I’m Detective Sgt. Deviled Yeggs. I work homicide in the big city of Tracy. My partner is Jim Wednesday. Poached Yeggs, Junior Detective and my nephew, continues to assist us, but from home for the time being.
When we arrived at the squad room, Jim noticed that I was not talking. Then he noticed that Blaise, our youngest, was in our temporary holding cell. He was being good. He was sitting on the metal bench that is welded to the bars, reading a book. I think it was a high school Physics book. You know, the kind of book that anyone would read who has just finished first grade and is going into third grade.
Jim simply asked, “Do you want to tell me about it?”
My answer was “No.”
Jim snickered, “But you’re going to anyway.”
I sputtered, “I shouldn’t have to. When Trinity Naomi Tesla Yeggs, a.k.a. TNT Yeggs, a.k.a. Nitroglycerin Yeggs, a.k.a. my lovely wife, Glyce, short for Nitroglycerin…”
By this time, Jim was doubled over laughing. “Please, stop, Deviled, when you start with all of Glyce’s aliases, I know she had to have exploded again, but like a halfway professional testimony of evidence or a case file report, please explain why Blaise is in the lock-up. You know, what we tell all our witnesses, start at the beginning.”
I recited, “In the beginning, God …”
“Not that far back, please!”
“Okay, a fitting start for this story was when the lockdown started. How many decades ago did it start?”
“For us in Tracy, about one set of ten weeks, not years. And before you say it, it seems like it has been decades.”
“This has been escalating since the lockdown started, just with the youngest two. Easter has been too busy texting Jemima Lucado. Okay, for the present incarceration, Sophie did something to Blaise, yesterday. Blaise will not admit what caused him to use Sophie as his latest lab experiment subject, but both children are pretending that they have no idea what precipitated the latest incident. Sophie will not confess, but Blaise never does something this heinous without provocation.”
Jim interjected, “Come on, Deviled, if a witness started like that, you would be the first one to stop them and tell them that they need to stick to the facts that they can, themselves, attest to.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, no fun and games. We were awakened, that being Glyce and I, at about four in the morning. We heard a blood curdling scream from Sophie’s room. When we entered the room, Sophie was screaming. Her hair was matted and glued to her pillow. The glue had set, so as she stood up, she was wearing her pillow behind her head and her hair was spiked in every direction imaginable.”
Jim roared with laughter.
“Jim, if you are going to laugh that hard, I’m just going to have to take a break from the story.”
“No, go on, this is better than studying cold cases any day.”
“Of course, Sophie had no idea what had happened. She said that she had rolled over in her sleep and was awakened by the fact that her pillow was no longer under her head on the bed and it felt like someone was pulling her hair. Of course, it was just the pillow that was weighing down her hair, pulling it.”
“She had no idea what had happened. She thought a monster was trying to kill her.”
“Glyce went into the hallway where Easter stood, confused, having been awakened by the screaming. She then went to where Blaise was pretending to be asleep. And before you ask, he was pretending to sleep. When you have been a parent as long as we have been, you will know when your kid is faking it.”
Jim raised his hands in submission, still laughing.
“Glyce shook Blaise and demanded an explanation. Blaise said, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about. I have done nothing wrong. I have been asleep ever since you sent us to bed last night, and while we are on that subject, it is still dark. Is the pandemic over? Are you waking me so that I can get to school early? Oh, goody, school at last!’”
“That was when Glyce exploded the first time. I am surprised you didn’t hear it.”
“We run a fan for white noise. We have a monitor for the children, but the white noise drowns out the outside noises, like a Glyce explosion from the other side of town.” Jim explained with a grin.
“Come on, Jim, you know the ground shakes a hundred miles away when she explodes. But back to the story, Glyce needed no evidence. The escalation between the two since the beginning of the lockdown was all she needed to know that Blaise was at fault. That’s when Blaise demanded to be Mirandized. He asked for a lawyer, and he refused to answer any questions until his lawyer arrived. At this point, Glyce had her second explosion which consisted of four words, ‘Deviled, deal with this!’”
“At that point, my hands were full of pillow and hair. If we didn’t figure out what the glue was, we would have to cut Sophie’s lovely hair off. If I could just find a way to loosen the grip of the glue, or whatever it was, I might salvage some of the hair, you know, dissolve some of the gunk. Glyce and I swapped roles. I questioned the suspect, my specialty while she, the PhD tried soap and water that were mixed with Sophie’s tears.”
Jim laughed again, “Deviled, I love it how you and Glyce keep calling your daughter Sophie. Everyone in the big city of Tracy knows her as ‘Soapy.’”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Sophie is named for Sophie Germain, French scientist, mathematician, and philosopher. I doubt if Ms. Germain was ever called ‘Soapy.’ Getting back to the story, Easter stepped forward and volunteered to represent his client, Blaise. Blaise said that he would probably be better off representing himself, but Easter was probably the best he could do at that time of the morning.”
“While Easter conferred with his client, I remembered that I had smelled a strange mix of honey and vinegar while working on Sophie’s hair. I went to the kitchen and found the bottles. I used my fingerprint kit and determined that Blaise’s fingerprints were all over the bottles. As for the honey, there were fingerprints from all of us all over the bottle. But, we’d had a kitchen spill a day or two before, and Worcestershire Sauce was all over the vinegar bottle. After cleaning the bottle, there were no fingerprints, so having Blaise’s fingerprints on the bottle was quite incriminating.”
“And how can you ‘spill’ Worcestershire Sauce on a bottle of vinegar?”
“I told you. There has been a slow escalation of hostilities since the lockdown began. Must I say more? That crime was resolved at the time. Now, moving on, I confronted the suspect.”
“Blaise said, ‘I did nothing wrong. It was just a science experiment. I woke up in the middle of the night, and I had this great idea for a new shampoo and scalp conditioner. I was being helpful. But from the look on my lawyer’s face, I think that I have said too much.”
“Glyce is the PhD in the family. She found traces of raw egg, including a few shells, and Elmer’s glue in Sophie’s hair, along with the vinegar and honey. She calmly interrupted the interview, which had turned into the usual song and dance once the lawyer got involved. So, Glyce’s interruption was welcome at that point. She explained that Sophie’s hair had been cut off and Sophie probably would not leave the house after the lockdown is over until her hair could grow back. Sophie was demanding a wig and some nice hats in the meanwhile. Glyce was more involved in the punishment phase of the trial that was yet to take place. She demanded the maximum sentence on each count. I had to ask how many counts would be on the indictment. She said that as far as she was concerned, each strand of hair that had to be cut should be considered an individual count on the indictment. If we took the time for the counting of Sophie’s hair, Blaise should be in time out for the rest of his natural life. She wanted something worse. Torture was placed on the table, but she would not go as far as the dead penalty. All of this in the room with Easter and Blaise listening.”
“After Easter conferred with his client again, really Easter was begging him to come clean and throw himself on the mercy of the court. Blaise demanded a jury trial, with twelve of his peers on the jury. At this, Easter burst out laughing. He said, ‘How are we going to get twelve Brainiacs like you to sit on a jury? You’re one of a kind!’ Blaise glared at his attorney and said, ‘Some lawyer you are! You’re fired! And as for your, Mother. If you or Father touch me, I will go to the judge and register a complaint of police brutality.’ That’s when Glyce exploded the third time. She hates it when a college student disrespects her, but her own kid? That was too much.”
“And that is where we sit. Blaise hasn’t said a word since. Glyce is at home turning all the photographs of Blaise around so that she doesn’t have to be reminded of his existence. And if our Captain finds out that I double-dipped, working a shift while babysitting at the same time, I might get fired myself. Easter seemed to be genuinely hurt that he got fired from his lawyer gig. I don’t want to have that feeling myself. I figured we could spend our time today, as long as no cases arise, having Blaise booked. The jail doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits his size, but we can have him fingerprinted and have his mug shots taken. We can put him in interrogation and sweat him a bit. If for no other reason, we’ll call it a training exercise to keep our skills sharp.”
“But really, the bliss of this little escapade is that the two youngest will have been in separate buildings for an entire twelve-hour shift.”
What inspired this fictional story was a true story of a family gone mad, totally, truthfully mad. With three adults, three children, and a dog crammed in a small house for months, is it any wonder? When I arrived, the younger two grandchildren were constantly pushing, shoving, and fighting. They had been trapped in a small space together for too long. Oddly enough, the youngest was totally oblivious, as you can see from the photo above – smiling while his siblings are far from happy. He violated at least two or three family rules. In the process, he had irritated his sister. She retaliated. She refused to clean up the mess that she had made in her retaliation, but finally complied. Thus, the older grandson’s television watching was ruined, as he sat between the two combatants, notice the grim countenance. His sister is sulking. And his younger brother is smiling for the camera because he did “nothing wrong.” The photo was taken just before the next rule infraction, the next bit of not listening to their grandmother, and the next explosion occurred, this time from their grandfather, and the television was turned off and everyone went to extreme corners of the house, away from each other, for a time out, and even that didn’t work for long, because one of them did “nothing wrong,” which led to similar circumstances as described herein, within extended difficulties for talking back to his elders and of course, the total lack of being truthful. For some, this lockdown has lasted too long.
Elmer’s glue was mentioned in this story. I am not being compensated for the plug and I do not recommend using it as a scalp treatment under any circumstance.