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    Interrogating Your Ancestors
    Interrogating Your Ancestors
    Interrogating Your Ancestors
    Ebook51 pages43 minutes

    Interrogating Your Ancestors

    By Adam D. Rice

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Is your family keeping secrets?

    Well, you're among friends. Join private eye, Skip Quick, as he untangles a rat's nest of family drama. (Who's Rodney? Why was he tired all the time?)

    You might just learn a thing or two about poking around your own family tree.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPitmix Press
    Release dateMar 5, 2022
    ISBN9798201299125
    Interrogating Your Ancestors
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      Book preview

      Interrogating Your Ancestors - Adam D. Rice

      Interrogating Your Ancestors

      INTERROGATING YOUR ANCESTORS

      ADAM D. RICE

      PITMIX PRESS

      CONTENTS

      Introduction

      The Mystery

      Finding A Rat

      Smells Like Rain

      Downpour

      Deluge

      Afterword

      Acknowledgments

      About the Author

      Copyright © 2024 Adam D. Rice

      Second Edition

      All rights reserved.

      Any similarities to persons, living or dead, are a coincidence.

      While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

      To Grandma Bessie.

      INTRODUCTION

      So, there I was, sittin’ in the office, chowin’ down on a heel o’ rye bread so stale, it knocked a crown loose. My hands were as sticky as diner syrup. And the phone started ringin’. That was in the old office back on Jericho Lane. It was hot—blistering. The fan had conked out again. There was no resurrectin’ it that time.

      The phone kept right on ringin’. I had four ounces o’ ham and cheese in one hand and what was left o’ the rest, slathered on the other.

      Whoever it was, they were persistent. That phone must’ve rung for thirty minutes while I finished my sandwich and polished off a bag of gumdrops I found in a drawer.

      Eventually, I wiped my hands on a stack of papers and answered it.

      I expected somethin’ like: Hey, Skippy, so what yah got for me? Anythin’ new from the courthouse? Doris? You found her yet? It’s been two years, Skip, and I ain’t payin’ any more expenses until you show me some documentation!

      But there was nobody there. The line went dead the second I lifted the receiver. Kids. Probably got a few coins in their pocket—allowance, they’re callin’ it. Parents so flush, they can afford to give Junior some nickels to bug a private eye.

      It’s a lonely business, bein’ a private dick. You don’t make many friends. Good thing I’ve got that ugly mug who watches my back when I’m shavin’. He’s never been bad to me.

      Hey, let’s play a game. Let’s say, ‘stead o’ gettin’ that phone call, you stepped into my office that hot afternoon. I’d tell yah where you could hang your hat, and you’d take a load off. We’d talk about the heat for a bit, and you’d tell me your problem.

      I wouldn’t be listenin’. I’d be thinkin’ ‘bout dinner. Maybe Italian. Or that little Ethiopian place across town. You’d start tearin’ up, and I’d offer you some dirty old handkerchief I had lyin’ around. You’d push it away. Works every time. Last thing I need is more laundry.

      Through some sniffin’, you’d blurt out, It’s… my family.

      I’d pour a drink—somethin’ to take the edge off human contact. Yeah, yeah, I’d growl. We all got problems, and they’ve all got our blood type. What else is new?

      You’d look at me with those puffy eyes—you know the ones. Like you’ve been cryin’ for three days straight or chopping onions. They’re not cooperating, you moan. "I’m just trying to put together a little book about the family. It’s just… when they’re gone, they’re gone. None of us know a thing about where we came from—who we are!"

      Then, your eyes’d break the levee. I ain’t been to Niagara, but I know a flash flood when I see one.

      That’s when I’d lean back and throw a leg up on the desk. Family, huh? I’d pick a bit o’ ham out of my teeth. "You’re one o’ them genealogists, aren’t yah? Tryin’ to find

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