CHAPTER TWO (5) Mitzi's dream continued...

After all, he was part of an organization now, and his job had to be done.

All Mitzi was given on Katz was a minilla folder with a brief history and his recent whereabouts. Katz was originally inducted into NORML in ’74 and worked his way up to the title of Officer, apparently in charge of District 11. The memo said, explicitly, that Katz “was known to be a force to be reckoned with in his day”, but had recently diverged from NORML’s game plan. All the other Officers back at the base claimed that he “really was something,” but that he had tragically fallen off; he had become mad. Mitzi’s mission was thus created, and the aim was to get Katz in one piece – and if in one piece, perhaps even alive.

And so he was informed of exact proceedings regarding the mission early yesterday morning. Procedurally, he had to be checked by a physician, which, Mitzi mused, was an odd experience. An odd experience, indeed. But it wasn’t just the physician, it was the entire event that made him squirm in his seat on remembering it. The two women, dressed completely in black, who welcomed him into the office had been watching TV, and one, who was many years older than the other, stared at him with almost sympathetic eyes from time to time, probably during commercials. Oh quite an odd feeling it gave him! He could remember rather vividly her cold stare that stuck to him and penetrated his flesh, her gaunt eyes embedded in an emaciated face; her cheekbones protruding from her skull casting shadows onto the crevices and wrinkles in her skin. The horror!

But they went on watching television. The younger one was a tad more attractive, but it must have been the flashing light thrown from the television that gave her that insensitive look, as well. But dim rooms with fluorescent light never did a woman any good. He blamed it on the light.

After about fifteen minutes, the older more grotesque of the two raised herself from her eternal seat and ushered him into the back room. For a doctor’s office, the room seemed steril but grimy: all the nooks were filled with grunge. Sometimes mops couldn’t reach such crannies. He blamed it on the mops, but reckoned that the mops simply needed to be thrown out and new mops purchased to replace them. Yes, it must have been the mops.

The physician walked in almost immediately and starkly contrasted the receptionists from the front room. He was carrying his token clipboard and a stethoscope draped carelessly round his neck onto a standard doctor’s coat. The rest of the visit had gone pretty much as Mitzi expected, however, his impression of the two women was still with him as he exited the car. He had be warned that there were two accomplices to greet him at his destination, District 11, whom had been waiting for his arrival.