Elizabeth Basque - Medium Mysteries 01 - Echo Park - Plot & Excerpts
“Pauline, the clickah’s dead again,” Mack complained. “It’s my day off,” I snapped at the Fifties man. Ghost of a man. I made a mental note to put new batteries in the TV remote for him. “Give me a break, Mack. Coffee first. Conversation later.” I listened for the mockingbird that visited me often, but he was nowhere nearby. I could have listened to that mockingbird song all morning long. This old dead fart from the East Coast, not so much. “A break? A break from what?” Mack demanded. “From the non-stop traffic down on Los Feliz Boulevard? No wondah the buhd’s abandoned you. He’s probably smaht enough to fly away.” Mack still spoke with the Boston non-rhotic accent that discourages vocalizing the letter “R” unless it occurs at the beginning of a word; his dialect was further steeped in the Jack Kennedy Cape Cod tradition, which flaunted that clipped, distinctive twang of the nasal short-a.
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