Traffic in Los Angeles can range from bearable to hellish. Thankfully, most people are at work at this time, and so traffic on the 405 is only headache-inspiring. The incipient rain only seems to lessen peoples ability to drive for some odd reason. Nevertheless, all of you hop into your vehicle and drive to the Pickman’s home in Bel-Air.
Bel-Air is for all intents and purposes, the home of the wealthy. Beautiful homes that have breathtaking views are the norm here. A winding road takes you to the top of Bel-Air, where in fact the most expensive homes are. These are not mansions, by any stretch. But each of these homes can easily go for a million to two million. It is a private community, and people who drive by you on the small streets seem to glare at you as if you don’t belong.
One by one, you pull up to the Pickman home. Professors could never afford such a place – but Alan always was good with his investments. He and Julia lived a comfortable lifestyle, and never had need for money. Being a genius at math often leads to playing the stock market, apparently. The home itself is a two story affair, with simple but nice landscaping, and a large backyard that overlooks Los Angeles. Those who have visited the Pickman’s here usually remark first about the view, and second about the view of the smog. Alan always joked he’d rather have a view of sky-rubbish (as he called it) than no view at all.
There are two cars in the driveway already – Julia’s and her friend, Miles. There is ample room on the street however, and you park your car with no problem. As you begin to get out, you see a light mist begin to fall. Precursor to an eventual storm, no doubt. It is getting dark – very dark, despite the early hour. How long it will take you to sort through Alan’s things, you have no idea. Hours? Days? You’re about to find out.
Julia greets each of you in the door, with a cup of hot cocoa as is her custom on days like this. Even though she buried her husband today, she still tries to be a congenial host. You can see the strain in her, however. There are many more tears ahead of her.
The inside of the Pickman’s home is filled with the detritus of a dozen years living at the same address. It could certainly be described as cluttered; Julia would describe it as ordered chaos. The latest model flat screen TV sits in the living room. Alan always had the latest gadgets and toys. His DVD collection was only dwarfed by his library.
Julia leads you into the kitchen, where a rather rumpled Miles sits, enjoying his own cocoa. The kitchen is all Julia – plants, flowers, and all manner of cooking utensils. A cooks paradise, as she had often described it. The parties that they had held here were rare, but Julia always made food worthy of any caterer.
Miles stands and greets each of you with another firm handshake. Though it is slightly cold out, a thin sheen of sweat seems to always be on his brow. It must be difficult to walk with that much extra bulk. The size of his stomach definitely classifies him as obese.
As soon as you are gathered (and enjoying whatever beverage) Julia says, “I want to thank each of you for coming today. I don’t know what I would do without friends like you. Have all of you met?”
Go ahead and introduce yourself to everyone, and mention what you do for a living. After that, feel free to ask questions of Julia, Miles or each other.
