We joined forces, so here's what I think..."
In a quiet, conspiratorial tone, the plan hatched itself.
Several minutes later all of our cars met around the corner from Kris and Ginny's. Overstuffed bodies releasing groans of pain disembarked. Then, like the one team we suddenly felt like we were, we wove our arms around each others’ waists until we were one solid wall of women.
Different colors, different heights, different sizes, but we were one solid wall of women off to display our solidarity, to declare each one of us winners to the meanies down the street.
It did not take us long to figure out that six interwoven women were a tad wider than a sidewalk, horizontally, mind you. We maneuvered until we fit vertically. We must have looked rather silly like that, clumsily walking sideways down the block: the Dicey Dykettes.
Once in the driveway of the old Victorian, we whooped and hollered until Kris and Ginny came out of the house.
"Ah, do I sense defiance?” Ginny challenged.
"Weall won this one,” several of us yelled.
"We tied,” a couple others declared.
"That's an extra two hundred points for each,” said Claudia.
"And your tickets, ladies. Do you have your tickets to prove this remarkable feat?” Ginny asked.
Three women stuck their hands into their pockets, retrieving the receipts that were then triumphantly waved in the air.
"Well, let's see what we have here,” Ginny said as she began studying each receipt. “Did I tell you girls that I went to school with Molly?"
Kris made some kind of snort noise, like she had consumed a Mad Cow too quickly, or maybe it was a maniacal laugh, as she already knew what was to befall us. I wanted to kick her, becauseI knew thatshe knew thatsomething had gone very wrong, that this mighty wall of women was about to crumble.
"Yes, I did go to school with her,” Ginny continued. “We've been friends since, oh, about first grade. Lovely woman. She'd do anything for me ... including watching you guys ... and time-stamping each of your receipts."
I could have sworn I saw Ginny duck at that point. I could have sworn I saw Kris stick her fingers in her ears. Both of them took precautions as the wall of women started wailing.
When the dust had settled and all objects within a three-block radius had stopped reverberating, Susan and Maggie were declared the winners. Claudia and I came in second—the ones who had helped them, mind you. Laura and Holly came in third—last in line because Holly had taken the time to offer help to Alison.Shit!
Each couple received the dreaded envelope containing the next clue. We were told that completion would net fifty points. As we headed back towards our cars—single file, this time—
Holly stayed back, apparently to tell Kris and Ginny about Lisa and Alison.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 4
I think I was more sick of the damn car than I was of the game. My knees ached from the perpetual bucket seat position, and frankly, after that mother-of-all-burgers, I think the width of a bench seat would have served me much better.
"Okay, here we go again,” said Claudia, obviously feeling similar to me, judging by her stretch and groan.
"Half the points, half as hard, right?” I asked, hoping.
"Ah, I think you should keep in mind who we're dealing with. They're taking too much joy in this."
As I ripped open the envelope, I again made my vow, “Wewill get them for this."
"Shit, Laura's taking off already. She cannot be that quick!” Claudia remarked, watching the blue sedan pull a u-turn.
"She has to go back to the house and get Holly, yet. Gees, cool your jets!"
"Ah, spoke too soon. There go Maggie and Susan!"
"Read, then. Read!"
I held the sheet of paper in what was now a ritual. The action provided both fear and anticipation.
It'sfair ly safe to assume you're all sick of the cow.
So from here, let's all have a go at something high-brow.
We'll stick with the French and have you remember the Louvre For there is one in our crowd who has something to prove.
In the town hub they surely have all gathered by now.
At three, they give the brush-off: you better go—and how!
From the entrance to the exit, it's what we behoove.
Three business cards most certainly will make us approve.
"Okay, what do you think? ‘Fair’ is italicized. Louvre is a museum. Mona Lisa lives there. Oo, and so does the armless one, Venus de Milo!"
"Brush-off? No, maybe just brush."
"Town hub ... um ... City Square?"
"Yeah, City Square! Middle of downtown. Damn, there's a place there ... Holly's stuff ... the opening we went to—remember?"
In perfect unison, we declared, “Art Fair City Square! Woohoo!"
Tires squealed right a long with us as we made our way downtown. For perhaps the very first time, we would not be completely beaten to the punch.
We parked in the ramp and boarded the elevator for the trip down to the first floor. As the doors closed, we spied Laura and Holly pulling in and parking. They were definitely in a fire ass hurry.
Maybe what Maggie had said about it being unfair to give clues to a detective carried some weight. There were good at this. Too good at this.
I quickly planted a kiss of Claudia's cheek before the loudding marked our arrival on the first floor. We stepped out into the atrium, with its tall trees reaching skyward. The sun felt good on my skin, the glass letting rays come through full force. The trickle of water from the nearby fountain fostered the illusion of being hurled against the big bosom of Mother Nature.
Claudia looked around and quickly got her bearings. “It's an art show!"
"Damn, we're good!"
"So we just need three business cards, then—right? ‘Entrance to exit,’ though. What does that mean?"
"I think it just means to go the circuit, go through the whole thing."
"There has to be a trick to this, though,” she said. “That just seems too easy. Like we could be out of here in five minutes tops!"
"Well, then, let's shoot for four minutes. On your mark, get set—"
Ding!
The elevator doors opened behind us, but it was more like a dam bursting, as Holly's energy and not-stop chatter gushed out with her. With it all came the sensation that we were being swept under and downstream.
"Oh God, you guys, isn't this just so sweet of them to make this a clue? Imagine that! I gave up showing my stuff here so I could go to the club meeting. I had my sister sit with my work. Oh, this is so sweet! My stuff. My sister. My friends. Oh my God, look at that oil! Oh my God, look at that one! It's beautiful."
She threaded her arm around me and then pulled Claudia into the knot. In one quick motion, we were swept into the torrent of her passion for the moment.
"Have you seen my latest painting? Have you ever met my sister? Let's go see—"
I helplessly turned my head around to look at Laura. She stood there, arms akimbo, just shaking her head from side to side. “Oh yes,” she said. “Wasn't itjust so sweet of them to make this a clue? Kid, candy store. Druggie, shooting gallery. Whore, whorehouse.” She shook her head again, looking rather pained. “I'll never get her out of here!"
The distance between Laura and us expanded rapidly, but she didn't make a move. “You guys should just run. Grab your frickin’ cards and just run!” She was yelling now, and her words barely reached us as the crowd engulfed us.
A few feet in front of us sat the spitting image of Holly. For one who loved to paint, this woman must have been like an animated self-portrait. Her blond, messy hair fell in jagged waves just below her shoulders—just like Holly's. Her smile radiated more than just pleasantry—just like Holly's. Her dark jeans tightly hugged a sleek body that stood three inches taller on thick-soled shoes—just like Holly's. When she saw Holly, the gesticulations and verbiage spattered and spewed and sputtered—just
like you-know-you. In a way, it was surreal. These mirror images should have given commonness to everything so unique to Holly, and yet, it seemed almost to do the opposite. It was as if a light shone down upon them and only them, making them stand out in a way that seemed somehow apropos.
"Kate, Claudia, this is my little sister, Noelle,” she said, hauling us in closer. “Sis, did you sell any?"
"Two of them!” she excitedly declared. “That red swirly one, oh, and the flowery one I liked so much. Oh yeah and one woman said she'd probably be back for the lighthouse."
"Oh my God,” Holly interjected. “I wonder—"
I leaned into Claudia to whisper, “Try to slowly inch away. We've got to get free. Whoever makes it out has to get the cards."
She nodded about the same time Holly scooped us up and began pulling us through the current again, docking at each artist's little island. To this day, I do not think I have ever heard the word
“beautiful” used so many times in one mere breath. With the Holly-line still mooring us, we met artist after artist. We saw paintings, sculptures, and tapestries. We smelled turpentine, popcorn, and the nauseating stench of burgers emanating from the restaurant at the end of the corridor.
And then we saw Laura. She eased up behind us and carefully slid three business cards into my back pocket. “Three cards for you. Three cards for us. I'm sorry my little woman has kidnapped you. I will save you, though—and myself. I promise. It's the least I can do."
We laughed and thanked her as we again felt the tugboat moving us further downstream.
"I have a plan,” Laura said, ducking down behind Holly and squat-walking with us. “Just go with her, and when you see me again, you'll know what to do.” She crouched even lower, turned quickly, and disappeared into the crowd.
We nodded our agreement to no one but each other and continued along—as if we had a choice—with the tug.
Perhaps twenty enlightening but long minutes later, we finally saw Laura again. She was standing next to a man who was drawing portraits for visitors. A long line of anxious people stretched out before him.
Laura pointed at Holly and then pretended to slap herself upside the head. “There you are!” she said. “I have been looking all over for you."
"Oh, honey,” Holly oozed, “I am so glad we got to come here. I just love these things! Come over here. There's this beautiful—"
"No, Holly. I need you for something,” she said, pulling Holly in and motioning for us to break free.
We did so quickly but ensured a good vantage point.
"See, Hol, I've commissioned this fine young man here to do a portrait of you. I'd really like one, and it'll help this young man be as good an artist as you one day.” She winked at the poor young man who was collecting money for the portrait he just finished.
"No, Laura. The line's too long. We'll be here all day. I'd rather go—"
"Oh, but, Hol, I've paid the man a hefty price to take you next. Just think of it! You, with all your talent, demonstrating how posing isreally done. The crowd will love it. It will bebeautiful!" she coaxed.
"We'll, if you're sure that—"
"Oh, I'm sure, Holly. Just stand right here,” she instructed. “Make like a mannequin. I just love mannequins. Mannequins are beautiful."
Holly took the stance—maybe what Venus de Milo looked liked before she lost her arms. Laura helped her pose until she was just so. She glanced at us, and for the first time since we had entered City Square, it was obvious that Laura was having fun. No longer was it a chore to break Holly free from a spell. The goal now was to cast one—on us, on the crowd, and eventually upon Holly when she had the mind to fathom it.
Holly stood there completely motionless. I was not sure I had ever seen her motionless. Then Laura held up a hand to us and mouthed, “On the count of five!"
We counted to ourselves, and the instant the five announced itself within our skulls, Laura lowered herself and aimed at Holly's torso. Swiftly, she rammed and scooped Holly up and over her shoulder. Suddenly the tugboat was beached and being towed by Laura's strong arms.
“Follow me, guys!” she yelled, and we fell in behind them.
Once we reached the elevator, the people around us didn't react with the humor that the witnessing crowd had. Rather, Holly's flailing arms and legs on either side of Laura and the repeated cry of “Let me go!” seemed to have put the word “abduction” into their minds.
"Granton PD,” Laura tried to assure them. “I'd show you my badge, but my arms are rather full at the moment.” She turned her head towards us and implored, “Can you guys help me, please?"
We both moved through the crowd, cleared the area in front of the elevator, and hit the up button.
When the doors opened, the four of us entered, and I hit the three. As we waited for the doors to close, the crowd inched closer, each person possessing that looking-at-the-scene-of-an-accident glaze in their eyes.
"Public drunkenness,” Laura said dismissively. “No big deal. She's a fine upstanding citizen, really. She just needs to sleep it off."
With that, the elevator doors closed, and we all burst out laughing. Everyone except for Holly that is. She was now beating Laura's back with a vengeance.
As we neared the cars, Laura said, “You guys just take off. Get your butts back there with those cards. It's only fair that you beat us, as the little woman kind of ruined your plan. We'll be there as soon as we can."
"You sure?” Claudia asked. “Can you get her in the car okay?"
"We can help if you need it,” I offered.
Holly heard that, and now the threats we aimed at us as well.
"Just go,” she said. “Everything is just fine. I swear."
We got into our car but felt a strong reluctance to leave them both like that. We stalled a bit, and eventually we saw Laura put Holly down, placing her upright next to the car. Laura planted several kisses on her, and once we knew that they were both laughing, we sped off to Kris and Ginny's.
Not only did Maggie and Susan beat us, but Alison and Lisa were also in receipt of the next envelope and heading back to their car.
We approached the driveway, and I handed the three business cards to Kris.
"I see you two survived,” she said. “Good job.” She looked at her watch and jotted down the time on her clipboard.
"Any sign of Laura and Holly, or should we just cross them off the list?” Ginny asked, half laughing.
"Oh, they'll be here soon,” Claudia assured. “I think so anyway."
"Genevieve Audrey Bleeker, you are one mean chick!” I yelled at her, trying to squelch laughter.
“You know exactly what kind of mess you just caused. You are so cold and calculating! I never knew it. And Kris, I know you are not innocent either!"
Both feigned utter indignation.
"If I wasn't so happy that the best clue-solvers were finally put in their place, well, I just might be mad."
"Give it time, Kate. Give it time. There's probably one just for you, too,” Ginny bantered.
I stuck my tongue out at her, grabbed the next envelope from Kris—which for some as yet unknown reason had bandanas tied around it—and headed toward the car.
"This one's worth two hundred points,” Kris yelled after us. “Good luck!"
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 5
"What do you think the bandanas are for?” I asked, untying them to discover that there were two.
"Beats me."
"Maybe they're going to turn us into biker chicks or something.” I laughed at the absurdity of that, but at the same time, I knew that it was safer to assume nothing.
"I don't want to be a biker chick, Kate!” Claudia said, turning up the drama. “Promise me you won't let them."
"Oh, shush. Let's just find out and get it over with. It's worth two hundred points."
"Oh great, four times harder than the last one,” Claudia noted.
Au revoirto the French; now we're back to the myt
hs that are Greek.
Echo, Zeus’ nymph, was caught by his wife, made unable to speak.
Oedipus gouged out his own eyes, blind like he was to his fate.
These two are not akin to Holly, Maggie, Alison, or Kate.
Alas, we must also return to the big park owned by State.
At the start take bandanas so that sight and speech are ceased.
Read the map in the case till you know the way to the gully—east.
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