by Lynn, JB
I was a different person then, using a kindergartner’s “Stop, Drop, and Roll” as my only means of defense. I hadn’t yet survived multiple attempts on my life. I didn’t understand my own strength and resourcefulness. I hadn’t ever saved the life of someone I loved. I didn’t know what a badass bitch I could be when the situation called for it.
But I did now.
I rolled under that bed, not to hide, but because I had a plan.
Pulling on the glove Armani had given me, I grabbed the base of the IV stand and swung the pole as hard as I could at the shins of the gunman, causing him to stumble as he shot at Gino.
Gino went crashing backward.
I hit the gunman again, trying to knock him off his feet, but this time, he caught the pole.
A tug-of-war ensued over it. It was a battle I knew I’d lose. Still, I held on to the pole with one hand, allowing him to drag me out from under the bed, while I grabbed a shard of window glass with my gloved hand, arming myself.
As soon as he was within striking distance, I raised my arm. Letting go of the pole, I used both hands to drive the glass through his shoe and into his foot.
He howled in pain, hopping on his other foot.
I grabbed at the ankle of his uninjured foot and yanked it toward me, causing him to fall.
His head made a hollow thunk, like when you tap a watermelon, as he hit the floor. He didn’t move after that.
I stumbled to my feet and lurched over to Gino. He was still but breathing. I didn’t see any signs of a gunshot wound and there was no blood seeping out from under him.
“Don’t you die on me, Gino,” I begged, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.
He groaned and his eyes fluttered open.
20
There are days when I’m really grateful for U.S. Marshal Laurence Griswald.
This was one of those days.
First, he’d seen the window-washer-gunman’s reflection in a window across from the hospital, so he’d gotten Dad out of the room and pulled the fire alarm. Then, he’d helped explain and smooth things over with the cops investigating the shooting. And now, he was taking the lead in explaining what happened to my family.
We were all gathered in the living room while Miss Lassalan kept Katie and Alicia in their classroom with Detective Brian Griswald standing guard.
Griswald’s matter-of-fact, professional recap of the events helped to keep the anxiety and interruptions of the others to a minimum. For that, I was extraordinarily grateful. I didn’t have the reserves to be interrogated or soothe anyone. I was too busy soaking up the love of the animals. I sat on the floor, flanked by DeeDee and Matilda. Piss was kneading my lap. Benny was cupped in my palm and God was on my shoulder, hidden beneath my hair.
Aunt Susan hung on every word her husband said. Loretta, shaking her head, clung to Templeton. Herschel listened stoically with an arm wrapped around Leslie. Marlene perched on the lap of Doc, and I could tell she felt guilty about the tension in Dad’s room earlier. And Armani beamed smugly when Griswald mentioned how lucky it was that I’d had the glove.
As soon as Griswald finished, I got to my feet and walked out, leaving him to deal with the Q&A session I knew was inevitable. The animals followed me outside.
“Company’s coming!” Mike, the crow, squawked, as he landed a few feet in front of me.
“Where?” I asked.
“Driveway,” he cawed, flapping his wings and taking off just before a silver Beemer rolled up.
I glared at Mia as she rolled down her window. “This isn’t a good time.”
“Have you found him yet?” she replied as though she hadn’t heard me.
I shook my head.
“I’m running out of time, Maggie,” she reminded me. “And that means your dad is running out of time, too.”
She made a quick three-point-turn in the driveway, almost running over poor Matilda, who oinked in terror, and gunned the motor as she drove away.
“With friends like her…” God muttered.
“Yeah,” I said tiredly, “I know.” I walked over to the barn, slowly. I was stiff and sore from the hospital ordeal.
“Armani gave you the glove?” Brian Griswald asked as I drew near, trailed by a Doberman, a one-eyed cat, and a pig.
I nodded.
He shook his head, respect and disbelief warring in his eyes. I knew that feeling well when it came to my psychic friend.
“I’m glad she was wrong about you dying,” he said finally.
I gave him a one-shouldered shrug. “So far.”
Entering the barn, I scratched the spot between Irma’s eyes and then went and peered into the classroom. Miss Lassalan noticed me immediately and waved for me to enter.
“Aunt Maggie!” Katie jumped out of her seat and raced toward me.
I knelt down and hugged her tightly when she threw herself at me. “Hi, baby girl,” I whispered.
“We’re learning about oz-mostest,” she told me excitedly.
“Osmosis,” Miss Lassalan corrected gently.
“Want to see how it works?” Katie asked.
“I do,” I told her. “But first, I want to say hello to Alicia, too.”
“Okay,” Katie happily agreed. “We’ll finish setting up the speriment.”
“Ex-periment,” Miss Lassalan told her as Katie ran to her side.
Without standing, I offered Alicia a reassuring smile. The little girl was standing a few feet away, nervously twisting her hands. I didn’t know if I should open my arms to invite her for a hug or if that would be too much pressure on her. “Hi, Alicia,” I said softly, not wanting to spook her.
She shuffled up to me slowly.
“Hello! Hello! Hello!” Benny squeaked from my hand.
Alicia’s eyes brightened at the sound, so I held up the little mouse for her to see. “You remember my friend, Benny, don’t you?”
She grinned and hurried toward me. “Can I pet him?”
“Of course, but gently,” I told her.
After she was done stroking the mouse, she held up her arms, indicating she wanted a hug.
Tears filled my eyes as I scooped her up.
When Katie announced, “We’re ready!” I carried Alicia over to the table at the front of the classroom.
That’s where Marlene found us, watching as eggs absorbed food dyes.
“Maggie,” my sister called from the doorway. “Do you have a sec?”
Leaving the kids, and Benny, enthralled with their teacher’s science experiment, and DeeDee hoping she’d get to eat the eggs, I stepped back out into the barn.
“I was a jerk,” Marlene blurted out. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Forget about it,” I interrupted. “We’re all under stress.” I pulled her in for a tight hug.
For a second, all felt right in the world.
Then, Aunt Susan showed up. “Margaret. I need to speak to you now.”
“Uh oh,” Marlene whispered. “Now you’re in trouble.” She ducked into the classroom, leaving me to face my obviously irate aunt.
I stepped over to Irma’s stall and began to stroke the donkey between her eyes as Aunt Susan unloaded her grievances.
“What were you thinking, Margaret?”
“There wasn’t much time to think. I was just trying to stay alive.”
“Not about that.” She waved her hand dismissively, like the fact I’d been involved in two incidents involving gunfire in the past two days was totally inconsequential. “What were you thinking about those two…entertainers?”
I looked to Irma to see if she could offer any guidance, but her eyes were closed. She was one blissed out donkey. I’ll admit, I was jealous. “Entertainers?”
“The singers!” Susan practically spat.
“Oh, Soulful and Sinful!” I remembered. “Armani seems to think they’re talented artists.”
“Artists?” Susan practically shrieked. “I think we have different definitions of art.”
“A lot of people have diff
erent opinions about art,” I pointed out. “Besides, Loretta seems happy with them.”
“Of course, Loretta’s happy with them,” Susan snapped. “She loves anything that has to do with debauchery and dollar signs!”
“Debauchery and dollar signs,” God mused. “Kind of a catchy name.”
Susan glared at the squeaking lizard. She couldn’t understand him, but she seemed insulted by his very presence.
“Are they worse than the dancers were?” I asked.
“Define worse,” Susan countered.
“Are they causing fender benders in the parking lot?”
“How should I know?” she sputtered.
I shrugged. “You seem to make it your business to know everything about Loretta’s.”
Susan turned her death glare on me.
I met her gaze steadily. I was not in the mood. I’d kicked a gunman’s ass with nothing more than improvised weapons. I was not going to be cowed by Susan’s outrage over her petty, pious propriety.
She blinked first.
Then, she looked away. “I thought you’d be on my side,” she murmured before hurrying back toward the house.
Teenage me would have been thrilled with my victory, but I didn’t feel that way. I just felt guilty.
Sighing, I stopped petting the donkey and rubbed my own forehead, trying to rid myself of some of the tension I felt.
“You weren’t wrong,” God said.
“Then, why do I feel so awful?”
“You’re taking her place,” God said. “She senses it. You know it. For decades, she’s been the leader of the family. Now, you’re the one everyone counts on.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want it. I don’t want that kind of responsibility.”
“I don’t think you have a choice, sugar,” Piss purred, winding her way between my legs. “It’s the natural order of things.”
“I won’t do it,” I vowed.
God chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, fighting the urge to knock him off my shoulder.
“Some people dodge their responsibilities, leaving others to pick up the slack. Others just carry the load. Which do you think you are?”
“The former?” I suggested hopefully.
Irma startled me by braying with laughter. “You, Maggie Lee, are a pack mule.”
“A pack mule,” God agreed.
Basically, they were telling me that I’m an ass.
21
There’s something about being involved with gunfire that exhausts me. With the animals sharing my bed, I slept the sleep of the dead.
Armani woke me the next morning by knocking on my door. “You awake?” she asked as she pushed it open and stuck her head inside.
“I wasn’t,” I muttered sleepily.
“Your old friend is here. Waiting in the kitchen.” She stepped back out and closed the door.
Suddenly wide awake at the idea of Mia in the kitchen, I startled DeeDee by scrambling over her to get out of bed. “What is she doing?”
“Who? Who? Who?” Benny asked from his box.
“Great,” God groused, hanging out on his piece of driftwood, “now it sounds like we’ve got an owl in here.”
“Mia,” I told the mouse. “Why is Mia in the kitchen?”
“Hungry!” DeeDee barked.
I wasn’t sure if she was offering that as a suggestion as to why someone would go to the kitchen or just a complaint about her own state.
In a rush to keep Mia from revealing my dad’s lack of an alibi, I threw on clothes haphazardly.
“Your socks don’t match,” Piss observed, licking her paw.
I didn’t care. I stumbled out of the room, almost getting knocked over by the dog and pig as they made their mad dash for the kitchen.
“You forgot me!” God called out, obviously insulted.
Groaning, knowing he wouldn’t soon forget the unintentional slight, I turned back and almost tripped when I found Piss in my path. Dancing around her, I grabbed the lizard and went looking for Mia, thankful that Benny didn’t voice a desire to come along.
I hurried into the kitchen, determined to silence Mia. But she wasn’t there. Instead, another familiar face sat at the table with Armani and Templeton.
“Zeke!” I gasped in surprise.
“Maggie!” He grinned and made a show of jumping out of his seat to give me a hug. “I need your help,” he whispered in my ear as we embraced.
“Sensitive skin!” God shrieked.
I’d forgotten he was in my bra and almost crushed him against Zeke’s chest.
Zeke jumped away at the squeaking sound and then laughed, realizing it was the lizard.
“Coffee, Maggie?” Templeton asked, getting to his feet.
“Please,” I replied.
“Cream, please?” Piss meowed, rubbing against Zeke’s shins.
“Hungry!” DeeDee barked.
“Starving!” Matilda oinked.
Zeke got wide-eyed listening to the animals’ cacophony.
“Feeding time at the zoo,” Templeton joked.
As the pack mule, I got my fuel first, then, he happily fed all the others while I sat at the table with Zeke and Armani.
“I heard about your dad,” Zeke began sympathetically.
“And I told him about you dying,” Armani interjected.
Zeke winced. I shrugged.
“And I told him about Alicia,” Armani answered, oblivious to our discomfort. “And—”
“Wait,” Templeton interrupted. “Go back to the dying part.”
“Don’t—” I began, trying to wave him off.
“I have foreseen the death of Maggie,” Armani intoned solemnly.
Templeton audibly gulped.
“But that was a couple of days ago,” I pointed out. “And I’ve survived two shootings since.”
“Two?” Zeke sounded alarmed.
“I told you about the one at the cemetery,” Armani said, punching his arm.
“And then there was the one at the hospital,” Templeton explained.
“The hospital?” Zeke asked, his eyes darting quickly between Armani and Templeton before landing on me.
“They’re dangerous places,” I muttered bitterly. “You never know who you’ll run into or what can happen there.”
He looked away, well-aware I was referring to his theft of a human heart and not the window-washer-shooter.
“Blew!” Armani burst out.
“Yes,” I agreed. “It blew to get shot at.”
“No, the color blue,” Armani argued. “You turn blue when you die.”
I frowned, not liking that the details of my death were becoming clearer to her.
“So, she doesn’t have oxygen?” Zeke asked.
“Or she freezes to death,” Templeton suggested.
“Do you guys want to start a pool as to when and how I die?” I snapped, taking my coffee and stalking out of the house. It was starting to sound a little too real, and listening to them talk of my demise so casually was unsettling.
“They didn’t mean any harm,” God pointed out from my shoulder. “They’re just worried about you.”
“Yeah? Well, I have more important things to worry about than how I’m going to die.”
DeeDee bounded ahead of me. “I guard to today Katie want Alicia and don’t,” she barked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked impatiently.
She hung her head guiltily.
“DeeDee,” I warned.
“I guard to today Katie want Alicia and don’t,” the dog whined pitifully as though the gibberish would make more sense the second time.
“She’s telling you she doesn’t want to guard the girls today,” God translated quietly.
I didn’t know whether to thank him or be concerned he hadn’t said anything about the dog’s mangled communication style.
Before I could respond to either animal, Zeke said from behind me, “We need to talk.”
I nodded and, withou
t looking at him, began to walk in the direction of where my father had pitched his tent.
“Who’s trying to kill your dad?” he asked, falling into step beside me. He cradled a purring Piss in his arms.
I assumed from his question that Templeton had explained the previous day’s events. “I don’t know.”
“Do you think it’s Leo Klugman?”
“I doubt it,” I said.
“Then, why were you looking for him?”
I glanced at him sideways. “You don’t know?”
He didn’t answer.
“Because Mia wants me to find him. She’s married to him.”
“I know that,” Zeke said quietly. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re involved. Use your head, Maggie. Stay away from this thing. Don’t prove Armani right by getting yourself killed.”
“I can’t.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Why not?”
“I owe Mia a favor,” I admitted.
He made a growling sound.
“I don’t think he likes her,” Piss purred, kneading Zeke’s chest as though she could massage out his stress.
I nodded. Zeke and Mia had never gotten along particularly well. She’d judged him for his druggie parents, but he’d always said she was the user. In hindsight, I realized he’d probably been right, but as the adolescent with a dad in prison and a mom in the loony bin, I’d overlooked the flaws of anyone who acted like my friend.
Zeke frowned at me. “What kind of favor?”
“A big one.”
He rolled his eyes. “From when we were kids?”
I nodded. “I promised I owed her a favor and now she’s collecting.”
He shook his head. “Nobody keeps their childhood promises. Hell, not many keep their adult promises, either.”
I looked away, knowing he was right.
He put a hand on my shoulder so that I’d look at him again. “What is it you think you owe her?”
I bit my lower lip. “It’s complicated.”
“I can understand complicated.” He flashed a rueful smile. “Maybe I can help.”
