Monkey Wrench

by Terri Thayer

  “Do you need to be up front? You’ve got customers,” she said.

  “That’s Lois and Sonya. They’re not buying anything. And I sent Barb V to join the party.”

  I pointed to the longhaired art teacher. I thought I’d seen her name on Vangie’s Twitter list. “That’s Sonya Salazar, the teacher. Didn’t you have her for art class?”

  “That’s Sonya Salazar?” Vangie stood and leaned out the little window for a better view. Sonya tossed her hair back, looking like a black waterfall. Her hair shone as if she’d hot oiled the locks.

  The screen on the computer changed and Vangie returned her attention to the UPS website.

  “Look here,” she said. “The books have made it to the local warehouse.” She scrolled down. “They’re on the truck. We sometimes get a second late afternoon delivery. They should be on that.”

  I pounded her back. “Thank you.”

  I had an answer. Not that Barb V would be happy with it.

  Barb V was making her way back to the office when I came out to tell her the good news. Her face was drawn and pinched.

  “Those two,” she said. “I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. I don’t have time for the likes of Lois Lane. Squabbling about somebody’s grandson.”

  “Squabbling? They just met …”

  I looked through the window. I could see how someone might think they were arguing. Lois was throwing her arms around and Sonya was standing very close to her.

  Barb V snapped me back to the present. “Dewey, quit stalling. Where’s my book?”

  “The books will be here later today. I will personally see that the books get out to all the stores by tomorrow.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  Barb V started to leave. She turned when she reached the door. “Do not mess this up, Dewey. Not everyone wanted QP back into the Crawl. You’re on thin ice.”

  My face reddened as if I’d been slapped. I looked back to see if Vangie had heard but she had her headphones on. I stood still, wondering who these other people were who didn’t want QP in the Crawl.

  I saw movement and went on to the store floor. Lois and Sonya had taken their conversation out to the sidewalk. I couldn’t imagine what they were still talking about. It didn’t seem like they had much in common. That was good, though. It meant Sonya might have appeal to quilters.

  A young man came in. I was shocked to see it was Ross, the kid from the GrandSon organization. He hesitated, taking a step back and then glancing over his shoulder before he approached.

  “Pearl sent me,” he said.

  Eight

  He started talking rapidly. “She said you said she could have the extra paint. From your bathroom? She wants me to fix up my room.”

  I flushed. “Where is Pearl?”

  He pointed and I could see Pearl’s Mini parked at the curb. I didn’t wait for him to say more.

  I raced out the door. “Pearl! What are you doing?”

  Sonya and Lois looked up as I yelled. I gave them a little wave to let them know I was okay, and modulated my tone.

  She rolled down the window on the passenger side. Ross had been driving.

  She smiled smugly. I leaned in.

  “What are you doing with Ross?” I had spoken to Pearl on Sunday morning, telling her that I would check Ross’s references and get back to her. “We agreed we’d wait until something else came along.”

  Pearl stuck her chin out. “I didn’t agree. You said you thought it was a bad idea. Well, I don’t. Ross has been with me since yesterday. We’ve been having a marvelous time. He loves to listen to my music. He’s already mowed the grass and cleaned out the koi pond.”

  I threw my head back and took in a deep breath. Pearl was so headstrong. I should have known this would happen.

  I bent down to Pearl’s level. She was smiling brightly, her eyes shining. She turned up the radio and started bopping her hands to “Glad All Over.” I knew the Dave Clark Five song was on her favorite British Invasion CD.

  She was happy, that was for sure. Did Ross account for all this excitement?

  A horn beeped. I looked up as Vangie’s mother’s car went around the corner. A truck turned in from the other direction. Vangie was gone before I’d had a chance to talk to her. And the tile guys were here. Great.

  I turned back to Pearl. “I don’t know if you should be letting this kid drive your car. What if he has an accident or something?”

  Pearl flipped her hand. “Don’t be such a worrywart, Dewey. Ross is a good kid. I spoke to his mother over the phone yesterday. We had a long chat. She’s in Sacramento and she’s very happy that he has somewhere nice to live.”

  There was a loud bang as the truck’s rear door was opened. Kevin’s guys began unloading tile and bags of grout. The bathroom floor had to take priority. I had to go back inside.

  I would have to let Pearl be for now. I straightened, feeling my knees complain. I pointed Kevin’s men to the back door. As I did, Lois waved goodbye and got into her car.

  Sonya seemed to be waiting for me to finish. I guess she wanted an answer about the classes.

  I touched Pearl’s door and turned to leave.

  Pearl called after me, “Don’t you worry. I’m a big help to him, too. He needs a little old lady. I’m going to pretend to be one.” Pearl cackled.

  My heart flipped. I grabbed her hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m going undercover. All I have to do is act feeble. That’ll be a stretch.” She cackled again.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Ross has been studying illegal sports clinics. For school.” She leaned over the edge of the window. “Did you know there are doctors around here who are giving out prescriptions without an exam? Pain pills, sleeping pills, whatever you want.”

  I had heard of these places, from Buster.

  “Ross says the abuse is nuts. I’m going to be the test case.”

  “What’s the name of this clinic, Pearl?”

  Ross was coming out of the store, carrying a paint can. He’d helped himself to the roller with the long handle.

  Pearl handed me a torn piece of paper. Ross had written the information on a pink sticky note. “This is where we’re headed, right after lunch. I have a two o’clock appointment.”

  Ross avoided me and walked the long way around to the trunk, around the front of the car. He pushed down the lid of the can before setting it down.

  “Thanks for the paint,” Ross said as he climbed behind the wheel.

  “How about lunch at Bill’s?” Pearl said. “I want a tuna on rye.”

  Ross glanced in his side mirror. I didn’t want to see her go off with him.

  I glared at the note in my hand. I knew where they would be. Ross pulled into traffic. Pearl waved gaily.

  Sonya stood next to me. “Your friend okay?”

  I didn’t want to get into this with Sonya. She’d thought the GrandSons was a good idea. For that matter, so had I.

  A city bus stopped at the corner and Ursula got off. I waited for her to catch up with me and Sonya before going inside. She was holding her right arm across her body, as if it hurt.

  “What’s the story, morning glory?” I said, surprised to hear my mother’s phrase come out of my mouth. But Ursula looked so down, I wanted to cheer her up.

  She shook her head sadly. “Sorry it took so long. The doctor saw a lot of people before me.”

  Ursula went to a huge hospital for outpatient care, seeing a different doctor each time. I couldn’t afford to pay her health insurance so she had to pay out of pocket for her expenses. She would be eligible for Medicare in a few years, but in the meantime, her health insurance was her responsibility. One of my goals was that QP could make enough profit to give good coverage to my employees. I didn’t see that happening any time soon.

  “I’d been hoping he’d recommend physical therapy but all he gave me was a prescription for really expensive muscle relaxants. I can’t afford them.”

  S
onya shook her head in commiseration. “I hear you. I have to pay for my health insurance and it’s ridiculous.”

  “I wish I could do more,” I said.

  Ursula smiled at me. “This is not your fault, Dewey. I’m the one who stayed with the guy who liked to wrench my arm behind my back.”

  She stopped, although I knew she could say a lot more about her crappy husband. I felt tears in my eyes, but there was nothing to say.

  Ursula wouldn’t let us wallow. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

  “I’ve got lots to do,” I said to Sonya, hoping she got the hint.

  She did. “I’m off. Let me know about the classes,” she said.

  ———

  I wanted to see where Ross was taking Pearl, but I couldn’t leave the store until it was nearly two. The clinic was only a few miles away, in the south end of downtown. A place like that could attract a seedy crowd.

  The neighborhood was residential with a few shops, mostly dollar stores and taco restaurants. The freeway loomed overhead, cutting off the sun, a complicated interchange where 87 came in. The houses needed paint, porches sagged.

  I found the address on Pearl’s note. A plain stucco plaza was set at right angles to a bodega decked out in fake flowers. A large sign at the driveway declared it to be the site of Jordan’s Sports Injuries Clinic.

  I waited for a dark-haired woman with three children piled on a stroller meant for one to cross before pulling in. The storefront clinic had a banner in the window that claimed in three-foot-high letters: We Guarantee You Will Feel Better.

  A homemade sign hung low said: These premises are under survaillance. The misspelling seemed to fit with the surroundings.

  I looked for video cameras on the roofline but didn’t see any. My guess was that their clients wouldn’t want to be taped.

  Vertical blinds clattered as I opened the door. I limped in to authenticate my need for treatment.

  I needn’t have bothered. No one noticed me come in. The small lobby, painted a hideous gold, was filled with people. All the chairs were taken and several people leaned against the wall.

  It was quite a cross section. A family of four with a puppy. An older Asian couple in competing striped shirts and flip-flops. A middle-aged woman, reading a Jennifer Weiner book with a bright pink cover.

  No one looked like a dope fiend.

  It was after two, but Pearl was still here. She looked up and waved me over. She was seated on a wooden armchair next to a white-haired woman with a walker.

  Ross never glanced my way. He was leaning into the open window. The young woman at the reception desk was enjoying his attention. Finally, she looked around him and greeted me perfunctorily.

  “Can I help you?” The name badge pinned over a very ample left breast read Ashleigh. Ross recognized me with a start.

  Ashleigh sighed and Ross’ gaze drifted to follow her rising and falling chest. “Are you new?” she asked. “Fill this out.” She picked up a clipboard with what seemed like a ream of paper attached. A pen dangled from a piece of neon-green fuzzy yarn.

  “I’m here to be with my grandmother,” I said.

  She let it drop on the counter and turned her attention back to Ross. They seemed to be discussing the latest episode of the Real World. I’d have thought he would be interviewing her for his paper. Maybe he was getting to how the clinic got away with dispensing drugs.

  The chair next to Pearl opened up when the reader got up and went through a door next to Ashleigh’s desk, carrying her chick lit under her arm. I sat down.

  Pearl reached over and squeezed my arm. “Hi cutie,” she said.

  She was buzzing with excitement. Ross had certainly perked my old girl up. I guess I was grateful for that.

  “Have you been in to see the doctor yet?” I whispered.

  A look of triumph came over her face. She opened her palm slowly. She was clutching a prescription form. I turned my head to read it.

  Oxycodone. Three refills. That was powerful stuff.

  “Took maybe five minutes.” Pearl said, smiling broadly. She was having a lot of fun. “Easy, peasy, like Ross said. The doctor asked me a few questions and wrote the prescription. I didn’t even have to take my clothes off.”

  “Darn it,” said the woman next to her. “I was kind of hoping. At my age, no one asks me to strip anymore.”

  Pearl grinned at her. “Yeah, he was cute too. Like Omar Sharif in Funny Girl.”

  “Dark and dreamy?” the woman said. “That’s how I like ’em.”

  She and Pearl dissolved into giggles. I didn’t think all older women were this randy. Pearl had found her match.

  “This is Harriet, by the way,” Pearl said, introducing her newfound friend. “I’m going in with her to see the doctor.”

  I smiled at her. A thought crossed my mind. I leaned into Pearl. “You’re not going to fill that prescription, are you?”

  She whispered, glancing up at Ross. His attention was on Ashleigh. “Of course we are. Ross needs to prove his contention that these doctors are giving out illegal drugs. He won’t have much of a thesis without the actual pills.”

  “You can’t take that medication,” I said.

  Pearl sniffed, “I would never take this stuff. It’s addicting.”

  Harriet put an age-spotted hand on my knee. Her wig shifted, revealing gray hair underneath. “You’re a pretty little thing. Are you hurting, too?”

  My heart leapt into my throat. I recognized the voice. That was no Harriet. That voice belonged to Ina, Pearl’s best friend, member of the original Quilter Paradiso Stitch ’n’ Bitch group. She’d taught at QP for years before retiring.

  “You?” I screamed out the word. Ashleigh and Ross looked up. I segued into a coughing fit and they went back to flirting.

  Ina/Harriet grinned. She must have wrapped an entire roll of batting around her body to pad her frame. The faded floral housedress she was wearing looked like something the Goodwill would throw out.

  “The slippers are a nice touch,” I hissed, keeping an eye on Ross. He was still pumping Ashleigh for information. I wondered how much she was giving away.

  Ina/Harriet put her arm through Pearl’s and pulled her close. “I wasn’t about to allow her to do this alone. Why should she have all the fun?”

  It was like Spy Kids, only with old ladies. I shook my head.

  Ina and Pearl had played good cop, bad cop with me for years. As a high school kid, I’d spent my homework time with them in the classroom. Ina was the tough love type, always loving but taking no guff. Pearl was more laid back. My mother had attributed the difference in their styles to the fact that Pearl had never had children. Pearl thought children would do the right thing if given enough time and love.

  Ina knew some kids were just bad.

  The door opened to the left of the desk. The entire room watched a couple come out. They were probably in their early sixties, dressed in matching Sharks black and teal gear. She was wearing a bulky orthopedic boot. Her husband held on to her elbow.

  “Thank you, Jessie,” the woman said to their escort, a young woman dressed in pink scrubs printed with fat kittens cavorting unnaturally with bunnies. She said goodbye to them and called Harriet’s name loudly as if Harriet was deaf and two blocks away.

  Harriet Tubman, Ina had called herself. I rolled my eyes. These sport folks certainly weren’t up on their history. Pearl helped Ina to her feet and they disappeared through the door.

  Ross smiled at his lady friend. He said, “Smoke break?”

  Despite the arrival of three new clients, she only hesitated a moment. “Sure,” she said, rummaging in her drawer, coming up with a cigarette and pink glittery lighter. “Take a seat,” she told the newcomers.

  “Where’s your restroom?” I asked as she raced past me.

  “Down the hall,” she pointed through the door Pearl and Ina had gone through. “When you’re done, come back out here, have a seat and Jessie will take you back when the doctor is ready.”


  She didn’t remember that I wasn’t a customer.

  I nodded and went through the door. It led to a narrow hallway with rooms on either side. A black and gold sign that said Restroom pointed to the last door.

  I started walking slowly. I moved to the first room and listened at the door, keeping an eye out for Jessie or the doctor.

  “Make sure you pile it on thick,” Pearl was saying. I could hear her pretty clearly.

  I looked up. The space had been divided with Flakeboard partitions, not walls. There was a two-foot gap between the top of each office and the ceiling. Noises carried easily through the space.

  A door farther down the hall opened, and a short man with a sparse beard and long sideburns stepped out. I froze. I was in the middle of the hall. I took a step forward as if back on my original hunt for the bathroom.

  He looked back to say something to Jessie. I took the opportunity to duck into the room next to Pearl’s. An examination table sat in the middle. A poster of the human body, all red veins and blue tendons, hung right in front of me. Behind the small desk hung several diplomas and award certificates for Marcus Aldana. I didn’t recognize the name of the medical school. It was located in Granada.

  This was the wall shared with the next office. I tiptoed over there.

  I heard the door open. “Good afternoon, ladies,” the doctor said. His voice was smooth and confident but low. I strained to hear him. “Where’s it hurting?”

  “Where doesn’t it hurt?” Ina said gruffly.

  “I understand,” he said. His voice faded.

  Ina said, “I don’t think you do. I’m a quilter. My back hurts from stooping over my machine. I ran a needle through my finger and cut my toe when I dropped the rotary cutter. I have a sore elbow from cutting and my knees are killing me.”

  I stifled a giggle. But I couldn’t hear the doctor’s reply.

  I had to get up higher. I stepped on the desk chair, before I noticed it was on wheels. The seat went skittering out from under me. I landed painfully on the outside of my foot and sat down hard on the floor. I stretched out and steadied the chair right before it crashed to the floor.