by Gina Ranalli
Once the nurse moved away, Tea said, “We can just wait here until one gets back.”
“No, it was a stupid idea anyway. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I think it was a pretty good idea,” she disagreed.
“If we were to snatch one, we could be signing someone’s death warrant. I don’t want that on my hands.”
“Well…what then?”
Ed felt defeated. He was stuck here, helpless to do anything about what was probably happening at his house, though he didn’t want to think about the specifics. “I’m gonna kill that fucking Bowie.”
Tea tilted her head. “Who?”
“Never mind.”
“I think we should just go back to my first idea.”
“What? That I dress up like a nurse? That would never work. It’s not enough of a disguise and everyone knows my face.”
She spent some time pulling and yanking her lower lip as if it were taffy, her eyes on Ed but her mind clearly elsewhere. Then she blinked and was with him again. She grinned and Ed was struck by how pretty she was. Beautiful, even. He had to shake his head to clear it and listen to what she was saying.
When she was finished, he wasn’t crazy about the idea, but he had to admit he didn’t have a better one.
Grim-faced, he said, “What the hell. Let’s give it a whirl.”
19
In the nurse’s locker room, they pulled open lockers, shoving things aside that would be of no use to them. They’d searched about a dozen when Tea said, “Ed.”
The seriousness of her voice caused him to turn around. “What?”
“Check this out.”
He crossed the room and when she stepped back from the locker, he saw a big trash bag on the floor inside it. He looked at her quizzically.
“Look inside it.”
Ed leaned down and opened the bag. Inside it was a bunch of empty dish soap bottles. His stomach did a summersault and when he glanced at the shelf in the locker what he saw there didn’t make him feel any less queasy. Several small canisters of pepper spray lined up just as neat as you please.
“What the fuck?” He swung the locker door closed so he could read the name on the outside of it: S. PALMETTO. He fell back a step. “Oh, Jesus.”
“Palmetto,” Tea read aloud. “Like the cockroach?”
“What?” Ed felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“Haven’t you ever heard of Palmetto bugs? I guess they’re really big cockroaches that can fly. Florida is supposed to be infested with them.”
He put a hand against his chest, as if he was experiencing pain there and the truth of the matter was, he was.
“Looks like you busted me, Eddie.”
Ed and Tea whirled to see Sandy rounding the corner, walking purposefully towards them.
“You did all this to me?” Ed’s voice was shaky. “All this time you were helping them hurt me?”
“Not enough, Ed,” she said coldly. “We were never able to hurt you enough. You’re like a goddamn bull. There doesn’t seem to be any stopping you. But this might.” Suddenly, she lunged for him and he caught a glimpse of something in her hand but couldn’t tell what it was. He threw up his arm across his face, to protect himself, which was bad form—very bad form—he should have known better. What was he thinking, leaving himself open like that?
Something stung his elbow—a knife?—Whatever it was, it turned his legs to Jello and then he was going down, all jittering. He thought of eggs frying and he heard a woman scream. Then he was on his back on the floor, twitching uncontrollably and he had a terrible fear that he was going to piss himself.
A sack of some sort fell on top of him, hindering his twitching. His right hand—his bad hand—shook the worst. It stuck out from under the sack, flopping around on the floor. He could see it out of the corner of his eye and for some reason this made him want to cry.
“Ed? Ed!”
Tea’s face came into view, looking scared, short dark hair framing her features. She still looked beautiful.
“Ed, snap out of it!” She slapped him across the face, once, twice, three times.
“Ouch,” he coughed. “Knock it off.”
“Yeah, not so fun when you’re the one being hit, is it?”
The comment stung him more than the slapping had. He tried to sit up and she grabbed him by his wrists, pulling as hard as she could.
“You really are an ox,” she said when he was in a seated position. “Are you okay?”
He was feeling his body, especially his elbow. “I think so. What did she hit me with?”
“This.” Tea held up a taser, then gestured with it. Ed saw Sandy twitching on the floor. “Zapped her a good one in the neck. Hope it doesn’t kill her.”
Ed still felt weird, like there was electricity buzzing around in his veins. “I can’t believe it. I thought she was my friend.”
“Well, I guess you thought wrong. But look at the bright side. This little gadget could come in handy. Come on—get up.”
He didn’t see any bright side. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so betrayed, and knowing that later, when all this was over, he’d feel more angry than hurt and maybe even more stupid than angry, it still didn’t diminish the ache in his chest. Getting to his feet, he looked down at Sandy. “Should we just leave her like that?”
Tea considered the question. “We could tie her up, I guess. Or just keep zapping her.”
“Let’s find something to tie her up with,” he said. He didn’t think he could stomach zapping her repeatedly with the taser unless it was in self-defense.
They found panty-hose and bras and tied her up with those. As an afterthought, Tea stuck someone’s dirty sock in the nurse’s mouth to keep her from shouting for help and causing them further trouble. Once she was securely tied, they dragged her to the back of the locker room where the laundry bins were, lifted her up and tossed her inside one of them. A bunch of dirty scrubs and towels went in on top of her.
“That ought to keep her quiet for a while,” Tea said. She leaned over the laundry bin and shouted, “Maybe this will teach you that violence only begets violence!”
Ed found himself feeling grateful to her. She’d actually managed to get a smile out of him.
20
A little less than an hour later and they were bravely putting their new plan into action.
It was Tea who dressed as a nurse, wearing peach scrubs too big for her but they didn’t think anyone would notice with all the commotion going on.
In front of her, she pushed a wheelchair in which Ed sat, his entire head and hands wrapped in thick gauze, only his eyes and lips showing. A blanket covered the lower half of his body under which was the belly portion of Tea’s fat suit. Anyone who studied his chest would see the top half of a flowery maternity dress beneath which huge breasts protruded, eagerly awaiting the milking that most certainly was in their future.
In reality, the breasts were the small pillows always found on examining room tables, bunched up into balls that kept their shape with the help of surgical tape.
Tea wheeled the chair up to the sliding glass doors where Ed had recently flipped off the angry mob.
“We’re never gonna get away with this,” Ed said, his voice muffled.
“We have to try,” she replied. “And just be quiet. You’re a pregnant burn victim. You’re in no mood to speak. In fact, it might be best if you just pretend to be asleep.”
“How will you get me in the car if I’m asleep?”
It took a while for her to answer. “Good point. You’re awake, but you still can’t talk.”
“Won’t they think it’s weird that the nurse is driving off with a pregnant burn victim?”
“I have no idea. But, you’re being transferred to a facility better equipped to handle your injuries. And besides, all the ambulances are out on calls. I’m going above and beyond the call of duty. Maybe dropping you off at another hospital on my way home from work.”
“Y
ou’re a regular Florence Nightingale.”
“A what?”
“Never mind. Why is a nurse parked in the visitor’s parking lot?”
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “Stop asking so many questions.”
“I just want to know my part.”
“Okay. You’re part is to sit there and play shut the fuck up.”
“This isn’t gonna work.”
“Probably not with that attitude.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah, good idea. Mumble a prayer or something. Pretend to be delirious. But make sure you do it in a high squeaky voice.”
Ed groaned miserably. “Let’s just get it over with.”
Without warning him, Tea yelled over to the nurse at the front desk. “Open up! Can’t you see this woman needs a better hospital!”
The nurse glowered at them, but unlocked the door long enough for them to slip through it. Pushing the wheelchair fast, Tea made a beeline for her car, wheeling through the crowd.
“Oh my goodness!” A woman gasped, stepping in front of them. She held a sign that said “PUNCH A MOTHER PUNCHER TODAY!” “What happened to this poor woman? Did the Mother Puncher do this?”
“Uh…no,” Tea said. “It was an accident in…uh..the boiler room.”
Ed flinched, knowing they were doomed.
“The boiler room?” The woman questioned. “What was she doing down there?”
“Uh….hiding. From the Mother Puncher.”
“Oh my word! Did you all hear that? This poor woman was hiding from the Mother Puncher and got burned! You poor, poor woman!” She bent forward and patted Ed’s knee. “Good for you, though, I say. Good for you!”
Ed nodded, wondering if he was going to have a heart attack.
“Make some room, people,” Tea commanded. “This woman needs emergency treatment!”
“Are they refusing to treat her in there?” the woman asked, still blocking the way. “I bet they are. An accident of this nature. They’re probably already saying it was her own fault and calling up their fancy lawyers!”
A crowd had gathered around them and Ed could feel sweat trickling down his side. He shivered involuntarily.
Whispers were moving through the crowd, murmurs of “She was hiding from the Mother Puncher.” “What a shame!” “We have to make them pay!” “We’ll give that bastard what’s coming to him!”
Tea was inching the wheelchair forward. “Please, people. Make way. All the ambulances are gone and I have to get this woman to another hospital.”
“She must be in terrible pain.”
“She is,” Tea confirmed. “She’s very traumatized. That Mother Puncher in there swore he was going to punch her anyway, burns or no burns!”
A gasp went through the crowd and then it was as if a switch had been thrown. All of a sudden they were enraged and rushed passed Tea and Ed, in an attempt to storm the hospital.
Looking over her shoulder at the people pounding on the glass, Tea said, “Oops.”
“Just get us to the fucking car!” Ed hissed.
Tea didn’t hesitate. She broke into a run, pushing the wheelchair along at an alarming speed. The reached the Volkswagen and, once they confirmed that the mob was paying no attention to them, Ed leapt from the wheelchair and scuttled into the car, squeezing his huge bulk inside with a wheezy intake of breath.
Getting behind the wheel, Tea slammed her door and locked it. Ed did the same on his side, and she started the engine and peeled out, burning rubber.
Ed didn’t see a single person in the crowd turn to watch them go.
21
Tea laughed loudly, slamming her hand against the steer wheel. “Oh my fucking God!” she squealed with delight. “Can you believe we just did that? They bought it! Are we good or what? Oh my God, what idiots!”
She continued on that way for the entire ride, with Ed occasionally interrupting to give her directions.
When they neared the turnoff, Ed said, “Drive right up to the gate.”
Tea looked in amazement at the long brick wall with gold lettering that surrounded most of the community. “You live at Envision?”
“It’s a lifestyle,” he said.
“It sure is, but not the one I imagined from the ads.”
They pulled up to find one side of the huge cast-iron gate hanging crookedly from its post. It looked as if someone had rammed through it with a tank.
Ed felt sick to his stomach again.
The guard shack was empty as they drove by, thumping over a plastic garbage can that had been thrown into the driveway, the garbage strewn everywhere over the manicured lawns.
“What happened here?” Tea asked softly.
He didn’t respond, but the deeper they drove into the community, the more obvious the answer became.
Residents, some of whom Ed recognized, wandered around in a daze, looking at their previously beautiful half-million dollar homes, vandalized. There were smashed windows, doors kicked in, profanities spray painted across cars, mailboxes kicked over. Gardens had been ripped up, flowers and shrubs tossed every which way. They passed a large burning oak, the fire just beginning to die down.
“Whatever it was, I think we missed it,” Tea said.
“Look!” Ed pointed to one house, a message five feet tall, sprayed across its front, windows and all. The message read: GIVE UP THE MOTHER PUNCHER!
“Oh, shit.” Tea breathed.
Ed was wondering what had happened to Drizzle. The kid hadn’t called him again to notify Ed of his arrival at Envision. Now, he was afraid he knew why.
“That’s the one,” he pointed again, this time to his house, which by all appearances, was dark. “The one with the Firebird in the driveway.”
Tea pulled up to the curb and parked, but kept the engine running. “Looks deserted.”
“Yeah. But I don’t think it is.”
He got out of the Volkswagen, pulling off the bandages that covered his skin. Then the dress he’d put on over his own clothes, the fat belly and rolled up pillows falling to the pavement silently. While he did this, he kept his eyes on his home, searching the windows for movement, for any sign of life at all.
There wasn’t any.
Ed walked around to the driver’s side and said, “You wait here.”
“I don’t think I want to,” Tea said. She sounded afraid.
“For once, don’t give me any crap. The second shit goes down, I want you to drive this piece of shit car of yours as fast as it will go and get the hell out of Dodge. Don’t even look back. Got that?”
Silence from inside the car.
He bent over, stuck his head in the window. “Thanks for all your help, Tea. You’ve been a blessing.”
Her eyes widened, mouth opening to say something that she didn’t quite have words for. It was then he noticed that she wasn’t even looking at him, but behind him.
Ed spun around in time to see the silent crowd rounding the back of his house, coming from both sides, not moving particularly fast, but not slow either.
Bowie was leading the crowd approaching from the west side, shoving Ash along, a knife to her throat.
Behind him, he heard Tea whisper, “Jesus.”
From the eastern side, another man Ed didn’t recognize pushed Drizzle ahead of him with the barrel of a shotgun.
Ed tried to count the number of people, found he couldn’t. There were just too many. Maybe six dozen, maybe more. And most of them seemed to be carrying weapons of some sort.
Trying not to sound panicked, he said, “Tea. Drive.”
But she didn’t. He didn’t know if she was frozen in fear or if she intended to do battle beside him. He hoped it was the former and that her fear would eventually break and she would go, before it was too late for her.
“Howdy, Champ!” Bowie called cheerfully. “Look who I got here. Why, it’s your purdy little wifey. Ain’t she a beauty? A little too skinny for my taste, but what the hell. She got a snatch, right?” His laughter boomed and echo
ed like the voice of God.
“Let her go, Bowie,” Ed said. “She didn’t do anything.”
Both crowds had become one on his lawn and stopped walking towards him. They simply stood and stared.
“You’re wrong about that, buddy,” Bowie said. “She did something alright. She loved and supported you! She harbored a goddamn lowlife woman-beating MOTHER PUNCHER! She should die for her sins, same as you.”
“And this one too!” the man pointing the shotgun at Drizzle shouted.
Ed ignored the stranger, keeping his eyes on Bowie. “You fucking hypocrite.” He wished he could wrap his hands around the snake’s neck for just one minute. Just one. The he addressed the rest of the crowd. “This man is lying to you people. He’s a Mother Puncher too. The worst kind. A fucking vigilante!”
The crowd murmured but Bowie silenced them quickly.
“Bullshit” he screamed, giving Ash a hard shake. “Tell them, woman! Tell them the truth!” He pushed the point of the blade against her throat, just beneath her earlobe. Ash cried out and Ed saw blood flow freely down her neck.
“It’s true!” Ash cried. “This man…Bowie…never laid a hand on any woman ever.” She burst into tears and Bowie cut her again, making her scream.
Ed felt like crying himself. Instead, he shouted, “You fucking bastard! I’ll kill you! Be a man and face me, one on one!”
“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you,” Bowie grinned at him.
“Fucking right I would,” Ed agreed. “Will you people pay attention? He never hurt a woman? What the fuck is he doing right now?”
“Shut up” Bowie screamed. He shook Ash again. “Tell him”
“I’m pregnant with Bowie’s baby!” Ash sobbed. “Okay? Okay? I told him!”
All the blood drained from Ed’s face and he felt it go. “That’s a lie,” he said, his voice low. “You’re making her say that!”
“Am I?” Bowie asked, grinning once again. “You need to pay for your sins, Champ. A man should not lay an angry hand upon a woman, so sayeth the LORD ALMIGHTY!”
