Short for Chameleon

by Vicki Grant

  “I have a confession to make,” she said. “When Albertina found out she didn’t have much time left, she took me aside and gave me strict instructions about her funeral. There were two rules I was absolutely not, under any circumstances, allowed to break.

  “I broke the first one earlier today, but Lord knows, not for want of trying. She made me promise I wouldn’t get up here looking my usual frumpy self, but I just could not get those darn false eyelashes on.”

  Big crowd-pleaser. Hearty laughter.

  “The second rule I haven’t broken yet, but I will. You can probably picture this: Albertina leaning back in her wheelchair and saying, ‘All right, Your Grace. None of this nonsense about what a fine human being I was. Just sprinkle me with incense or barbecue sauce or whatever the hell it is you do and put me out with the garbage Wednesday morning.’

  “Sorry, Albertina. But I can’t do that. I’ve got to get in my two cents’ worth before the garbage truck comes by.

  “I knew Albertina for a long time but that doesn’t mean I knew her well. She wasn’t shy about telling me what she thought of my sermon or my outfit or my choice in men for that matter, but she wasn’t too forthcoming otherwise. Over the years, however, I did glean that she’d known enormous sorrow in her life. After Eldon died, she tried to get back on her feet. She straightened herself out. Fought off her demons. She eventually married again, but the only good to come out of that, she told me, were a few hog-calling trophies. After the divorce, more darkness followed. It was only when she gave herself over to helping others that she could truly live again.

  “And she did. Her life became about making sure that others never suffered as she had. I see heads nodding. I know that’s why so many of you are here today. She was your champion. She fought to make the world a better place for you, or for your family, or even just for some stranger she’d seen mistreated. In Albertina, we saw how one tiny person with nothing more than love and determination and an outlandish sense of style can slay giants.

  “So, again, I apologize to Albertina for breaking my promise and ‘wasting your jeezly time,’ but I ask that in memory of our dear brave friend, you do two things. One: go out and help someone less fortunate than yourself. And two: do something with that awful hair of yours.

  “And now, please rise for the singing of ‘My Wild Irish Rose.’”

  CHAPTER 28

  It was the bridesmaid-from-hell dress. Bright pink. Puffed sleeves. Bow in the back. I barely recognized her.

  “What? You don’t like it?” Raylene had popped out at us from behind a tree at the far end of the parking lot just as we were leaving. She was even wearing lipstick. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, the fuchsia lipstick Albertina kept on her key chain.

  She held out her skirt and spun around like a little kid playing princess or a lady in an adult diaper commercial.

  “Well, I like it.” Suraj may be my best friend but he’s never been one to miss an opportunity.

  I went, “Why weren’t you at the funeral?”

  She stopped twirling but kept the laugh on her face. “I was. At the back. Got in a bit late. I couldn’t find any shoes at the Sally Ann that matched, so I had to go to Frenchie’s Bargain Shop.”

  She pointed her toe. Her shoes were high-heeled and pointed and covered in useless buckles. Suraj said, “Ooh. Steampunk-Cinderella.”

  “I know. Fabulous, aren’t they?”

  “Bit disrespectful to Albertina, coming in late like that, don’t you think?” I wasn’t going to let her think this was just some joke.

  “Please. Disrespectful would be arriving at her funeral in shoes that didn’t match.”

  Couldn’t argue with that. Luckily, I didn’t even have to try. Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around.

  Dr. Ewan and his big, sad face.

  “There you are. Thought I’d missed you.”

  I introduced him to Suraj, then he gave Raylene and me each a bear hug.

  “I was a big fan of your grandmother’s,” he said. “She was a real old-fashioned broad—and I mean that in the best way possible. I was always sore by the time she left my office, either from laughing or having her tear a strip off me. I’m going to miss her—or at least miss most of her.”

  We chuckle-nodded at that, then stood around awkwardly, scuffling our feet.

  “Listen,” he said after a while. “I’m not sure it’s my business to say this, but I’ve been worried about you guys. I understand Albertina died on your watch.”

  “We weren’t actually there,” Raylene said. “We went to get her pills from the car, but by the time we got back, she was, you know, like, um, gone.” Her voice cracked. We all pretended not to notice.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Randy Norwood—the pharmacist downstairs from me? I think you know him. We’d been conferring about Albertina for a while. He was worried she was stockpiling meds in case she needed them.”

  “Needed them for what?” I said.

  “Suicide.” Raylene sounded so sure.

  Dr. Ewan rocked his head side to side. “I prefer end-of-life self-care. Her prognosis wasn’t good. She’d told me many times that there was no way she was ending up in hospital like some voodoo doll with a bunch of needles sticking out of her. The day she died, in fact, I’d had a little talk with her. I told her she had a week or so left—if she was lucky. I tried to convince her to go somewhere she’d be comfortable but, well, you saw how she reacted to that. She was determined to do things her own way.”

  “You think that’s what she did?” I was shocked. “Took a bunch of pills while we were gone?”

  He curled his bottom lip, shook his head. “No sign of that. And it wasn’t the shrimp either. I think she died when she did because she decided not to take her pills. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion she felt her heart acting up and thought, what the hell? I’m in a nice restaurant. Just had a delicious meal with my beloved grandkids. May as well leave on a high note. She got you out of the way to make sure you missed the gruesome stuff, then just let nature take its course. It would have been relatively fast. What we in the business call a clutch-and-keel. Felt a pain. Grabbed her throat. A few minutes later, it was all over.”

  Raylene had taken off her glasses and was wiping the tears away with her palm.

  “You shouldn’t feel bad about it.” Dr. Ewan put his hand on my shoulder. “If it hadn’t happened then, it would have happened the next day.” There was a long, relatively awkward pause while we pulled ourselves together, then he said, “So. Your older sister make it today?”

  Good thing about my Almost Family training is that I’m pretty used to having things thrown at me. I’d already shaken my head in what I hoped was a convincing manner before I realized what he was talking about. Oh, right. That older sister. The one who was supposedly looking after Albertina.

  “She was too upset.”

  “Too bad. I always wanted to meet her. Your grandmother thought the world of her.”

  We smiled and shook hands and promised to come by if we ever needed anything from him, then Dr. Ewan headed off to his car.

  “O. Emmm. G.” Raylene had stopped dead. She was gawking at something near the church. “You see what I see?”

  Suraj turned to look but I didn’t. I was worried if I took my eyes off her even for a second, she’d disappear again, and I didn’t want that. As it was, she seemed to be slipping back behind the tree.

  “What?” he said.

  “That guy talking to Reverend Muncaster. That’s him.”

  “Who?”

  “Wade Freaking Schmidt.”

  “You mean, Mr. Lorenzo?”

  “Yup.”

  “Whoa. Ballsy move.” I’d already told Suraj the whole story. “Didn’t think he’d be on the guest list.”

  I couldn’t resist anymore. I turned, too. “And that other guy’s the waiter,” I said.

  “You sure?” Raylene was squinting out from behind the tree.

  “He’s waving at us.”
I waved back. “I’m sure.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Raylene was in a rage and also the driver’s seat. A bad combination.

  “No. C’mon! Think about it! Seriously.” She glared at me as if this was my fault.

  “Eyes on the road!” I screamed. I don’t know how she’d talked us into Albertina’s car again.

  “Relax. Jeez. No one was even on the sidewalk. Okay. Listen. Let’s say Dr. Ewan is correct and Albertina killed herself.”

  “He didn’t say ‘killed herself.’”

  “Okay. Let herself die. Better?”

  “More accurate.”

  “Fine. Why would she do it at Lorenzo’s?”

  “She couldn’t stand the wallpaper a second longer?” Suraj was trying to add a little levity to the situation. Raylene wasn’t amused. He went back to playing with my phone. (I let him look at it just so he didn’t fall too far behind, technologically speaking. All he has is an ancient clamshell and he has to share that with his brothers. Tuesday wasn’t his day.)

  “I don’t know,” I said. “She’d probably just had enough. Old people get that way. Dr. Ewan said . . .”

  “No!” Raylene slammed her hand on the dashboard. “Albertina was not old people. Albertina was not the type to have just had enough. You’re not trying. Think!”

  I was scared the next thing she’d be slamming into was the car in front of us, so I started thinking.

  “To upset him? To annoy him? I don’t know. To get back at him?”

  “Yes!” Both hands off the wheel for one brief but terrifying moment.

  “You’re kidding. You don’t actually think Albertina was tough or mean or crazy enough to let herself die just to”—I made air quotes—“get back at someone.”

  “Why are you surprised? She said she was going to fricassee his ass.”

  “For what?” Suraj said. “Not that that requires a reason.”

  “No idea,” Raylene answered. “That’s why we’re going back to her apartment.”

  I crumpled mentally. I’d been under the delusion we were going to get something to eat. I didn’t want to go the apartment again. Call me crazy but break-and-enter has never been my thing. Neither is getting arrested, and I just knew we were going to get arrested one of these days.

  Raylene turned into the parking lot at Albertina’s building. For a second, it looked like she’d decided to play chicken with a large green dumpster, but she swerved just in the nick of time.

  “All right, guys. Let’s go,” she said.

  I swallowed, summoned my courage. This had to stop now.

  “No,” Suraj said before I could open my mouth.

  We both turned and stared at him.

  “I think you’re going to want to see this video first.” He handed my phone up to the front seat.

  CHAPTER 30

  JERKY IMAGES OF THE SALT SHAKER, THEN THE OVERHEAD LIGHT, THEN BACK TO THE SALT SHAKER, THEN SUDDENLY ALBERTINA’S BLOODSHOT EYE APPEARS, ALMOST FILLING THE SCREEN.

  Albertina (in an angry whisper): Cam? Cam? Can you hear me? I have no idea if this jeezly thing is working.

  PHONE IS PICKED UP AND SHAKEN, THEN PROPPED UP AGAIN. IN THE BACKGROUND, A WAITER SCOOTS BY THE TABLE WITH FOUR DISHES SPREAD OUT ALONG HIS ARMS.

  Albertina (in apparent pain): Okay. Whatever. Listen, kiddies. (Big breath.) Wish I could hang around until we nail this bonehead (gravelly laugh) but that ain’t happening. I gotta go with my gut. Any luck (more coughing) and this’ll at least shut the sucker down.

  SOUNDS OF ALBERTINA WHEEZING. PHONE SLIDES DOWN ONTO ITS SIDE, THEN IS READJUSTED. WOMAN AT THE TABLE ACROSS THE AISLE TRIES TO LOOK ELEGANT WHILE SLURPING SPAGHETTI.

  ALBERTINA’S FACE APPEARS IN THE SCREEN, SIDEWAYS, LIKE A CURIOUS PARROT.

  Albertina (slow and croaky): One last thing. Cam. You’re a good boy. Look after yourself. Look after Hannah too. (Long pause) Oh, and call that damn agent of your dad’s. He needs his own show. (Low groan.) Okay. So long, suckers. It’s been a blast.

  ALBERTINA’S HAND SWIPES HER PLATE OFF THE TABLE. LOUD CRASH.

  Albertina: Help! (Gasp) Help! I’ve been poisoned! Help! It’s the shrimp! Help!

  WOMAN AT THE NEXT TABLE DROPS HER FORK AND STANDS UP. SHE BEGINS TO SCREAM. ALBERTINA’S FOOT SWINGS IN AND OUT OF FRAME. PEOPLE CROWD AROUND. THE WAITER PUSHES THROUGH.

  Waiter: You okay, lady? Don’t worry. I’m getting help. I’m calling 911.

  Albertina (feebly): I don’t want 911. I want Wade.

  Waiter: Wade?

  Albertina: The owner, you moron!

  Waiter (waving): Signor Martinelli! Signor Martinelli!

  WADE HOVES INTO VIEW. HIS FACE IS PINK AND PANICKED. HE LEANS TOWARDS ALBERTINA.

  Albertina (attempting to scream to other diners): Don’t touch the shrimp! The shrimp will kill you!

  Wade: Try to stay calm, ma’am. Everything is going to be okay.

  Albertina (tough-girl voice): Yeah. You bet it is, Wade.

  Wade: Do I know you?

  Albertina (gasping): You did. You knew me well enough to steal every cent I had.

  Wade (whispering): I have no idea what you’re talking about.

  Albertina: Ha! (prolonged coughing) Don’t play innocent with me. 1978? Bulwark Investments? My grandchildren know all about it. They’re on to you.

  Wade (through clenched teeth): I was cleared of all charges in a court of law. That’s over and done with.

  Albertina: Yeah, well, doesn’t mean we’re not going to get you. Remember what happened to Al Capone? You’re our Al Capone.

  Wade (to the crowd): Stand back! Let her get some air.

  Wade (whispering to waiter): But not too much.

  Albertina (gasping): This is it, Wade. I’m done for. And so are you—once the world find outs what you’ve been up to. And it will.

  ALBERTINA STRUGGLES TO WINK.

  Albertina (with one last big effort): It was the shrimp!

  A LOUD CLUNK. GENERALIZED SCREAMING. SCREEN BLANKED OUT AS PEOPLE CROWD AROUND.

  CHAPTER 31

  Raylene didn’t need to give us another pep talk. Nothing like a little message from the grave to get you moving. We left the car behind the dumpster and snuck up to Albertina’s apartment.

  As soon as we were inside, Raylene whispered, “Undo me.” She turned her back and waved a hand over her shoulder until I realized she meant her dress. Suraj mouthed, Oh my God. Should I go? I mouthed back, Don’t. Leave. Me. Then I pulled down her zipper, my face turned away as if I was worried something would explode when it hit bottom.

  Raylene stepped out of the dress. She was wearing her tank top and shorts underneath. Suraj and I regained the use of our legs.

  “That’s better,” she whispered. “Now, let’s get at it.”

  She started wading through files on the floor. “I went through all the stuff we took the other night. Nothing more about Schmidt so it must be in here somewhere. Albertina said she kept everything.”

  Raylene gave us our instructions via hand signals, then we started tiptoeing around the apartment like a bunch of mimes re-enacting an episode of CSI.

  She looked in the kitchen. I stuck to the living room. Suraj opened the closet door and files barfed out onto the floor.

  Raylene and I both went, “Shush!” like a couple of giant vacuum cleaners. If that didn’t alert the neighbours to the presence of intruders, nothing would. We played statues until we were sure no one was coming to arrest us, then got back to work.

  We scrabbled around for a good hour. We found broken earrings, tubes of lipstick, cases of eye shadow, hundreds of files, and a crazy number of orthopedic insoles, but not a single thing about Schmidt.

  I stood up to stretch and noticed the black cabinet Albertina claimed she kept her makeup in.

  Makeup?

  I stared at it.

  I didn’t care what she’d told us. No way something that size was just for makeup.

  I tried to open the door but it was locked.

  “
Raylene,” I whispered. “The keys.” She handed me Albertina’s giant keychain.

  I got the right one on the sixth try and the door swung open.

  The rest of the apartment looked like a recycling plant. The inside of the black cabinet looked like an OCD fantasy. No makeup, no junk, no animal crackers, just ten to fifteen files, neatly stacked. It wasn’t hard to find Schmidt’s. It was on the top and almost as overstuffed as he was.

  “Ta-da!” I whispered and waved it over my head.

  Suraj did a slo-mo victory dance and a silent one-handed high-five.

  Raylene put her hand over her mouth, then her other around my waist, and at that moment, I honestly could not have cared less about Wade Jeezly Schmidt.

  “C’mon, c’mon. Put it here.” She swept a spot clean on the bed and I opened the file.

  There was a picture of a young, skinny Wade from about forty years ago, paper-clipped to the folder. Ski-goggle glasses, nasty plaid jacket, moustache the size of small marsupial.

  “Whoa,” Suraj went. “Super-Mario-goes-disco-dancing.”

  “No kidding.” I was surprised Albertina had even been able to recognize him.

  Raylene flipped up the photo and ran her finger over the information sheet below. “Wade Upton Schmidt. Born: April 12, 1948. Graduated from John Thompson Elementary School, Spryfield Junior High, blah-blah-blah, married So-and-So, divorced. Founder of financial firm Bulwark Investments. Sold shares . . .”

  She stopped. Her neck went rigid and her eyes went still, and it was hard not to think of a very cute predator on a nature documentary. She put her finger to her lips and mouthed, Someone’s coming.

  Scuffling of feet. Muffled voices. Key in the lock.

  Suraj dove behind the black so-called makeup kit. Raylene jumped into the closet. I stood in the centre of the room, my head tick-tocking back and forth as I looked for a place to hide. Raylene grabbed my hand, pulled me into the closet, and shut us in.

  The door to the apartment opened. Someone said, “Here you go. No disrespect. I liked your mother and everything but she sure wasn’t much of a housekeeper. You’re going to have a devil of a time finding whatever it is you’re looking for.”