This Guy Kills Me

by Anlyn Hansell

“G20.”

  “Holy crap is right. You missed an O18, by the way. 2nd card in, top row. And there’s a G20 1st row, 1st card. Hurry the hell up,” Betty spit out as she scanned her own cards.

  After the first thirty or so numbers, Jane was definitely getting the hang of it, or at least Betty was leaving her alone. She missed a number, dabbed the wrong number, much to Betty’s dismay, but she was finally getting into a rhythm. To be truthful, it was kind of fun – when she didn’t screw up.

  “N30.”

  “BINGO!” A woman’s voice cried out. Jane’s head snapped up and scanned the crowd of white haired heads as an arm thrust in the air and waved a card enthusiastically.

  “Shit,” she could hear muttered next to her, undoubtedly Betty.

  Another young man with the same Firehouse T-shirt as the men at the front table was making his way through the rows of tables.

  “She probably cheated!” Jane heard shouted next to her. Her head immediately swiveled toward Betty who in turn was shooting an evil glare across the room, toward the outstretched arm. Suddenly the room went silent. You could hear a pin drop; it was that quiet.

  “Shut up, Betty,” Jane whispered forcefully.

  “She is a cheater, you know. Husbands, Bingo, whatever!” Betty yelled out.

  “Shut up Betty!” a woman’s voice shouted from across the room. The source was definitely the woman who was just moments ago, waving her card.

  “I will not shut up. Everyone knows you’re a dirty whore!” A collective gasp filled the room as Jane’s eyes widened and looked from Betty to Delphine.

  “That’s Doris,” Delphine mouthed to Jane.

  Whoa.

  “Ah…Betty? Everyone’s looking at you…” Jane whispered. Doris stood up and turned toward Betty.

  “Tell everyone what you did, Doris. Or should I say…DeeDee?” Betty grated out as she too pushed her chair out and stood.

  “Sit down,” Jane commanded in a low voice.

  “I will not sit down,” Betty stated as she stamped her foot like a petulant child.

  “You are crazy. You belong in a mental ward. Why they let you in here is a mystery to me. Why don’t you leave? You make everyone miserable,” Doris stated with her hands on her hips.

  The two guys from the front door were making their way toward their table, Jane noticed. She quickly looked to Delphine, looked back to the men and snapped back to Delphine.

  Her vision was tunneling as her eyes captured the widened blue orbs staring back at her.

  A vision of a man, a rather handsome man was filling her sights, coming closer and closer; he was murmuring something as his lips connected with what she assumed was the woman seated in front of her. DeeDee…

  “Ah…Betty?”

  “Shut up, girlie. I’m making a point,” Betty grated out above her as Jane’s eyes were firmly fastened on Delphine.

  “That’s not DeeDee,” Jane stated with certainty. Another vision popped up, the scenery – it was a bedroom. Movement – why was the scenery moving? As if something was pushing from behind? A glance back and the same man was…behind her, naked, his body connected to…Oh dear…

  “Doris isn’t DeeDee,” Jane stated louder this time, her eyes still connected to Delphine.

  “What are you talking about? Be quiet,” Betty commanded.

  “Time to go, Betty,” one the men stated somewhere close to Jane.

  “She’s DeeDee,” Jane stated still staring at Delphine.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, ask her about the butt sex,” Jane stated with wide eyes.

  “Wha…What are you talking about?!” Delphine gasped as guilt and nervousness rolled off her body.

  “Girlie, you need help.”

  “No, I don’t. She did it. Not Doris. Harry…right? Yeah Harry…” She could hear the name panted out in her head. Delphine shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she shook her head.

  “You lived next store. When Betty went to work, Harry would come home for lunch. But he wasn’t eating, was he DeeDee?”

  “You’re insane,” Delphine breathed out.

  “No, I’m not. I’m…he’s at the door, right? You have no clothes on when you answer it. Everyday? Wow. Betty, you got the wrong girl.” Jane continued to stare at the woman in front of her. Delphine was shaking, her face was turning red.

  “Is that true? How the hell do you know that? Is that true?” Betty fired off.

  “Betty, let’s go,” a male voice commanded.

  “No way. Did you?” Betty stared pointedly at the woman across the table.

  “N…No?” Delphine stammered. She was lying. It was so obvious. Her body language screamed deception.

  “Yeah, she did. That party? The graduation party? Remember that? You almost caught them. They were drunk. They went to get another table from the shed. They did it. In the shed. In the middle of the party. You walked in right after. They said they had to move a bunch of stuff to get to the table. I’m seeing the whole thing. You’re such a liar,” Jane directed at Delphine.

  “How do you know that?” Delphine whispered on a shaky breath.

  “It’s true? You’re DeeDee? Oh my god. You were my friend and you let me think it was Doris? All these years. You…you -”

  “He said you were like a cold fish! He said he had needs. I loved him. You never loved him like I did! You didn’t deserve him!” Delphine yelled out before clamping her lips shut. Tears were pooling in her eyes.

  “She still keeps one of his notes in her purse,” Jane supplied quietly.

  “You lying ho-bag piece of shit!” Betty screeched as she made a grab for Delphine before being hauled back by one of the firemen.

  “I don’t care! I don’t! I’m glad you know. I never liked you anyway. All these years, acting like we were buddies…no one likes you. Even Harry. You were so busy with your kids and your job. You never made time for him.”

  “But you did. What about the butt sex?”

  “Wha…I -”

  “That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting. Come on Jane, we’re leaving.” Betty grabbed Jane’s arm shaking her from the mental connection and causing her to blink rapidly.

  “Yeah…Ok, yeah,” Jane murmured as she pushed her chair back from the table and stood. Betty stomped from the room.

  “That’s gross.” Jane pointed her finger at Delphine before her arm was firmly clasped by what she assumed was one of the men standing behind her.

  She shook the hand from her arm and jogged between the tables to catch up with Betty.

  Once outside, she found Betty walking rapidly in the direction of the minivan and began to follow her when one of the men appeared next to her.

  “Well, who knew Bingo could be so exciting, huh?” he quipped as she continued to walk.

  “Hey, um…could you stop for a second?” he asked as he grasped her arm lightly and turned her toward him. Jason. It was Jason from the front table. He had the cutest dimples…

  “I was um…wondering, maybe you’d like to go out sometime?” Really? After all that…

  Staring into his dark blue eyes caused her vision to tunnel rapidly.

  “You have a girlfriend. She wants to get married and you keep putting her off. You say you’re too young and you’re not ready, but the truth is, you’re just waiting. Yeah, you are. You’re waiting for something better. You don’t think she’s hot enough for you. Oh! You live together, I see that now. She’s…her name is…Paige? Peg? Peggy…It’s Peggy. You keep Peggy hanging around because she’s good in the sack, but evidently not good enough to show off. You’re a pig. Can I go now?” She turned on her heel without waiting for a reply and walked quickly through the rows of parked cars to find Betty waiting rather impatiently next to the passenger side door of the minivan.

  She quickly grabbed the keys from her pocket and hit the fob to unlock the doors. Once inside, she immediately started the car and began to back out without putting on her seatbelt or waiting for Betty to do the same.

  Ja
son was still standing in the same spot with his mouth hung open in a rather large “O” as she backed out and slammed the car into Drive.

  The tires gave a small shriek as she hit the gas perhaps a bit too hard, causing both of their heads to ricochet off the seat backs.

  Turning on to the main road, they traveled in silence for at least a minute before Betty finally spoke.

  “Let’s go get a drink,” she stated.

  Amen, sister…

  *****

  “So, you’re psychic.”

  “Yup.”

  “Can you talk to the dead?” Betty asked quietly before taking a sip from her beer bottle.

  “Nope.”

  “Damn. Can you tell the future?”

  “Nope.”

  “Just the past?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What’s that mean?” she asked as her face scrunched up more than it naturally was.

  “It means…it means I can only see stuff that you feel guilty about, or nervous about. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know.”

  “Wow, that’s…pretty useless.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Can I guess that you don’t have many friends?”

  “Not a one. Well, maybe your Grandson. I guess we’re kind of friends.”

  “You’re more than friends. He was going to kiss you in the living room,” she stated knowingly.

  “Yeah, I ah…I don’t get that. I mean, there’s like this tension, right? Or maybe it’s chemistry? I want to kiss him and then I don’t. Or I want to smack him upside the head because he’s pissing me off and then I’m back to wanting to…you know…whatever -”

  “Yuck. I don’t want to know what ‘whatever’ is. I want to talk about this ability of yours.”

  “It’s a curse. It’s not an ability. I am quite possibly the most hated person in the history of the world. It truly sucks,” she stated with a forlorn expression on her face.

  “I’m probably running a close second. Here’s to being hated.” She clinked her beer bottle to Jane’s before taking another swig and placing the bottle on the scarred wooden surface of the bar.

  “Betty, I was wondering -”

  “I need a cigarette,” Betty interrupted as she looked around the dimly lit space. Two men were seated near the far end of the bar, a few couples occupied tables surrounding it. A small bank of unoccupied booths were situated on the wall opposite the bar. This would be what was commonly referred to as a ‘dive bar’. It was clean, maybe in need of some refurbishing but at least the beer was cold and the space was relatively quiet.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” Jane asked warily.

  “Sure. Why not? I’m eighty years old. If I want a cigarette, I can have one. Do I need to prolong my life? I don’t want someone wiping my ass for me. The sooner I go; the better. Go ask those guys at the bar. They keep leaving and coming back. They have cigarettes.”

  “No.”

  “Go on. They keep staring at you like starving dogs. You don’t notice that? They’ll give you one. Hell, the one on the right’ll probably give you the whole pack. Look at him; he’s practically drooling all over the bar.”

  Her gaze swept past the men and yes, they were both staring.

  “Go on,” Betty urged, giving Jane a nudge with her elbow.

  Jane cleared her throat nervously. “Can she have a cigarette?” she stated as she nodded her head in Betty’s direction. They both hopped off their stools and immediately made their way around the bar.

  “Sure, here.” They both aimed two different types of packs toward the older woman.

  “Can I have the whole pack?” Betty asked as she placed her hand on the green pack from one of the men.

  “No.” Jane swatted her hand from the pack and gave her a glare.

  “Fine. Two? Can I have two?”

  “You can have three. Can I get you ladies a drink?” he asked with a hopeful expression on his face. He was older, maybe fifties, kind of scraggly, not very handsome but his blue eyes crinkled and gave him a jolly look. He seemed like a nice guy. He must be a nice guy, Jane surmised. No tunneling vision, not bad thoughts…

  “I’ll have a beer and a nip. Girlie needs one too.” She indicated the bottles and the empty shot glasses next to them.

  “Sure thing. So where are you ladies from?” he asked but Betty was already on her way across the room toward the side door. One of the men turned and followed her.

  “I’m sorry.” Jane shrugged with a sheepish expression on her face.

  “That’s OK. Would you like a cigarette?”

  “I don’t smoke,” she stated as she shook her head. I probably would if I could afford a pack, she thought absently. She hadn’t smoked since she was twenty - right about the time her life took a turn for the worse.

  “Ok, mind if I sit here?” he asked, plopping onto the stool without waiting for permission to do so. Jane opened her mouth but quickly closed it when it became apparent he wasn’t going to wait for an answer.

  “I’m Ted. You are?”

  “Jane,” she muttered as she looked over his shoulder toward the door Betty disappeared behind.

  “Hi, Jane.

  “Hi. You know, I should probably…I don’t know, I should probably see after Betty. She’s out there by herself and I’m supposed to be watching her.”

  “That’s Ok. Jack’s with her, she’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah…I don’t -”

  “So where are you from? I’ve never seen you in here before, I would’ve noticed. You’re really pretty.”

  “Thanks,” she stated distractedly as she immediately popped off the stool and stood. “I’m just going to check on her -”

  “I’ll go with you,” he offered to her slight annoyance. How was she going to find out anything from Betty with these two hanging around? Stupid cigarettes…

  As soon as she pushed the heavy metal door open, the sound of cackling hit her ears or more precisely, Betty cracking up. Jack was standing to one side of the door laughing before taking a puff and choking on it.

  “What’s so funny?” Ted asked as his head swiveled from Betty to Jack.

  After a small coughing fit, Jack pointed his cigarette to Betty who for all accounts was puffing her cigarette like a death row inmate enjoying one last smoke.

  “She told me a dirty joke,” he stated finally.

  “Oh? What was it?”

  “You tell him. I need to talk to girlie here,” she stated as she took one long last drag before tossing the butt in a bucket and grasping Jane’s arm.

  “We need some alone time, Ok?” she stated to the men as she opened the door with surprising strength for an eighty-year old.

  “Oh, um…Ok,” one of the men stated with disappointment in his voice as Jane followed her back into the bar. Betty walked to the bar, grabbed her beer and shot and urged Jane to do the same.

  “Come on, we’ll sit at a booth,” she ordered and immediately walked to the far side of the room before squeezing her small frame onto the cracked and worn leather bench.

  “All right, so you say you can only see…what? Stuff people feel guilty about?” she asked as Jane settled herself across from her. A small light hung above the booth casting a sparse amount of muted light on the table.

  “Or anxious, nervous, yeah…but guilt seems to be a big one for me,” Jane admitted.

  “Ok. What do you see?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What do you see? I mean, how do you do it? I want you to read me. This is fascinating you know – totally bizarre, mind you, but fascinating.”

  “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll try, but I want you to answer some questions for me.”

  “Deal. Ok, so what do you see?”

  Jane stared into her eyes, waiting for something, anything to happen. No tunneling, no voices in her head, just…nothing.

  “I’m getting nothing. You need to think about something you feel guilty about. Come on, Betty.”

  In an ins
tant, Betty’s face was distorting and pushing back; becoming smaller and smaller before disappearing altogether. She was looking at a desk. A desk with neatly piled papers and a small lamp. The windows on the side of the room showed darkness outside. The lamp on the desk illuminated it and cast the rest of the room in muted light. A rotary phone, a phone number written on a white tablet. A voice…

  “You’re working late? You just ordered flowers for…someone. Why is that bad? Oh! Your boss. You ordered flowers for someone in Roseville. It’s…not his wife. His…mistress? And…you’re missing Karen’s recital, she plays the, um…clarinet? Yeah, she plays the clarinet and you’re pissed because you have to work late and especially because you like your boss’s wife, but you don’t say anything to him about the mistress, because he’s your boss and you just do whatever he tells you to do. Wow – that’s a nice office, I can’t make much of it out because it’s dark in there but what I see is kind of…opulent.”

  “Wow. What else?” Jane heard as her vision changed to a home. A small home, but well maintained, surrounded by other small homes on a neighborhood block. A car door closing, a nice car, big, with…fins on the back, a Cadillac. “You’re getting out of a car. It’s a Cadillac, walking to the front of a house, your house? You’re passing by the front walkway, headed to…the house next door? It’s starting to get dark out, you’re late. You walk up the steps to the house and the front door is open but the storm door is glass and you can see in. There’re kids at the table in the back of the house, seated with some adults. They’re eating dinner? You feel bad. The woman sees you, she’s getting up, she’s in a dress, like from the 50’s or I don’t know – she looks like June Cleaver or something. Holy shit – that’s Delphine! It is, isn’t it? She’s watching your kids and feeding them dinner and you feel bad because you came home late, but then, you’re always late and…you think you drove your husband away. He said you always put your work first and you know he was right. Oh, Betty – I’m sure that wasn’t true. I mean, you feel terrible. I feel like crying right now -”

  “Me too.”

  The vision ended abruptly causing Jane to blink rapidly. Betty’s eyes were closed, and a small tear slipped from the side of one eye down her cheek.

  “I went to school, I wanted to go to college, but my Mom talked me into trade school instead. I got a job in the typing pool at GM in the fifties. I worked my way up and the next thing I know, I’m the secretary to the CEO,” she stated as she brushed the tear from her cheek.