“That’s not a bad idea. We can stop by the video store after we pay the mortgage today.”
We spent a few hours getting the house back in order and then drove the Sidekick over to Charleston to pay the mortgage. We left the Pinto at home just in case someone might recognize it from Bella’s or Hubba Hubba. It was a pretty memorable car and we didn’t want folks to start connecting our whereabouts in case they figured out what we were trying to do. We decided to pay six months worth of mortgage at once in case our money happened to go missing at least we wouldn’t be homeless. That left us with about $14,000 from our initial payment.
The money was sure disappearing fast.
The video store was empty expect for the lone employee working the register. Streaming video must be bad for business. If anybody in town got one of those movie vending machines, this place would probably go out of business. I waited until we were in the back corner browsing action movies before I whispered to Ulyssa, “That’s the girl Rob was doing on the produce.”
Ulyssa leaned back to have a look and said, “Dang. She looks tough. I’m glad I don’t buy fruit at Wal-Mart.”
Tamera was checking herself out in a compact mirror and teasing her dyed red hair. Her bangs were tightly rolled into a single downward facing curl that reminded me of Whitesnake’s lead singer during the early 80’s. Her makeup was a weird orange shade that looked like it was part of the Oompa Loompa color palate. She was wearing a tight fitting tank top that showed at least four tattoos. I could make out the rose and butterfly on her chest, but I wasn’t sure about the other ones. Here we stood looking like a couple of cream puffs bundled in plus size fuzzy sweaters with no skin art. While Tamera looked like the type of tough girl you’d expect to be an assassin.
Yet we’d already tried to kill a man once.
The irony of the stereotype stunned me as I turned back to the movie selection, scanning for the perfect training video.
“Oh. This is a good one,” I said, waving the Bourne Supremacy at her.
“Wasn’t most of the killing done in hand-to-hand combat?”
“True, but after the way you beat up that guy at the festival, maybe it’s the way to go,” I picked at her.
She ignored me and held up another movie asking, “Kill Bill?”
“That was mainly swords and knives. We’ve been down that road,” I warned her.
“The Professional? Definitely.”
“The Matrix?”
“Can you dodge bullets?”
“No. But I can dodge antlers!” I retorted, grabbing a movie off the top shelf. “Scarface! I’ve never seen it, but all the guys love it and all the pictures of Al Pacino have him holding giant guns. Or was it the Godfather? I can’t remember. But they don’t have the Godfather, so we’ll try this one.”
We laid our movies on the counter and waited on Tamera to finished primping. She put her mirror away with an eye roll. “Welcome to Vide-o-rama. Did you find everything you were looking for today?” she asked, in a monotone voice as she scanned the movies. She must have still been mad about me outing her and Rob because she snubbed me when I responded. She turned around to grab a bag for the movies and I saw a tramp stamp tattoo on her lower back. It was two pistols with crossed barrels with the word Salvo stretched across a banner at the bottom.
I nudged Ulyssa and she was still staring when Tamera turned back around.
“That’s a cool tat, Tamera! When did you get it? Did it hurt?” Ulyssa asked.
Tamera loosened up at the compliment. “Nah. It didn’t hurt. It was my eighth one, so I wuz kinda used to the pain. I got that one two years ago when I was dating Salvo and ain’t had enough money to have his name removed yet. Plus it kinda pisses off Rob every time he has to read Salvo’s name when we’re getting it on. It makes him good and jealous. I reckon I’ll keep it til he gets jealous enough to marry me. Know what I mean?” she asked, giving us a knowing wink.
“Well I think y’all make a great couple,” I offered, “I bet it won’t be long and he’ll be dragging you down the aisle.”
She smiled. “Well, bless your heart! I hope so. He’s a helluva lot better than my other boyfriends. Salvo was the worst. He almost killed me once. It was an accident mind you, but he scared the hell outta me.”
“Oh, no. What happened?” Ulyssa asked.
“He was trying to show me how to shoot a pistol, so I could protect myself when he wasn’t around. We were practicing outside and he told me to pick a target and pull the trigger. Well, I did. The problem is... he didn’t tell me not to aim at anything solid. I learned all about ricochets that day. I tried to shoot the side of an old concrete building near the woods. The bullet ricocheted and clipped me in the arm.” She turned to the right and showed us her muscled bicep. There was a small jagged scar surrounded by angels.
“I had these angels tattooed around the scar to remind myself that Jesus was looking out for me that day. Salvo was real sorry about the shooting, but we didn’t last much longer after that. A few months later, he met Emma and they’ve been together ever since. They’re perfect for each other. I hope me and Rob can be as happy as them one day,” she said, with a longing on her face and watery eyes. “Well, it’s been nice talking to y’all. I should get back to work. Have good one.” We told her goodbye and stepped outside to store onto the strip mall sidewalk.
The black town car was parked outside the video store in a handicap spot with a blue handicap pass hanging from the rearview mirror.
How did THEY get a handicap parking pass?
We stepped off the curb and strode towards their car locked in a glaring contest with them. Tires screeched and I felt the breath knocked out of me. The movies flew out of the bag as I careened to the ground. A white Crown Victoria bumper stopped just above head. I closed my eyes and willed myself not to pee my pants.
“Shasta! Shasta!” Ulyssa screamed.
“Calm down. You’re not helping the situation,” a soothing male voice ordered her.
Pheromones overwhelmed my senses at the warm cheek close to my mouth.
“She’s breathing. I think she’ll be okay,” he told the bystanders.
“Shasta,” he whispered to me. “Shasta. I need you to open your eyes for me.”
My eyelashes fluttered open.
Deputy Hodde was leaning over my body with his face inches from mine.
“I thought I was going to pee my pants,” I informed him.
He leaned closer smiling and whispered, “I have that effect on women.” He started running his hands over my legs. “Can you feel this?”
I blushed red.
“I’ll take that as a yes. How about this?” He ran his hands down my arms and over my hands.
I blushed purple.
“Okay. It looks like you’re okay. No paralysis. You’ll probably have some bruising. I’d recommend some ice on the impact area and Tylenol for the pain,” he said, extending his hand to help me up. This was becoming the norm for all of our encounters.
“Oh. Thank God! You’re okay!” Ulyssa exclaimed, hugging the breath outta me.
Feeling slightly off kilter, I scanned the parking lot. “Where’s the goons?”
“Ssshh. Eric will hear you.” She looked nervously toward Eric who was busy shoo’ing gawkers away. “They took off when you got hit.”
Eric walked over to his police car, grabbed something and walked back over to us. He handed us brochures on looking both ways before crossing a street.
“Haha, funny guy. Don’t you know that pedestrians always have the right of way! You’re just lucky we’re not suing the Police Department since YOU hit us!” she joked with him.
“I didn’t hit you. I hit Shasta,” he retorted, as he started picking up our movies. “The Professional and Scarface, huh? Looks like it’s a action movie night. You know what they say about violent movies... I hope these don’t turn y’all to the dark side,” he said, winking at me.
Ulyssa burped loudly. She does that when she’s really stres
sed.
“You okay there?” he asked, patting her on the back. “Too much excitement for the day, huh?” He put the movies back into the bag. “You know, if you want a really good action movie, you should check out Boondock Saints. Have you seen it?”
We shook our heads.
“No? Well, it’s a great movie about these two guys who are trying to kill off mobsters.”
We gasped for air.
“No, it’s not like that. These guys are really likable and they keep messing things up so it’s kinda funny.”
“How does it end?” I asked.
“You tell me?”
Ulyssa and I just stared at each other.
He laughed at our shock. “I don’t want to ruin the movie for you. You’ll have to watch it. I don’t think they have it at the video store, but I have a copy. I could bring it by later, if you want?”
We both released a sigh of relief. “Yeah, that would be great! We’ll just be chilling at home tonight, so stop by whenever.”
“Sounds good. I gotta get over to Wal-Mart. There’s a disgruntled customer stalking one of the associates around the store.”
“Oh no!” I interrupted, worried about Mitsy and Sam. “Who is it?”
“I’m not supposed to divulge information about 911 calls.”
I grabbed my hip. “Owww-lawsuit-wwww.”
He laughed, “Ok ok. I’ll tell you that it involves Sam and George Dilford.”
“Hahahaaa. You need to be more worried about George. Sam can take care of herself,” I said, “Anyone dumb enough to mess with her gets what they deserve. She went on a date one time with a guy who tried to make her ‘put-out-or-get-out’.”
“Well, after she finished beating the fire outta him. She got out and stomped down dark, muddy Coal Ridge Mountain all the way back to town. She never had to tell us who the guy was cause he was walking around with a busted up lip and black eye for the next week. Musta been like being locked up with a pissed off bobcat. Anyway, that’s why she don’t date too much now. Most guys are afraid of her.”
Eric’s deep chuckle gave me goosebumps. “I don’t think Minnie called it in because she was worried about Sam’s well being. I think she was more worried that George would sue Wal-Mart if Sam hit him while he was in the store. I’m not sure why, but she’s sure been sensitive about lawsuits the past couple weeks.”
Ulyssa gave me a mischievous look, adding, “I think I know why!”
“Really? Why?” he asked her.
“No reason. We gotta go. Busy, busy.” I shoved Ulyssa toward the truck using my good hip.
“Ok. I’ll see y’all later. I’m really sorry about hitting you Shasta! I hope you feel better!” he said, hopping back in the car and driving the length of the strip mall into the Wal-Mart parking lot.
“Do you mind driving? I’m having issues with my right leg.” I said, limping around to the passenger side.
She hopped in the driver’s seat. “Woohoo. Somebody has got a date with Deputy Hottie!! Bow-chic-a-wow-wow!”
“It’s not a date! He’s a cop and I’m on the wrong side of the law now, so it’ll never work between us. I’m already feeling guilty enough about borrowing his movie.”
“Why do you feel guilty about that?”
“He might get arrested for being an accessory if we get caught. All they would have to do is trace the evidence back to the movie he loaned us for assassin training. Bottom line, he helped us become better criminals. No jury will let him off lightly. He’d get 1-2 years minimum. And you know what happens to cops who get put in jail! I like him too much to do that too him. So, I’ll just have to keep liking him from afar.” God, I was starting to sound like a Lifetime Movie.
“Seriously? Where do you come up with this stuff? I think you need some sleep. You’re getting too wierd!” She grabbed a couple Tylenol PM tablets from her purse and handed them to me. “Take these. They’ll help your hip and make you sleep. You can nap while I grab the groceries at Piggly Wiggly.”
I grabbed the pills and tossed them in my mouth. I reclined the seat and let the comfortable vibration of the tires on the road sooth me to sleep. It was dark outside when I woke up shivering. Ulyssa had left the window cracked. I guess she didn’t realize that was only required to protect pets on hot, summer days. I grabbed an old jacket from the back seat and laid it over my head to create a cocoon. I had started gently dozing again when I heard Ulyssa talking outside the Sidekick.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been over for Sunday dinner in two weeks. We’ve been busy.”
I recognized the next voice immediately. Ulyssa’s mom had a way of infusing Catholic guilt into every conversation. “Too busy for your mother! I don’t understand. Didn’t we raise you right? Why you no wanna spend time with a your family? I pray to Saint Rita, the Patron Saint of Loneliness, and I beg her for my daughter to come see me. I don’t a think she hears my prayers cause you still don’a come see me.” When Ulyssa’s mom kicked into guilt overdrive she always overemphasized her Italian accent and started talking about saints. It always worked. If she was in Star Wars, she would have been Darth Guilt. The force was strong with her and resistance was futile.
“Enough with the guilt mom! Shasta and I will come by this Sunday for dinner!”
“Oh, blessed Saint Rita! Thank you! You have heard my prayers. Give your momma a hug!”
Ulyssa grunted as her mom squeezed her in a bear hug. “Okay, mom. I gotta go now. Shasta’s in the truck and I gotta get her home. She’s got a big date tonight.”
The driver side door creaked open and I tried to hide under the jacket. There was no way I could face Darth Guilt knowing that we were trying to commit murder. I’d want to confess everything and then ask for some of her famous calzones, but Ulyssa wasn’t letting me get out of this unscathed.
“Shasta! Shasta! Mom’s here. She wants to say hi!”
I pulled the jacket off my head and felt the cold air rush onto my face. “Hello, Mrs. Grant. How are you?”
“I’m good now that my girl says you’re agonna come visit me on Sunday.” She gave me a big smile. “I make my special Calzones for you. You girls are too skinny,” she said leaning over to give my waist a hard pinch for emphasis.
“Ok. I go now. I hear you gotta hot date tonight. There’s no patron saint of STDs. I cannot pray for you so I think it’s better you abstain.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re good girls!” she said, patting Ulyssa on the cheek. “I see you on Sunday.”
“Bye, mom!” Ulyssa finished, dumping the groceries in the back seat before hopping into the driver’s seat. As soon as she started the truck I turned the heater up to full blast.
“You about froze me to death,” I said through chattering teeth, “And thanks for telling your mom about my make-believe date with Eric.”
She grinned at me. “That’s known as Catholic self-defense. I deflected her guilt to you so she’d leave me alone. You learn that your first year in Catholic school.”
“Ha!” I snorted. “You only went to Catholic school for one year!” I retorted, intentionally provoking her, to tell me the story again.
She was the only student to ever be expelled from St. Anthony’s Catholic School in Charleston. She’d been kicked out for knocking out a nun during a game of kickball. This is one of my favorite Ulyssa stories.
“Hey. It wasn’t my fault! Mother Rachel shouldn’t have been on the field if she couldn’t move! And she certainly shouldn’t have been pitching the game wearing her full habit!”
I raised my eyebrows at her.
“I just wanted to kick the ball out of the park so we would win. I thought if I won the game for us, I wouldn’t get picked last anymore. So, I channeled all my fat rage and got a running start at the plastic, red ball. I gave it a solid kick and it had the speed, but not the height to clear the fence. If she would have ducked it wouldn’t have smacked her square in the face. But it WAS funny when it knocked her out and Father Patrick
ran across the field yelling ‘Nun down! Nun down!’.”
I started laughing.
“I still don’t understand why the other nuns made us all stand in a line until Mother Rachel had been driven off in the ambulance. Maybe they thought I’d feel bad after I saw her loaded onto the gurney and driven off the field with the lights and sirens blazing. It didn’t bother me one bit though. She was the meanest nun there and taking her down with a kickball made me a temporary hero among my classmates. I think that’s the real reason they expelled me. They were worried that if I stayed there, I’d lead the class into some large scale religious revolt by high school. Maybe even spreading it across Charleston into a full scale crusade,” she paused, shaking her head. “All that drama because I didn’t want to be picked last at kickball. Hey, if I hadn’t gotten kicked out, we probably wouldn’t be friends right now.”
“Or conspiring together to commit murder,” I added, as we pulled into the driveway. Thankfully, there was no sign of the goons.
She grabbed the grocery bags, while I speed wobbled to the bathroom. A giant greenish, purple welt was forming from my hip to knee. Great. I wouldn’t be wearing a skirt out this weekend. I fluffed my hair, gargled some mouthwash and applied some strawberry lip gloss. I sniffed my armpits and decided to put on another layer of deodorant.
“Want some popcorn for the movies?”
“Oooohhh. Yeah. I’m starving. Do we have any plain M&Ms? I’m feeling a salty-sweet mood coming on,” I warned, laying down on the couch, bruised hip up.
“I grabbed some at the store. I’m feeling a salty-sweet mood coming on too.” We usually stocked the house with sweet and salty food once a month for those special cravings. Popcorn and plain M&Ms. Chocolate ice cream and salted walnuts. Salted Watermelon. The list goes on and on.
Fat Assassins (The Fat Adventure Series) Page 12
