Queen of the Trailer Park (Rosie Maldonne's World Book 1) (16 page)

45

The guy still seemed sure of himself.

“Get those two shit-bags to shut it! I can’t stand it! My ears are killing me. I can’t hear myself think!”

“Oh? Because that sometimes happens, does it? You think?” I said. “First off, why did you smash up my trailer, huh? What did it ever do to you?”

“I’m the one asking the questions around here, got it? You answer them. And that’s the end of it.”

They’d really started to piss me off. “Now look, guys, you’re getting to me now,” I said as I stood with some effort. I wasn’t going to wallow in the mud while they hovered above me, strutting back and forth. I put my heels back on and vaguely neatened up my hair. I began fumbling around in the bottom of my purse.

“Don’t worry,” I told them. “I don’t have a gun. I’m looking for my phone.”

“What do you want with your phone?”

“I’m going to make a call.”

“You can’t do that. We’re not going to let you use that phone. Are you fucking with us or what?”

“OK. Calm down,” I said, poking my tongue out at him.

But I’d secretly dialed the emergency services without them noticing.

As I imagined my call making its way through the telephone network in the valley below us, I leaned over toward the twins to comfort them. I needed them to think they were safe.

“There, there . . . Everything’s all right, my babies. They’re just playing Punch and Judy. Don’t be scared.”

Emma stuttered, “Bu ere wed cur’in, Mo?”

Translation:
But where’s the red curtain, Mom?
You can never get anything past Emma. She’d only seen a Punch and Judy show once, but she knew there was supposed to be a red curtain. Have I forgotten to mention that my Emma is as bright as a button?

“They forgot to bring it, my cherub. You know what Punch is like. He’s always messing up. He forgets everything!”

Sabrina came out of hiding, yelling, “Where’th Punch? I want to thee him too!”

“Hey! Is she talking about me?” Dopey asked.

“Why? Feeling the pressure?”

He mumbled that I was a real pain in the ass. I’d heard him, but I asked, “What was that you said? If you go around muttering like that, no one will ever catch a word.”

He screamed, “You’re a total pain in my ass! Give me that phone of yours!”

“Mom!” said Sabrina. “Bwoomthtick Dopey keepth uthing bad wordth!”

“Is she talking about me?” asked Dopey again.

He was a scratched record, that one.

I mouthed to the two meatheads to shut it for two minutes, and I stuck my ear to the phone, trying to keep some distance between us. Someone had picked up at the other end.

I spoke as quickly as I could. Dumbo was closing in on me. “I’m Rose Maldonne. I’m with my children at the old mill ruins just before the Chapelle-Saint-Jean . . . Yes, I’m in danger . . . Two men, all suited and booted, are attacking us. They’re standing in front of me and one of them has a gun. They’re not doing anything right now. They’re not all that bright, but it won’t take them long.”

Dumbo closed the distance, smacked me, and sent my phone flying into the grass. I yelled in the hope that whoever was on the other end of the line could still hear me. “They work for city hall! I know who they are!”

Dopey was enraged—he fired a shot into the air and yelled, “Now you’re going to shut your mouth! You want us to pop one of your kids? What do we have to do to get you to shut your stupid fucking mouth?”

“Mom, he’th thtill curthing. Tell him, Mom.”

“That’s enough now, OK?” I said, my voice rising with each word. “Don’t even bother thinking you’re scaring me. You’re not. Do you honestly think you can just hijack an innocent mother and her kids and shoot them all?”

“Shut your—”

“Shut your own mouth! You don’t get to tell me what to do! In fact, I’ll be the one asking the questions.”

“No, that’s us.”

“No, it’s me.”

“Us.”

“OK, it’s you.”

“Really, and why’s that?”

“Because I’m bored of saying the same thing over and over again.”

“That’s not why.”

“Why is it, then?”

“Because I’m the one holding the gun.”

“And why should that bother me?”

“It’s just the way it is. The guy with the gun gets to be in charge.”

“No,” said Sabrina. “I’m in chawge. I’m in chawge of the whole wowld.”

Sabrina has a thing about authority. No idea where she gets that from.

46

Simon giggled to himself a bit further away. “Punch show very funny.”

“It’s not Punch, it’s Dopey and Dumbo, the two broomsticks.”

“No cur’in! Punch ’ere cur’in?” cried Emma.

It looked like the nippers were having an awesome Sunday. Even Lisa had stopped crying and was looking at us all with a cheeky smile on her face.

“Go ahead, then. Are you going to ask your question?”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Why do you want me to ask it?”

I rolled my eyes again. “Sweet Jesus. We’re not getting anywhere here. You like to make things complicated, don’t you?

“Because we’re idiots, right?”

“OK, let’s just drop it. What’s your question?”

“I know what game you’re playing. You stupid fucking bitch!”

“So, what’s my game, then?”

“You think you’ll get us to hang out for awhile, so that whoever you just called will roll up here and catch us in the act.”

“Nice one, Marco! You sure know what you’re doing!” said Dumbo. You could tell he looked up to Dopey.

“Seems logical to me, that’s all,” replied Marco/Dopey.

“Except that’s not actually my reason,” I said.

“OK,” Dumbo said. “Just to show you we’re not bothered by your antics, we’ll stay here awhile and you’ll answer the question. But first, go ahead and tell us your real reason, if you’re so smart.” He nodded over to Dopey. He was clearly hoping Dopey liked his style.

“I’m curious, that’s all,” I said. “Also, when the cops show up, I’ll be able to tell them why you attacked me.”

“What cops?”

“The ones I called.”

“You didn’t call anybody. You sure didn’t call any cops. You just wanted us to believe you did.”

“Wanna bet?”

There was a long silence, and he asked solemnly, “What did you do with the envelopes you found in the trash can?”

“Envelopes in
a
trash can or in
some
trash cans? Because if you’re going to question me, I’d like to make sure the questions are precise. I don’t want to end up being thrown off the Bridge of Death for giving the wrong answer.”

“Thrown off what?”

“The Bridge of Death.”

“What bridge? There’s no bridge.”

I asked, “Have you never heard of Monty Python? You don’t know them?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I felt sorry for the guy.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s a movie, that’s all.”

“What movie? What does this have to do with the envelopes?”

“Just forget it. It’s ridiculous.” A little smile crept across my face as I thought of the absurdity of the situation.

But they were upset. “Hey! Stop fucking around! What’s this about a movie?”

“Look, I told you it doesn’t matter. It’s just a silly thing about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. They have to cross a ravine over the Bridge of Death. There’s this crusty old guy who guards the bridge and asks them questions. If they get the wrong answer or hesitate, they get thrown off the bridge into hell. That’s all.”

“So what happens?”

“Well, the first knight gets asked really simple questions, like what’s your name, or how old are you, or something. He answers right away and gets let across the bridge. Easy.”

They looked at me suspiciously, trying to figure out what I was up to. “Then what happens?”

“The second knight gets asked what his favorite color is. He hesitates between blue and red, and so he gets thrown off the bridge.”

“That story really fucking sucks.”

“Curthing again,” said Sabrina.

“But wait, it’s not finished. It’s the end part that’s really funny.” I almost laughed. “When it comes to King Arthur’s turn, the old man asks him a really hard question about birds, something like, ‘What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?’ And Arthur answers back with a question: ‘What do you mean? An African or European swallow?’ The old guy has no clue and says, ‘Huh? I . . . I don’t know that.’ And whoosh! He flies up into the air and gets thrown off the bridge!”

I doubled over in laughter, and Sabrina and Simon couldn’t help but join in. They rolled around in the grass.

Sabrina loves it when I tell jokes. Especially because I usually forget the endings. But today, I’d managed to tell the whole story for once.

And Simon, as usual, was just copying Sabrina.

47

After a while, Sabrina stopped laughing.

“That’th a wiot, Mom!”

“I don’t think it’s the slightest bit funny,” said Dopey/Marco.

“Yeth it ith! It’th a hoot!” said Sabrina.

“OK. Let me put a stop to all this now. Listen, if I were you guys, I wouldn’t be dallying around like this. The cops won’t be long. It’s been almost a half hour since I called them. I don’t want to rush you, but . . .”

“But you never answered our question.”

“All right, I’ll give you an answer—but first, I have a question for you.”

Dopey rolled his eyes. “What now?”

“How did you know about the envelopes?”

“You sure have a loose connection up top, don’t you? Do you really think we’d just leave a shit-ton of money lying around unattended? We were there! We saw you!”

That stopped me. They knew I’d taken the dough from the trash all this time? So why hadn’t they come after me sooner? Either they weren’t sure I’d taken it . . . but then, they must have checked the trash cans . . . or maybe they thought I’d been sent to collect the envelopes by whoever they were meant for. Maybe they even admired the clever front: a woman with a load of little kids.

He could see I was lost in thought. He had no clue what I planned to do next.

“You’re not going to try to deny you took the envelopes, are you?”

“Fine, you win! I took them! So, the answer to your questions is . . . yes.”

“Yes? How’s that?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I found the envelopes! But not in
a
trash can,
several
trash cans.”

“Why did you say yes three times like that? What are you scheming now?”

“Nothing! What is your problem? You told me yourself you’d seen me take them! If you or your bosses didn’t strongly suspect I had them, you wouldn’t be here asking me all these questions now, would you? And if I’d answered no, you’d know I was lying. So, boys, there are really no two ways about it, are there?
Yes.
Now, let me go back to my picnic basket, OK?”

“Is she playing with us or something?” asked Dumbo.

“Just shut your stupid face!” replied Dopey. He thought it over for a second. I could see it all slowly adding up behind his eyes. He realized he was none the wiser: he hadn’t learned anything he didn’t already know.

“Wait up! We already knew that. What we want to know is, what did you do with all the loot? Do you know what was in those envelopes?”

“Cash. A hundred big ones.”

“Not exactly.”

“Yes exactly.”

“Fine. But it wasn’t
just
cash.”

“That’s all I saw.”

“So that’s the way you’re playing this, is it?”

I was confused, but I carried on anyway. “If you like. So, what are we doing now?”

“We want the money.”

“I don’t have it with me.”

Dopey snickered. “You really take us for a couple of idiots, don’t you? So, how do you propose we go about getting back what’s ours?”

“Let me think.”

“Oh? Because that sometimes happens, does it?” he asked sarcastically, getting me back from earlier.

I gave him a fake smile. “Very funny. Fine. This is what I think we should do. You go and tell whoever’s in charge that I can pay him back at fifty a month for the next two hundred and fifty years. I can’t do any more than that. I’m on welfare. I have kids to feed.”

“Why won’t you just give the money back?”

“Because I’ve spent every last coin, lowlife. Otherwise, I’d totally give it back, wouldn’t I? I don’t want the Mafia on my back.”

“What’s this about the Mafia?”

“Everyone who’s anyone knows you’re part of the Mafia and that the Mafia wants to build a casino and that you bribed the mayor. What nobody knows yet is that it was me who found all the cash.”

“I don’t believe you spent it all.”

“You believe what you like.”

“How did you do it so fast?”

“I went to a casino. Thought I could double my money. I figured I’d return the original bundle to whoever it belonged to and keep the same amount for myself.”

“You’re really up shit creek now, you silly bitch! Didn’t you know that nobody ever beats the casino? And that nobody ever beats the Mafia either?”

“Spare me the lecture. It’s too late.”

“And what about the rest of the stuff? What did you do with that?”

What was he talking about? Maybe there was some coke or something in with the cash and I hadn’t noticed. I answered with another question.

“So, seeing as you saw me do it, why didn’t you come work me over before now?”

“You do have a brain, don’t you? Why do you think? We thought you’d take the package to its rightful owner. We were waiting for our orders. Then we lost track of you, so we had to hunt you down, find out who you were. We’ve been looking for you ever since—and it turns out we’re pretty good at it. We also wanted to make sure we found you when you were on your own with the brats. And here we are.”

He was oh-so-pleased with himself.

“Hey, Marco, let’s get out of here.” said Dumbo. “The clock is ticking!”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since you got here,” I called over to Dumbo.

“Shut your mouth! Who was talking to you?”

Dopey looked at me suddenly. He seemed confused. “Why do you want us to leave? I thought you were trying to get us to stay until your friends arrived?”

“Because I have other plans. I don’t want to talk about the money with anyone else until Tuesday.”

“Why Tuesday?”

“I have my reasons.”

“I’d advise you not to mess with us!”

“Mommy, I’m hungwy.”

I went ahead and spread out our picnic blanket by the side of the river. Marco and Dumbo looked at me in amazement. They couldn’t believe I was getting on with my life as if they weren’t there.

“Hey, guys, it’s not that I’m getting bored with your company, it’s just that these twins need changing. By the smell of them, something’s happened.”

“Mom, can I get the thandwicheth out?” Sabrina asked.

“Yes, my darling. Look in my purse.”

As I got to changing the babies, I heard the creaking of twigs, and when I turned my head, the two meatheads were out of there.

Good riddance.