Rita Lakin_Gladdy Gold_01 (21 page)

37

Stuck in the Minimall

B
y now we have quite a crowd
of kibitzers around us. Testimony to boring lives, that everyone in the
Hollywood minimall has stopped whatever they were doing to witness
these little old ladies' embarrassment at being locked out of their
car. I am not embarrassed, I am livid. With passersby either jeering
catcalls or giving us bad advice, the scene is only adding to my
aggravation.

Advice like get a piece of gum and stick it on a stick
and drop it down the window. Gum, hard to come by in a group heavily
into dentures. A stick, equally hard to find in a concrete shopping
area. And the so-called window opening? Merely a sliver of air space.

A reedy voice calls out to us, "How come you don't carry
an extra key? I do."

"Gimme permission to smack her," Ida says under her
breath.

The girls hover close to me, waving their hands
helplessly.

"But how do you know it's Denny?" Bella whispers behind
my head. The girls can't get over the bombshell I threw at them. I
can't get over that we are trapped here in this stupid minimall.

"Remember how Maureen died?" I answer, unable to hide my
irritation at them.

"Maureen?" Sophie asks, befuddled. "She's been dead,
what--six, seven years? What's she got to do with this?"

"Maybe everything."

I have sent Evvie back to the theater to call the auto
club. I'm waiting anxiously for her to report back.

Everyone's favorite suggestion is to get a hanger, bend
it and push it through. So where do we get a hanger at this time of
night? I gaze longingly at Betty's Better Dresses, which is five feet
from where I'm standing, and count all the hangers through the locked
store windows.

I am desperately trying to control my temper, impatience,
and anxiety, but I'm not doing too well.

"I knew we shoulda listened to Hy. He told us to get a
car phone," Sophie says, hitting me on my back. "Single women need a
car phone to be safe."

"And where would the car phone be right now?" I say
icily. "In the
locked car,
that's where!"

"Then we shoulda got a cell phone," Bella whines. "But
no, you have to hate progress. And besides, my feet are hurting."

Evvie returns, looking dejected. "Auto Club said
forty-five minutes, give or take."

"Then maybe we should call a policeman," says Bella.

"Yeah," Ida says bitterly, "I can just hear us on the
nine-one-one. Emergency. Send a cop quick. Tell him to bring a hanger."

Bella continues worriedly, "Maureen died of a heart
attack, didn't she?"

"But don't you remember," I say, "she was eating a piece
of steak and they thought maybe she choked on it?"

"So?"

"God. I can't believe we didn't remember this before.
Food. Isn't this all about food?"

And another, "So?" This from Ida.

But Sophie is finally starting to get it. "Wait a minute
. . . she was holding the phone when they found her.
Oy vay!"

"Do you remember the date?"

"Who can remember that far back?" Bella says.

"I don't mean the actual date. I mean the event."

Evvie makes the connection. "Oh, my God, it was the night
before her birthday!"

"Yes! I'm so stupid! Why didn't I remember?"

"Cause your memory is shot, that's why," adds Evvie
helpfully.

Every minute that passes frightens me. I need to know
what's happening back at Lanai Gardens!

38

No Way to Treat a Mother

D
enny stands in the
middle
of the living room, unable to catch his breath.

No matter how hard he tries not to look at it, he
can't help himself. Slowly, he turns to face his mother's portrait. He
feels her eyes following him everywhere. He wants to get out of there,
but he can't get his feet to move. It's like those dreams he has when
his mother is chasing him with the clothesline that she used to use to
tie him to his bed. His feet would go numb and she would always catch
him and do all those terrible things to him.

The phone rings. Denny jumps, terrified. Sweating
freely now, he stares at the phone hypnotically. Stop ringing, he begs.
Make it stop ringing. He puts his hands over his ears but he can still
hear the ringing. Save me, he mutters under his breath. Someone save
me. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, he answers.

"Hello . . ." He is shaking so hard he can barely
stand. "But it's not ten o'clock. . . ."

"I know I'm a bad boy. . . . I know. . . ."

"In the kitchen? When did you put them there?"

"Please, no, don't make me . . ."

"I can't. . . . I can't. . . ."

"Yes, Mama. Right now."

Denny hangs the phone up and walks into the kitchen
where a small basket, prettily decorated with a lace cloth, sits there
just where she said it would be. And right next to it are his keys, the
ones he lost.

Slowly, sickly, he moves back into the living room.
He can feel his anger and his impotence rising up in him like bile in
his throat. His hand reaches for his toolbox nearby. He opens it and
grabs for a screwdriver. In rage he leaps for the portrait and gouges
out his mother's face. "No more . . . no more . . ." he sobs.

39

Death by Poppy Seed

I
keep looking at my watch as
if that will make any difference. The cab we called still hasn't
arrived. Neither has the auto club. By now we've lost our audience, and
the minimall is nearly deserted. The girls are huddled in a doorway,
shivering in the cool night air.

I am beside myself. There is still no answer at the
Feders, only the same busy signal. Why can't I reach Harriet? Something
is very wrong.

I've called Irving. No answer. He is already asleep,
early as usual. With the phone locked away from Millie. I tried Tessie.
Not home. I better call Hy . . .

A trio of teenagers walk by. They clank from all the
metallic piercings they have hanging from various body parts. Their
boom box is booming some ugly-sounding rap.

"Hey, old ladies," one of them calls sarcastically,
"waitin' for some action?"

They are very big and scary, but I am at my wit's end.
"Yes," I say, ignoring the innuendo. "Do you know how to break into a
car?"

"Are you crazy?" Ida shrieks.

"No, desperate," I tell her.

The boys stop, amused. You can see it in their faces.
This ought to be fun. "It'll cost ya," says a huge lump of lard with
black and white zebra stripes painted across his bald head.

"How much?" I ask, trying to keep cool while my legs are
shaking.

Ida hides behind me. "Don't talk to them. Maybe they'll
go away."

"Twenty large," the purple-haired one says, sneering.

I attempt a sneer myself. "How about five small?"

The girls are gasping, all of them now crowding behind me.

Zebra Stripes erupts into laughter.

What few people are still around quickly move as far away
as they can.

Bella tugs at me, terrified. "Tell them we don't need
them," she whimpers.

I shrug her off. "But we do."

The third one, with dreadlocks and a lime green crocheted
skullcap, walks over and surveys the car with a most professional air.
I think he's the leader. "Give the ladies a senior discount, Horse," he
says, and that starts another outburst of hilarity.

"Fifteen," says Purple Hair, aka Horse.

"Shame on you," says Dreadlocks. "Ain't you got no old
grandma?"

With that, he whips out a very thin strip of metal and
instantly snakes it through the narrow window opening. Within two
seconds I hear the door locks unlatch. And just as fast, the metal is
back in his pocket and his hand is outstretched. Even though my own
hands are shaking, I get a ten and a five out of my wallet and hand it
to him.

They walk off, laughing. "You are one hella hip granny,"
Dreadlocks calls back.

"Thanks for your help," I answer as I notice both the
taxi and the auto club driving into the minimall.

Bella waves her little fingers at the boys and gaily
calls out, "Thanks for not killing us."

As he walks out the door and starts to cross the
parking
area, Denny can smell the sweetness of the poppy-seed rolls he carries.

At Esther's door, he stops. He opens it with his
master key and walks inside.

The nighttime silence at Lanai Gardens is abruptly
shattered by agonizing screams. Doors and windows are flung open or, in
most cases, cautiously cracked, and faces peer out. The braver ones
come out and lean over the balconies to see what's happening.

Esther Feder is running, falling, then crawling down
the middle of the street. Esther can walk!? is the first shocked
response. But what's wrong with her? She is gagging, clutching her
stomach and grabbing onto cars for support.

"Help me," she cries.

Half walking, half running behind her is Denny,
crying. And oddly, he seems to be carrying a basket of rolls.

She falls down as her legs no longer support her.

"Poison," she screams as Denny reaches her. "Denny .
. . you . . . ? Why, why?"

He stands over her helplessly, sobbing now. "She
made
me do it," he says as he drops to his knees beside her.

"I am a dead woman," Esther Feder cries and then
falls silent as paralysis sets in and she can no longer move. Only her
eyes stare in horror at Denny as her life slowly drains from her body.

And it is just at that moment that the girls and I
arrive home.