Takedown Twenty(24)

“B-15.”

“Say what?”

“You’ve got a bunch of B-15s,” Grandma said to Lula. “I can see them from here.”

“B-2.”

“Hey!” Lula yelled to Marion. “You got some better place to go that you gotta rush us through our Bingo game?”

The game came to a screeching halt and everyone turned to look at us.

“Lula’s new at this,” Grandma announced to the room. “She hasn’t got the hang of it yet.”

Across the table and two chairs down, Mildred Frick narrowed her eyes at Lula. “Amateur,” she said on a hiss of air.

Lula glared back. “Who you calling a amateur? You got a lot of nerve calling someone a amateur when you don’t even know them.”

“You have a lot of nerve sitting there with thirty cards when you’re not capable of playing them,” Mildred said to Lula. “Clearly you’re too dumb to manage thirty cards. It’s an insult to the rest of the room that you would even try. You’re a dumb bunny.”

“Well, you’re a ugly old hag,” Lula said. “And I find your choice of accessories to be a insult. You got a handbag hanging on the back of your chair that I wouldn’t be caught dead in.”

Mildred was at least eighty years old. She was five feet tall. And she had a spray tan that made her look mummified. She jumped to her feet and leaned across the table at Lula. “You take back what you said about my handbag.”

“Will not,” Lula said.

Mildred shook her blue-veined bony fist at Lula. “I’ll make you take it back, you dumb bunny.”

“Oh yeah?” Lula said. “You want a piece of me? Come get it.”

Mildred got one foot up on her chair and launched herself across the table at Lula. Bingo cards went flying, the chair tipped over and crashed to the floor, and Mildred tried to claw her way to Lula while the women on either side of her grabbed hold of her feet and tried to haul her back.

“Holy bejeezus,” Lula said.

Marion Wenger pulled her .45 out of her purse and fired one off at the ceiling. A big chunk of ceiling fell down and everyone looked over at her.

“Let’s have some decorum here,” Marion said. “This is a Bingo game, not a WWE match.”

“Too bad,” Grandma said. “I wouldn’t mind being at a WWE match. I like when those big men get naked except for them little baggies over their privates.”

“Boy,” Lula said, “that Mildred is a scary old lady.”

“Yep,” Grandma said. “She’s a nasty one.”

“I heard that,” Mildred said. “At least I’m not a slut.”

Lula went indignant. “Are you implying that Granny is a slut?”

“I do get around a little bit,” Grandma said to Lula.

“You should leave,” Mildred said to Lula. “We don’t want your kind here.”

Lula leaned forward in rhino mode. “And just exactly what is my kind?”

“You’re a dumb bunny,” Mildred said.

“Well, I don’t want to play no more anyways,” Lula said. “And I want my money back, because this game isn’t run right.”

We left the Senior Center, piled into Lula’s car, and sat there for a moment.

“I kind of like being a slut,” Grandma said. “It beats the heck out of being an old lady.”

“Now what?” Lula asked. “Are we going home now?”

“I’d like to check on Uncle Sunny,” I said. “I want to see if he’s in Hamilton Township.”

“I’m on it,” Lula said. “I’m in a mood to kick some butt.”

“I wasn’t thinking of kicking butt tonight,” I said. “I mostly wanted to confirm that Sunny spends his nights with Rita. And that Tweedledum and Tweedledee don’t stand watch.”

Lula found Rita’s street and drove by her house. Lights were on in the front room. No car in the driveway. No thugs hanging out on the front porch. Lula made a U-turn and parked across the street.

“Stay here,” I said to Lula and Grandma. “I’m going to take a quick look around the house.”

I crossed the street and quietly ran to the side of the house that was shadowed by a large maple tree. I crept up to a window and peeked in at the dining room. The room was dark, but I could see light spilling out of the living room and I could hear television noise. I worked my way around to the back of the house, looking in windows, mentally cataloging the interior. I turned a corner and saw Grandma and Lula with their noses pressed against Rita’s kitchen window.

“I told you to stay in the car!” I stage-whispered.