by Rita Lakin
Aha! The only male in the entire condominium staying home is that pesky curmudgeon Hy Binder. His excuse? He’s afraid of big animals. And he doesn’t like sleeping in tents. Hates eating outdoors. He’s got a long list of afraids, hates and don’t-likes. Truth is – and he’ll never admit it – he’s too cheap to pay the price to go, though he can afford it.
Peek-a-boo! There he is crouching behind a palm tree, hiding next to his long-suffering, yet adoring wife, Lola.
My girls and PI partners are here, too, for the sendoff. They should also stay out of sight given the bad mood they’ve been in these days. They’re impossible to be with. There’s Ida, she of the usual cranky, negative disposition who today is even crankier. And Sophie and Bella. I always think of them as all in one word, a double scoop of trouble. We refer to them as the Bobbsey Twins. Sophie is all about color co-ordination. Bella is our second-childhood, forgets-everything innocent one. They are inseparable. And just as sulky as Ida nowadays.
It’s obvious to me what the group problem is and I’ll deal with it. Scarlett O’Hara said all problems should be put off ’til tomorrow, and I agree. I’ll think about it tomorrow.
So Evvie and I are last-minute waving to our husbands who are looking at us from their bus windows. ‘Have a great trip, we adore you,’ we call out. We get lots of ‘I adore you,’ back. Lots of ‘we’ll miss you’s,’ of course. Smiling as they wave back to us. They look so cute in their pith helmets.
‘Where ever did they find pith helmets?’ I ask Evvie.
Her answer, ‘I have no idea, but they are endearing.’
With last air-kisses, off they go. I hope Jack packed his iPhone, so maybe there’ll be WiFi and we can stay in touch.
The bus has barely blown its farewell exhaust at us, when in a matter of moments Hy appears at our side. Chipper as usual and just as offensive. Rubbing his hands gleefully, something he does when he’s up to no good, he addresses the five of us. ‘Well, with all the guys abandoning us, I guess I’m gonna be one of the girls for a while. What fun. We can all hang out together and have a hot time in the old town.’
Ida whispers loud enough for our cliché-maven neighbor to hear it, ‘Fat chance.’
Bella, who is usually confused, asks, ‘How can he be a girl?’
Evvie, with hands on her hips, glares. ‘Don’t think we’ll be your harem.’
His big pop eyes pretending honesty, Hy gives us an oily smile. ‘Think of me as the leader of the pack. The alpha male.’
‘Hah,’ Ida grimaces. ‘Then go hang out with a pack of hyenas. Not us.’
Bella is triply confused. ‘How can he be a girl and a male? And a hyena?’ We ignore her malapropos.
Evvie points and pretends excitement. ‘Oops. Here comes the mailman. Sorry, Hy. We gotta run.’
And off we race, as best we can, aggravating our arthritic legs. To our mailboxes. A ho-hum daily event mostly useless, since we usually don’t get much. Once in a while some flyers from restaurants, with free dinner coupons. Politicians asking for money. Frequently scary pamphlets with the latest drugs for the elderly; which we ignore. We especially scowl at the usual warnings of side effects: suicide or death. Sure puts us off.
But at this moment the mail is a great excuse to escape that annoying Hy. And one more reason.
Recently, there has been something odd showing up in my mailbox, which has drawn a lot of interest from the girls.
They crowd enthusiastically around me, waiting expectantly. I turn my key, as they hold their combined breaths.
Evvie asks, ‘Do you think there’ll be another one today?’
‘I hope not.’
Sophie hugs Bella in her excitement. ‘Hurry up. Open your mailbox.’
Ida pretends her typical indifference.
I open the box, and yes, it’s there. All by its lonesome. Another plain white envelope, stamped and addressed to me, postmarked from Key West. I say envelope, not ‘mail’. The girls watch me eagerly as I tear it open. Sure enough, another plain white sheet of paper is enclosed. And, yet again, with no writing on it. Not one single word.
This is the fifth of these non-letters I’ve gotten this month. It must be some kind of prank. But who is sending them?
We have hashed it over and over again; everyone has an opinion.
Ida. ‘Some dumb kids.’
Sophie. ‘A mystery advertisement.’
Evvie. ‘I haven’t got a clue.’
Bella giggles. ‘Gladdy, you have a secret admirer. Sending you secret love letters. So secret, you can’t even read them.’
Leave it to Bella to put a romantic spin on it.
TWO
Bored, I am Bored. Deliver Me
Tomorrow is here and it’s time to deal with my problem. The girls are bored. Very bored. Some people, when they are tired of something, look to other things to keep them involved. Go to a movie. Overeat. Buy a new outfit. Read a book. Eat too much candy. A new craze, child-like coloring books for adults. And don’t color out of the lines.
Not my trio; nothing interests them, so they mope. Not so much, Evvie. She just keeps her moodiness to herself. Just my triple pests. They are vocal.
We take our daily morning walk around the perimeter of our condos, and what do I hear, loud and clear:
Sophie, ‘This is so dreary. I feel gosh-darn pokey.’
Ida, ‘We see the same old trees and grass every day. Is there anything duller than watching grass grow?’
Bella won’t be left out, ‘And the same old, old people.’ She always adds a coda. ‘We need new old people. But where would we get them?’
Including Evvie, ‘Yawn. Yawn.’
Here’s a new wrinkle. We see Hy creeping up on us. And there’s Lola, known for her jealousy and insecurity, playing the spy, Mata Hari, or maybe The Shadow, hiding behind a bush to see what her seemingly nefarious husband is up to. She adores him, but she doesn’t trust him. How did he get away from her; she micro-manages his every moment. Ha Ha, as if any of us would be interested in spending time with him! And why is he picking us, anyway; go bother some other residents.
Hy thinks it’s playtime for Bonzo and we’re not having any. We are passing the bathrooms adjoining the pool, so in order to escape him, we hurry into the Ladies Room and hide.
We wait long enough until we think he’s given up and gone home. We peek. Oops. Hy is still standing there, Lola is still lurking. Back in we go, we need to linger in the bathroom some more.
Finally, after a count to ten, he’s gone. And so is Lola. We exit, and as we stroll around, the girls are once again wailing their favorite kvetchings.
Sophie, ‘Dull. Dull. Everything is so dull.’
Ida, ‘Same old, same old.’
Bella, ‘Old, very old.’
Etcetera.
We go out one afternoon to play Bingo, which is the group’s absolutely favorite pastime in the entire world. I always have to fairly drag them home after a regular four-hour exhausting, numbing session at the Bingo Palace. Now I get:
Ida, ‘This game is rigged. Nobody can lose as often as we do. It’s not fair.’
Bella, ‘That Lolly Finster wins twice and we don’t win once. It’s not fair.
Sophie, ‘I was on three times. And that woman who sits next to me, who never shuts up and always gets the number I need, she gets to yell Bingo! It’s not fair.’
And Evvie. ‘They called my favorite number three, but do I win on it? No!’
They can’t wait to leave.
And who should show up just as we’re heading out the door? His arms filled with bingo game packs. His pocket bulging with marking daubers of many different colors. A big grin on his face. Eager to join us. You know who. Hy, the guy.
We wave goodbye at him. Evvie calls it. ‘Sorry, we’re done. Early day today. Bye.’
We pass him and walk out on him, leaving him with colored ink on his face. And is that suspicious Lola hiding behind a lamp pole, still in spy mode? Yes she is.
And the beat go
es on.
And what about shopping? Mention a trip to a mall, any shopping mall, their favorite way to spend time, with spending little amounts of money. Today we take off, slowly for them, to a local mini-mall. I would have taken them to their favorite Sawgrass Mills mall but that has 300 stores. We would have been there all day and I would have to drag them out of there at closing. So, I keep them local. Hoping for only three grueling hours of waiting. However, surprisingly, I get the call to leave after one half hour.
Sophie, ‘I can’t find anything I like. Let’s go home.’
Ida, ‘The salesgirls are just plain rude. Let’s go home.’
Bella, ‘I saw one thing I like …’ The other three glare at her. She bends to their will. ‘Let’s go home.’
Ida again, ‘We shoulda gone to Sawmill. More choices.’
I groan. You can’t win.
And who should be running to catch up to us? Shopping bags flopping against his flabby hips. Hy, the silly stalker. How did he manage to find us? He must have bloodhound genes in his DNA. Or he followed us. But we smile sweetly and perform a group shrug. Sorry, we’re done with our shopping and heading for home. Hy is foiled again. Where’s lurking Lola? There she is, cowering in a discount liquor store doorway. Doesn’t she ever give up?
We are sitting at an outdoor patio under our favorite palm tree near the pool. Playing cards, a daily happy habit. Not cheerful any more.
Canasta is being played at a fever pitch. Once a friendly game of gossip along with laughing. Gone. This time turned into a real spite and real malice kind of pastime. With beady-eyed mean looks and shouts of malevolence as cards are snapped down on the table.
Ida is furious. ‘Cheater!’
Sophie equally angry. ‘You’re the cheater. Don’t you call me names!’
Bella, a teary whisper. ‘Please girls, don’t fight.’
Ida to Sophie snarky, ‘Why don’t you just sit on her lap, and save your eyes the trouble of bending over to look!’
Sophie to Bella, (ignoring Ida), ‘Don’t play the queen, honey bunny. She’ll take you down.’
Bella, ‘Okay, I won’t.’
Ida, grim, ‘And you know that she has a queen in her hand, how?’
Evvie groans. ‘Oy, play already! I can’t take much more of this. I’m getting a migraine.’
Ida to Sophie and Bella, ‘You keep this up and I’m gonna smack both of you!’
Bella, cowering, ‘Please don’t hit me. I’m old. And fragile.’
Sophie puts her arm around her friend, ‘She wouldn’t dare. I won’t let her.’
With dismay I watch as they slash verbally at one another’s throats. Unheard of behavior. This is getting really serious.
Hy, carrying a boxed Jeopardy game, backs off; he doesn’t dare come near us with all the screeching and threatening. He tiptoes away.
Where’s Lola? I can’t spot her anywhere. Has she finally given up, certain her hubby is safe from us dangerous dames? I actually miss her.
Still trying to make them happy, I take my girls out to a new restaurant. Well, new to us. A fancy-shmancy one, Seasons 52 in the Galleria. A reason to get out of shorts and dress up a little. And I offer to treat. This is a huge incentive. They are crazy about going to restaurants. Anything, so as not to cook. Especially great if they don’t have to pay. But … you guessed it:
Sophie, ‘My chicken cacciatore was cold.’
Ida, ‘Our waitress was so rude. Her tip will be zilch.’
Bella, ‘My veal parm … gin … parma jain, parma spaghetti was hard.’
Evvie tries to help her out: ‘That was veal parmesan and pasta al dente.’
‘Al Who?’
Evvie sighs. ‘It’s all right. Forget it.’
Dessert is always a restaurant must. Not this night. Unbelievable. They turn down strawberry cheesecake? We go home. The girls are still depressed.
What is their problem? Why are they bored? It’s obvious why. And it’s not because the men have all gone. Except for Evvie, not that they care. It’s because Gladdy Gold and Associates hasn’t had a job in months. Insecurity has infected them. The girls question themselves. Have they lost their touch? Will they ever detect again? They’ve become job junkies. They need a fix. Soon there will be bloodshed. I have to do something, but what?
Nine a.m. and we’re in the pool, all of us doing our daily morning aquatics exercise. I had to talk them into going. They wanted to skip it and just sulk, and feel sorry for themselves. Finally they gave in, unwillingly.
This is one lackluster non-effort workout today. They look messy. The girls haven’t bothered to comb their hair. They’re wearing old, stretched-out bathing suits. Ida has on an unattractive torn bathing cap. They don’t care how they look anymore. They moan and groan as they walk, back and forth, from one shallow side of the pool to the other, their usual morning pool exercise. Dreariness has set further in.
And there he is. Standing at the side of the pool, leering down at us. We are trapped at last. There’s no getting away from Hy this time. Is he going to jump in the pool with us? No. He isn’t in a bathing suit. Thank goodness.
‘Hey girls, lookie here,’ he chirps, smiling phony grins. We all turn to see what he wants.
With that, he whips out a camera from behind his back. The girls make stupid faces, shake their fists, and yell at him to back off. Anything to annoy him.
‘Say lox and cream cheese,’ he snickers. Hy is undaunted. And in a moment’s flash, he’s snapped our photo. Once accomplished, he skips merrily away.
I can see super-spy Lola, hiding in the bushes, giggling.
What was that all about?
THREE
Hy’s Evil Revenge. We are Saved
It’s driving us crazy. What was Hy up to? What was the point of that weird, quick snap of our photo? By the end of the week, Evvie and I suspect something is awry. Neighbors stare at us. Some of them point. A few snicker. Others giggle. But they don’t want to tell us why. I have a strong hunch it has to do with Hy. What else could it be? In the black moods my girls are in, the three of them don’t seem to care. He’s staying away from us, is all that matters.
We happen upon Big Tessie the next morning. We find her at her open mailbox, looking perturbed. She swirls her hand around the obviously empty mailbox, searching for something that isn’t in there. All she’s getting is dusty hands.
She tosses out at this little tidbit to us, ‘Boy, do I have something naughty about you.’
‘Oh,’ I say carefully, ‘that’s interesting.’ Tessie always needs to be handled properly. It always comes with a price.
That comment seems to pull my girls out of their stupor.
First we need to listen to Tessie gush about how much she misses her Sol. And questions, she has so many questions. ‘Why haven’t we heard from the guys yet?’ Without taking a breath, ‘Does he have malaria yet? How can he be eating healthy on a safari? Do they know this is a man who lives for French fries soaked in ketchup? Where will he find ketchup in the wild? They’re probably making him eat African food, whatever that is. I saw pictures, in the National Geographic. I sometimes look through them at the library.’
What a character. The guys are only gone a short time. And she expects letters?
Ida is already tapping her feet. Ms Impatience. ‘So what do you know, that we don’t know?’
Big mistake Ida; that is not the way to get to Tessie. I motion her to back off. She does it reluctantly.
Tessie is still on her riff. ‘The magazines had pictures of what African natives eat – roasted ants and fried grasshoppers. Can you believe! I kept reading it, even though it was making me sick to my stomach to imagine.’
This brings her to the next tirade on her husband and the food chain. Shuddering, ‘Maybe, by now, a lion has eaten my Solly? I’m having nightmares from not knowing.’ She says all this while squeezing out a tear or two. She doesn’t wait for any comments.
She blurts on, manufacturing a few more tears. ‘I hear n
othin’, not a phone call. Not even a text. Not a letter.’
Bella is impressed. ‘You know how to text?’
‘Of course not,’ she says with pride. ‘Do I look like the type who would own one of those hinky phones or a computer? I’m low tech. And proud of it. I’m no nerd.’
I try to calm her. ‘I’m positive our men are still uneaten, and are fine, and having a good time.’
Tessie sniffs, ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
Ida has had enough of her whining. She demands answers. ‘What’s going on? Why is everyone looking at us funny?’
‘Of course I know.’ She stops short, suddenly busy giving her empty mailbox another swipe.
Bella says timidly, ‘What do you know?’
Tessie huffy, ‘Why should I tell you?’
Oh, oh, I predict Ida will soon blow. Not good. Ida, with arms folded, legs spread apart, in get-mad stance, attacks. ‘And just why won’t you share your knowledge with us?’
Tessie copies her body position. ‘And what’s in it for me?’
It’s become necessary to take sides. My girls line up behind Ida. Passing neighbors merge and back Tessie. They have no idea what this is about, but they think they should even up the odds.
Ida mimics Tessie. ‘What’s in it for you? Wadda ya want, a bribe?’ She brandishes her fists. ‘I’ll give you a bribe!’
Cowardly Tessie backs down. A tiny bit. ‘It’s on the computer.’
Evvie prompts her. ‘What’s on the computer?’
Tessie giving out information is like pulling teeth out of a raccoon. My group glares at her.
She finally gives up. ‘All right. All right! Since I don’t own any computer, Lucy, next door to me, let me see it on hers. There were six of us watching. We all had a good time. You’re famous. Soon I’ll ask for your autograph or maybe you’ll be selling T-shirts with your names on. Make sure to carry extra large for me.’ She stops and takes a deep breath.
Uh, oh, I think. This sounds ominous.
Evvie exchanges a worried look with me. She urges Tessie to go on. ‘Please tell us what you heard and saw.’