Getting Old Will Haunt You

by Rita Lakin

  Tessie preens. Being the spreader of gossip is as good as it gets. Furtive, bending down. Whispering. A spy disseminating vital information. ‘I haven’t a clue what it means but Hy has “uploaded the video to his channel on YouTube”.’ She stops, taking a breath.

  Sophie asks, ‘That’s it? What’s that got to do with Hy? What’s a yutube?’

  Ida’s tone promises pain again. ‘Get on with it, already, or else …’

  The watching crowd backs out of the way. Will there be a fist fight?

  Tessie, also distancing herself away from Ida, continues to drag it out; her voice somewhat squeaky this time. ‘He took a movie of you in the pool and put it on that YouTube thing.’ She stops again.

  Ida hisses, twisting her arm. ‘Spit the rest out or I’ll hurt you.’

  I look at my girls. I can hardly recognize them. Threats? Physical pain? Evvie is also dismayed by their attitudes. ‘Shhh,’ I say to cool down the temperature. ‘Let Tessie tell it in her own way.’

  Tessie pulls herself away from Ida and plops down on the nearest bench, fanning herself with a tissue. She blabs, ‘He put that movie on the computer and under it, it says, “Hy’s Harem, Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Elderly broads on a bad hair day, in the pool”.’

  Ida shrieks, ‘We’re his harem? That vonce! That bedbug!’

  Tessie says, ‘They say it’s gone viral,’ not having a clue about what that means.

  Bella is confused. ‘He says we’re sick?’

  Nobody bothers to correct Bella. We leave Tessie, and as of one mind, we all race upstairs to my apartment where our business computer lives.

  We can hear Tessie calling out to our backs something about our being ungrateful and make sure we tell her as soon as we hear from the husbands.

  Out of breath, the girls egg me on to get my computer booted up. Evvie and I manage to figure out how to look for his channel. We find it on ‘Hy’s Harem’.

  He’s really on YouTube? Who knew? And there it is. Tessie saw and heard right. That goniff has uploaded a video of us in the pool. Looking awful. Old, torn bathing suits. Bed-head hair. He’s making fools of us. They’re outraged!

  My girls are screeching all at once.

  Ida, ‘I’ll kill him. I shoulda never had that stupid bathing cap on.’

  Bella, ‘We look awful.’

  Sophie, ‘How dare he?’

  Bella, ‘My hair is all knots.’

  Sophie, ‘My bathing suit is torn at my tuchas.’

  Ida, ‘We were waving at him and screaming. We look like lunatics.’ To Evvie, ‘You had to mention that harem word!’

  ‘What does that mean – a harem? He has sex with us?’ This from Bella, our eighty-three-year-old two-year-old, ‘Did we do it? Why can’t I remember if we did?’

  Ida, yet again, ‘I’ll murder him.’

  Sophie adds, ‘What a nerve!’

  If smoke could come out of their ears, the room would be fogged in by now.

  While they are in rage mode, Evvie and I tiptoe into my kitchen. To brew tea. Herb tea, maybe to calm them down. We are just as flummoxed as they are. But I’m not surprised. Hy is not one to take being ignored.

  The girls follow us into the kitchen and the room being a tiny space, we are a mob scene. ‘Why?’ a chorus sobs out, wanting to understand. I wait. When they are finally finished venting, I say, softly, ‘Maybe it was because we were not kind to him. Maybe his feelings were hurt. If we had just included him sometime. This is his revenge.’

  Ida tries to fold her arms across her chest. Too crowded to manage in my kitchen. ‘Revenge. He wanted revenge? We’ll show him revenge!’

  Bella tries to pat Ida’s shoulder. She can’t, no room. ‘Yeah!’ Then, ‘How?’

  Evvie sighs. ‘Maybe an apology would do more good.’

  Gloom and doom, though Bella does ask if I have brownies to go with the tea.

  The kitchen phone rings. I answer. My girls hear.

  ‘Yes, this is Gladdy Gold of Gladdy Gold and Associates. Yes, we are available. You have a problem? We would be interested in solving your problem if we can. He’s dead, and you think it was murder?’

  ‘Murder?’ whispers Ida, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

  ‘You are located in Key West?’

  The girls are clapping. And jumping in place. ‘A job again. And in famous Key West! Hooray.’ Their depression is over.

  ‘Let me check my calendar.’ I wait quietly for a moment, letting the person on the other line think I’m consulting my date book.

  The girls are practically jumping on me to say yes, already. A pause, then, ‘The dates will work. When would you like us to get there? As soon as possible? In a few days all right?’

  Evvie and I stare at one another as I take notes. ‘Looking forward to meeting you, Mrs Wassinger.’ I hang up. Grins all around.

  From Evvie, ‘Key West? Where our invisible letters came from? A coincidence? Remember, we don’t believe in coincidences.’

  They had us at ‘murder’. Hy is forgotten.

  FOUR

  Getting Ready. Back to the Mall

  Nothing like the smell of success. It changes everything. We have no idea how long we’ll be away, so the girls insist we can use some extra outfits. I can’t talk them out of it. Back to shopping at a mall. I take them to another mini-mall.

  So we go to Phoebe’s Fine Fashions.

  Sophie, glowing, ‘So much to choose from. I wanna buy out the whole store.’

  Ida, smiling, ‘How nice the salesgirls are.’ Ida smiling? Complimenting someone? Unheard of!

  Bella, cheerily, ‘I want all these things.’

  Ida, ‘Lots better than Sawgrass.’

  I groan.

  Evvie, ‘It’s two hours already. My feet are killing me. Pick, pay and let’s go.’

  Sophie and Bella have chosen a half-dozen twin color-coordinated outfits. Of course with matching sun hats and sandals. Lavender and peach are faves. Ida has selected one gray pantsuit which looks like every other gray pantsuit in her closet.

  Evvie and I will stick to our already owned clothes.

  We follow the happy trio as they stomp into the nearest eatery. They are beyond excited. Evvie and I are numb with exhaustion. This time the girls’ cheeseburger is so yummy. The dessert is delicious. Life is good. Suddenly everything is coming up ‘rosy’. Sophie is singing and mangling the Gypsy lyrics. She keeps saying, over and over, ‘A road trip. I always wanna go on road trips.’

  Needless to say they pack too much. Also needless to say, they are in and out of each others’ apartments re-trying on outfits and sharing visions of a wonderful time ahead. ‘Key West, that’s like going on a vacation.’ Never mind the thousands who come to Fort Lauderdale for all the same things that we have. ‘Wonderful beaches.’ When have the girls ever gone to our beaches? And drag home sand? Never. ‘Beautiful ocean views.’ Seen one, seen them all. ‘High-rise hotels.’ Why would we ever go there for that?

  I visit Sophie one morning, intending to talk her into removing items from her overwhelmed suitcase. Bella is already there. The girls are excited. Bella and Sophie are dressed in their twin bunny pajamas and look adorable. Already they babble about their upcoming vacation. Such sophisticates. ‘My dear, we simply adore The Keys.’ La de dah. As if they’ve ever been. Sophie justifies it with: ‘Well, we did see Key Largo, and wasn’t Bogart divine?’

  Since they are floating on cloud nine, I don’t bother to remind them that we’re going there to work. Someone has been murdered. We’re not going there for fun.

  I feel remiss that I didn’t ask the caller enough questions. We have a list I refer to before signing on a client. Important items that help us decide whether or not to take a case. Sometimes there are pitfalls that should be avoided. But the girls didn’t care for any other details. It was a job and in a place they’ve never been.

  I leave them, forgetting to beg them to unpack unnecessary items, but they wouldn’t have listened anyway.

 
Phone calls galore. Three different girls calling each other four times a day. Do the math. Evvie and I get more calls because they have dozens of questions for us, all of them already answered. I tell them, we should leave by Wednesday. I tell them this again and again on Sunday and Monday. They are in a panic, not ready yet. However, to my amazement, Tuesday night, they are packed and raring to go. I won’t bother to report on how many times they phoned on Tuesday.

  Sometimes I feel like the parent of three rambunctious children, who happen to be in their second childhood. Loveable, but draining.

  FIVE

  Wednesday We Exit. Now Minus One?

  Finally, Wednesday arrives. Early morning sneak-out, so Hy won’t catch us leaving and create a fuss. The plan is to meet at my car by seven a.m., not a minute later. Evvie, naturally, is first to arrive. She and I place our few backpacks in the rear.

  Like the Bobbsey twin-some they are, Sophie and Bella, as if they arranged it ahead of time (as was usual), exit each of their apartments, and arrive at my car at almost the same second. Each is shlepping two enormous, seemingly overwrought suitcases. They lumber forth weighed down by their belongings. No use saying anything. We’d only get, the usual ‘but we might need all these things’.

  Evvie says, glaring at the travel suitcases, ‘This is ridiculous. We might be there for only a few days. At the most, probably a week.’

  Sophie jumps in. ‘But what if it’s a month?’

  Bella joins the duet. ‘Or maybe two months? We might need all these things. I couldn’t leave my hot pink taffeta Empire gown with tiara and matching shoes and purse. What if we needed to dress up?’

  Evvie sighs, a sigh based on much aggravating experience with the two of them. ‘We’re leaving to solve a murder. I don’t foresee tea dancing in the near future.’

  I add, tamping down the sarcasm, ‘But, should a cotillion be in the offering, I hear that they do have stores in Key West.’

  Evvie helps me shovel their four cases in the trunk, grunting at the weight. But wait! That’s not all. The two of them have prepared the extras the way we’ve done it on stakeouts. Adding in the back seat, snacks. Drinks. The makings of three meals. Pillows. Blankies. Flashlights. Decks of cards. Knitting. Books on tape. Oy!

  I study my watch. But where is Ida?

  Suddenly, Sophie pokes me and points. Not wanting to speak and possibly wake up the sleeping non-giant, short, spiky Hy.

  We all stare up at the landing in front of Ida’s apartment. Our fifth member is standing there waving frantically at us. In pajamas. In pajamas! Not dressed and ready? That bodes problems. Practically flopping over the railing, indicating that we should come upstairs, Ida continues to wave at us.

  What the heck? I start for her elevator. Of course, my gang of two plus Evvie follow.

  We reach Ida, who is looking strangely pale. With finger on lips to remind us not to speak, we pile into Ida’s apartment.

  Confused. At the door is her packed suitcase and handbag, ready to go.

  The parade continues as Ida leads us into her bedroom where she climbs back into bed and pulls her covers up to her neck.

  ‘I’m sick,’ she announces, at the same time emitting a hacking cough and humongous sneeze. As testimony, she is surrounded by crumpled tissues, various medicine-like bottles, teabags leaning out of used teacups and empty water bottles. ‘I think it’s the flu!’

  ‘Oh, no,’ we chorus in alarm.

  Bella and Sophie immediately pull away from the bed in dismay, eyes wide with fear, as if she’s said she’d come down with black plague.

  ‘What? When?’ I ask. She does look pasty and exhausted.

  Through a throat filled with phlegm, she cries out, ‘I was up all night. I didn’t sleep a wink. I’m a mess!’

  A few moments pass as we take it all in.

  Evvie comments, ‘Well, I guess we’ll have to put the trip off for a while.’

  Another kind of chorus – a whimper from the twin-set. ‘And unpack again?’ kvetches Bella.

  Ida makes a pathetic crawl up her sheet and pillow to half-sit up; a dramatic performance rivaling the famous old-timer Sarah Bernhardt. ‘You mustn’t cancel. They’re expecting you. We need this job.’ Another huge sneeze into what must be the fiftieth tissue of the night.

  ‘Have you a fever?’ I ask.

  ‘I can only guess,’ she says pathetically. ‘Can’t find my thermometer, but it feels like 102.’

  What to do? This is something unexpected. Ida is an important part of our group.

  Ida insists, ‘Don’t be silly. Go on without me. You have to.’

  ‘But we’re a team,’ Bella says unhappily. Sophie nods with her.

  All look to me, their leader. ‘I don’t think we have a choice. We promised we’d be there today and our new clients sound anxious.’

  Ida manages a pitiable smile. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.’

  With last calls of advice on how to medicate, we leave Ida to her sickbed.

  Positive that Hy and Lola’s window shades are still closed, we leave for our road trip. We’re lucky, Hy is probably still asleep, and so we steal out successfully. The last thing I see is Ida sneezing and waving from her bedroom window.

  We exit, minus one.

  We have no time for Hy at this time. Revenge will have to wait.

  SIX

  The Road Trip. Agony and Ecstasy

  Day One

  At first all is jolly. The girls are revved up for a wonderful time. However, my Chevy wagon is packed to the gills. Sophie and Bella are seated in the back seat with all the extra things they brought along surrounding them; behind them, under their feet, on their laps. Even without Ida, they barely have room to breathe.

  ‘Okay back there?’ I ask.

  ‘Peachy-keen with me,’ says Sophie.

  From Bella, ‘Happy. Happy.’ I can see her through my rear-view mirror, waving a lollipop. Though I sense Bella is relieved that Ida isn’t with them. She is usually stuck in the middle between Ida and Sophie. Certain she has wiggle room, and smiles a lot.

  Sister Evvie always gets to sit comfortably next to me in the front. To say we are totally cramped is an understatement. And whose fault is it? Did they need those four full huge suitcases? Their answer was a resounding … yes!

  Are they comfortable? They are all smiles, despite the lack of room. We are traveling 110 miles and will be crossing forty-three bridges. I don’t look forward to when eagerness fades and the misery sets in.

  The twosome can’t agree on what CDs to listen to as we ride along. Bella’s choice is ‘Oh, My Papa’ and other Eddie Fisher favorites (groan). Sophie wants ‘Great Songs’ by Liberace. At his piano. With candelabra. (Other groans.) No agreement reached, so it is decided (by me) that Evvie will read from a travel handbook she brought along, describing places and facts about our destination.

  ‘Don’t you want information about what we can look forward to doing?’ I ask.

  There are mumbles, I think in agreement. But maybe not. For Sophie and Bella, travel is all about what restaurants we’ll be eating in. Travel is also about getting out of the same rut day after day back home. So travel is about just doing something different. With a bit of fear of the unfamiliar thrown in for good measure. But first there’s lots of tourist-like gazing out the windows as I drive US 1, the Dixie Highway. Also called the Overseas Highway, as Evvie informs us.

  Happy. Happy. Until the beginnings of paranoia. The two-way highway is quite narrow, with the whole Atlantic Ocean to the left of us and of the Gulf of Mexico on the right. The girls look timorously from side to side. Water, water everywhere. Bella wants to know if sharks can jump. Like from out of the ocean and into a car. ‘No,’ I swear. ‘Sharks are not for leaping onto shore.’

  As soon as one car passes us too closely, hearing the whirring noise modern cars give off to warn drivers of that very danger, the real fright begins. This time from Sophie. ‘Can a car bump us hard enough to shove us into the ocean or the Gul
f?’

  Again, ‘Not likely.’

  However, when a car does pass, the back-seaters shut their eyes, and cling to one another, in anticipation of disaster.

  ‘Gladdy, close your eyes!’ Bella cries out to me when one car swerves way too close, promising near collision. Her eyes are glued shut.

  ‘If I do, you’ll be sorry. After all, I am the one driving.’

  ‘I forgot.’

  A while later a speedboat passes by on the Gulf side; fast and furious, splashing us in its wake. The girls shriek. There is much hugging of each other once more, and gripping their worn-out blankies. Second childhood, remember?

  Other paranoid comments:

  ‘This is a weird road. It’s awfully narrow.’ From Sophie.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ I say.

  ‘Why didn’t they make it wider?’ From Bella.

  ‘Maybe too expensive.’ From Evvie.

  ‘It goes on for a very long time.’ Sophie whines.

  Evvie states, ‘Well, we have all these keys to pass. Plus all the islands off the side of the keys. This is the only way to get to them.’

  Mumble. Mumble. They are comforting one another.

  Oh, oh, now what?

  Sophie asks Bella, ‘Did you ever get around to making out your will?’

  Bella answers, voice full of doubt. ‘I don’t remember. Didn’t you go with me, when you went to the lawyer?’

  It’s Sophie turn to be unsure. ‘I don’t remember either. It was years ago. We were much younger.’

  Bella giggles. ‘Much younger. I think we were seventy-five.’

  Evvie can’t take any more. ‘You. Will. Not. Die, on this road!’

  She whispers to me. ‘I wish we could pull over so I can kill them.’

  Sophie growls. ‘I heard that!’

  It is I who now has a mantra. We should have gone by plane. We should have gone by plane. We should have … Like an unwelcome tune, it ricochets off my mind.

  I suggest they keep their eyes closed and try to relax while Evvie reads to us about our destination. Anything to keep them quiet.