Change of Fortune

by Jana DeLeon

  Remembering Gertie’s backup food, I dropped down, pulled a box of cupcakes out of her purse, and tossed the bag of Fritos to Ida Belle. We jumped out of the Jeep and yelled at the gator as we ran, shaking our food offerings. I opened the box and tossed one of the cupcakes, scoring a perfect shot right in front of Godzilla. He stopped short and flung his tail around, tripping Gertie and sending her sprawling onto Main Street.

  “Do not go up that post again!” Deputy Breaux yelled as Celia grabbed on to the post to start her ascent. Deputy Breaux sprang for her as she got a couple feet up and attempted to pull her back down. Unfortunately, he reached a little too high and all he came down with was the blue underwear. He made a noise that sounded partly like a scream and partly like a wail and flung the offending cotton behind him, smacking Carter directly in the face with it.

  Godzilla finished the cupcake and turned his attention back to the fray in front of him. Someone in the crowd yelled for everyone to duck, and the next thing I knew, a flare flew over a line of people and landed right in front of the gator. I thought the stick of fire would send him running, but instead, he clamped down on it and flung his head back and forth as if working up a toss.

  I ran up to him and waved the cupcake where he could see it. As soon as he caught sight of the food, he made a beeline directly toward me, still holding the burning flare, and I took off. Gertie had managed to get upright but still had her hand caught in the leash and was being pulled behind him. I just needed him clear of the crowd and the shops and then I could get a shot. It wasn’t what I wanted, but sometimes a mission didn’t go as well as one hoped. All the commotion had riled up the gator, and Gertie was a meal on a string. If he got to the water with her still attached, he’d pull her under and be gone before we could even scream her name.

  I looked behind me and saw that the gator was a little too close for comfort and picked up the pace, praying that Gertie could keep up. Ida Belle dashed back to the Jeep, and I saw her digging in Gertie’s handbag as I ran past. As we rounded the corner of the shops, Godzilla tossed his head to make the turn and pitched the flare into a snow-cone stand, sending a cardboard sign advertising the specials up in flames.

  Once Godzilla straightened back out, he picked up speed and so did I. I just needed to get him far enough away to mitigate the potential damage of a ricochet. When I was about ten feet from the water, I threw the cupcake, spun around, and pulled my pistol from my waistband, leveling it at the charging gator. But before I could fire, Ida Belle jumped in front of me and sliced the leash clean with an enormous hunting knife. Godzilla dashed into the water, snagging the cupcake, and then disappeared below the surface, leaving only a trail of bubbles and chaos on Main Street in his wake.

  Ida Belle and I dropped down next to Gertie, who pulled the leash off her wrist, revealing a nasty burn. Her pants were a casualty of the fall, and her knees hadn’t fared much better.

  “Can you stand?” I asked.

  Gertie nodded. “I’m fine. It’s just some scrapes.”

  Ida Belle threw her hands in the air. “Are you kidding me? You won’t be walking tomorrow without a round of aspirin and a couple shots of cough syrup. I swear, woman, one of these days, you’re going to have a heart attack over your antics. Or give me one.”

  “Oh, stop your bitching,” Gertie said. “You’ve been saying that for decades now, and yet here I am, still going strong.”

  I heard rumbling behind us and saw Carter round the corner, a small crowd a bit behind him. A billow of dark gray smoke towered in the air behind them. “We need to shelve this argument for now,” I said. “We have a bigger threat at the moment.”

  Carter was seriously pissed.

  He strode up to us and gave Gertie a once-over. He must have decided she looked good enough, because he didn’t inquire about her injuries.

  “Where’s the gator?” he asked.

  “Took off down the bayou,” I said.

  “Why didn’t you shoot him?” he asked. “And don’t bother trying to weasel out of it with excuses about no clear shot or worrying about your ability. We both know better.”

  “I didn’t have a clear shot until right at the end,” I said.

  “So why didn’t you take it then?”

  “Because Ida Belle jumped in the way and cut Gertie loose,” I said. It was sorta the truth. Ida Belle had jumped in the way. A little. I mean, I could have shot around them both, but there was no use admitting that. Not if I wanted to stay out of the doghouse.

  “Cut her some slack,” Ida Belle said, her voice low. “She’s used to shooting people, not gators. And probably never with an audience standing behind her.”

  Carter sighed. He was still mad but he couldn’t argue with our logic. Unfortunately, the most illogical person in Sinful chose that moment to come stalking up to us and train a gaze of death on Gertie.

  “I have a clear shot now,” I whispered.

  Carter hesitated a full second, then shook his head.

  Celia stomped through the crowd, pausing to grab her handbag from a teen who’d held it out to her as she passed. I recognized him as one of the busboys from the café.

  “You should be ashamed,” Celia said to him, “trying to steal a lady’s handbag.”

  The teen flushed with anger. “I’m returning your handbag, you ungrateful old crow. And don’t even confuse yourself with a lady.” He turned around and stalked off through the crowd.

  “I want that woman arrested,” Celia said as she stepped up and pointed at Gertie.

  “For what?” I asked. “Trying to keep that gator from snacking on your big blue butt?”

  Celia’s face turned even redder, and she started to sputter. “That…that BEAST chased me down the street from the butcher shop. He ate thirty dollars’ worth of deer steak that I’d just purchased.”

  “Shorty’s got deer steak?” Ida Belle asked. “He’s been holding out.”

  “Stop it!” Celia screamed, spittle flying out of her mouth and spraying all of us. “Stop all your blather. Do your job for once and arrest her.”

  The aggrieved look on Carter’s face said it all. “She hasn’t broken any law.”

  “She created a public nuisance,” Celia ranted. “Or do you plan on letting that alligator take over downtown?”

  “You’re a public nuisance,” Ida Belle said. “Carter should arrest you for attempted assault since he could have suffocated to death when you fell on him.”

  “There’s also the whole blue-underwear-in-the-face thing,” I said.

  “Like I wanted any of that to happen,” Celia said.

  “Please,” Gertie said. “That’s the first and last time you’ve ever been astride a good-looking man. Don’t knock the gift horse.”

  If Celia’s head could have spun around on her shoulders, it would have. I actually saw a vein appear on her forehead. She raised her hand in the air and I swear she was about to lose it completely and attempt to hit someone when I heard a horse approaching.

  I looked over and saw the ancient Sheriff Lee approaching on his even more ancient horse. Celia dropped her arm and smiled. “Finally,” she said. “Someone who knows how to uphold the law.”

  I was fairly certain that Sheriff Lee was expending most of his energy upholding himself on the horse, but who was I to get in the way of Celia and her idea of justice? We all counted the seconds, then minutes, as the sheriff made his way over to us, and before he could even issue a greeting, Celia started in.

  “First off,” she said, “I want you to know that this town has become a tragedy ever since you turned the reins over to this sorry excuse for a deputy.”

  “What?” Sheriff Lee yelled and held one hand up to his ear, apparently trying to form a funnel to make things louder. “I’ve got the reins right here. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I want you to arrest Deputy Breaux for assault and personal property damage,” she said.

  Sheriff Lee stared. “Who’d he assault?”

  “Me!” C
elia yelled.

  “What was the personal property damaged?” he asked.

  “A blue parachute,” Gertie said.

  I tried not to laugh, I swear. I didn’t want to make things worse for Carter, but when Ida Belle started chortling, I couldn’t help myself. Then Gertie joined in and before long, we were a huddled mass, shaking with laughter. Exhausted from the stress, the run, and mostly from Celia’s existence, I sank onto the ground and drew in a deep breath, trying to get control of myself. Gertie and Ida Belle dropped next to me and Carter gave us a disapproving look, but I could see his lips quivering.

  “The deputy pulled off my undergarments,” Celia continued. “Ripped them right from my body.”

  Sheriff Lee stared at Celia for a bit, then looked over at us, his expression one of complete disbelief and massive confusion. “So, er, you’re not saying this was a sexual assault, are you?” he asked.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Celia said.

  “And where did this alleged assault happen?”

  “Right here on Main Street.”

  Sheriff Lee shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean you don’t think so?”

  “I’ve known Deputy Breaux his entire life and unfortunately, that goes for you as well, and the only polite thing I can say is I don’t buy it. You must be mistaken.”

  Celia put her hands on her hips and glared at Sheriff Lee. “What?”

  “Dang woman, your hearing’s worse than mine,” he yelled. “I’m saying it must have been an accident because there’s no way Deputy Breaux put his hands on your drawers on purpose.”

  Celia let out a strangled cry. “Well, I never!”

  Sheriff Lee nodded. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  Someone in the crowd that had formed around us took that moment to slingshot the blue underwear directly at Celia’s head. She snatched the panties off her head and I swear if they’d been a bomb, she would have set them off right there, killing us all.

  “There you go,” Carter said. “Your personal property is recovered.”

  “No damage except the stretch marks from her wearing them,” Gertie said, and collapsed in my lap.

  Celia whirled around and stalked away. “You haven’t heard the last of this.”

  I smiled up at Carter. “Still have a clean shot.”

  Chapter Two

  After Celia and her underwear stalked off, Carter waved at the crowd. “That’s it,” he said. “The show is over. Go about your business.”

  He looked down at me. “You know this is going to be all over the internet. Do I need to confiscate phones?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Ahmad’s guys are good, but I don’t think they could data-mine my face on a passing shot. And I made sure I turned around before Godzilla headed our way.”

  Ida Belle gave him a pointed look. “I think a bigger problem is going to be if your Special Forces buddies see it.”

  “He’s in the clear,” Gertie said. “First he was hidden by Celia’s big butt, then he was hidden by Celia’s big-butt panties.”

  He cringed. “Can we please cease all references to the panties from this moment forward?”

  Ida Belle nodded. “I can appreciate the horror you must have experienced. May I suggest a bottle of whiskey and a round of therapy?”

  “I’d just go shoot something,” Gertie said.

  “Don’t tempt me,” Carter said. “Because I have a target in mind.”

  Gertie frowned. “Godzilla doesn’t mean to cause trouble. He just prefers home cooking to sushi. Given how much you like my casseroles, you can’t really blame him.”

  Carter stared at her. “Oh, I’m not blaming the gator.”

  “Well, what was I supposed to do?” Gertie asked. “I couldn’t let that poacher get him.”

  Carter sighed. “Look, I know you were trying to do a good thing, but this is one of those cases of no good deed goes unpunished. If that gator keeps coming around people, someone is eventually going to have to shoot him. Today, it could have been Fortune or Ida Belle. How do you think they would have felt about that?”

  Gertie’s shoulders slumped. “They would have felt bad and that’s the last thing I want, but I don’t know how to fix the situation.”

  “I think the only solution,” Ida Belle said, “is to trap the gator and see about a wildlife sanctuary. He’s gotten too used to people and isn’t going to stop coming around them. Not when he knows we have tasty treats.”

  “I agree,” Carter said and gave Gertie a sympathetic look. “I get it. I really do, and I think your intentions were good even though the execution didn’t turn out so well. But that gator needs to be in a controlled environment or he’s not going to be around much longer. One more incident and the townsfolk will be screaming for me to hunt him down, and there’s not a good argument to make for the contrary. Chasing Celia down Main Street is one thing, but he also managed to take out the only snow-cone stand in the town. And it’s going to hit a hundred degrees today.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Ida Belle said. “If you can buy us some time on this one, I’ll make some calls and see what I can come up with.”

  Carter nodded. “I know someone with a rescue organization. I’ll call him and see if he has any ideas.”

  “I’m sure Tim has insurance on the stand,” Gertie said, “but tell him I’ll pony up the money for the deductible and his lost profits.”

  “I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” Carter said.

  “Well,” I said, not liking so much gloom and doom this early in the day, “I think it’s beyond time for breakfast, and since mine was interrupted, I’m starving. Maybe we could head over to the café and have some blueberry pancakes?”

  Francine’s blueberry pancakes were one of Gertie’s favorites. She perked up a little.

  “That does sound good,” she said.

  “I’m going to have to pass,” Carter said. “I have a report to file, and I’d rather Wildlife and Fisheries hear about this from me before they hear it from Celia.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “And you know as soon as that woman gets home and puts on a new pair of drawers, that’s the first thing she’s going to do. She’s not going to rest until Carter is out of a job and Fortune is run out of town.”

  “Then she’s going to be very tired,” I said. “I swear, I have never seen someone so determined to volunteer to lose.”

  “Celia is one of a kind,” Gertie said. “So are those pancakes, and my stomach is rumbling. It’s hard to come up with solutions with a rumbling stomach.”

  “Got that right,” I said.

  We left Carter and headed for the café. Despite being midmorning on a Monday, it was pretty busy. I figured that’s because so many people had headed downtown to see Celia up the lamppost, then stuck around for breakfast, just as we’d decided to do. Our table in the back corner was open, so we headed that way and took seats. A minute later, my friend Ally came round to get our drink orders.

  “I heard about Aunt Celia,” Ally said, unable to stop grinning.

  Gertie gave her a thumbs-up. “Sales of Sinful Ladies Cough Syrup are sure to skyrocket. The whole town saw her underwear.”

  “Again,” I said. “There really should be some sort of law requiring you to keep your personals on when in public.”

  Ida Belle straightened up. “There is. The city council passed it during the Great Underwear Riot of 1948. Came in handy when streaking got popular in the seventies.”

  I had no idea what constituted an underwear riot or what prompted one, and I wasn’t about to ask. I’d had more exposure to strangers’ underwear in Sinful, Louisiana, than any one person needed in a lifetime, especially since the exposed underwear was usually attached to Celia. This pair just happened to be out parading around without her.

  “Did Deputy Breaux really fling the panties in Carter’s face?” Ally asked.

  Gertie nodded. “Probably would have suffocated if he hadn’t
gotten them off so fast.”

  “He’s probably on his way home now to shower in bleach,” Ida Belle said.

  “He could have packed them in a backpack and used them as a parachute,” I said.

  “Or a mainsail,” Ida Belle said.

  “He could have made tents for homeless people,” Gertie said.

  “He could have cut them up and stocked an entire sheet section of a Bed Bath & Beyond,” Ida Belle said.

  Ally reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Stop. You’re killing me, and we’re too busy for me to take a break. Can I drop by after work? I have something else I want to run by you guys.”

  “Of course,” I said. “We’ll be at my place, trying to come up with a plan to relocate Godzilla before Celia figures out a way to turn him into luggage.”

  Ally frowned. “There’s a rumor going around that she went to New Orleans and bought a gun. I’m scared for all of us if she starts carrying it.”

  “That’s definitely not good,” Ida Belle said. “Celia does enough damage shooting off her mouth. The last thing she needs is real ammunition.”

  Ally nodded. “She’s been weird lately. I mean, she’s always been strange, but it’s been worse. This morning she was in the first wave of customers, and I swear she smelled like raw chicken. Aunt Celia has a lot of quirks, but not bathing or laundering her clothes isn’t one of them.”

  “Maybe she’d been cooking,” Gertie said.

  “Maybe,” Ally said, and shrugged. “I’ll go grab your drinks.”

  “Celia with a gun,” I said. “That’s a whole new level of worry we didn’t have before.”

  “You should tell Carter,” Gertie said.

  “I will.” I shook my head. Despite being a tiny bayou hamlet, Sinful produced enough crime to keep Carter hopping. The last thing he needed was more problems from Celia. She was already in the fat middle of most of the noncriminal sort of trouble in the town. If she’d just let her grudge match with Ida Belle and Gertie go, not to mention her desire to run me out of town, things would be so much more peaceful. But Celia seemed determined to chase those dreams into a coffin.