Sam tried to remember where Tommy had started. “I’m warning you, this whole story is gonna sound nuts.”
“Just tell it like they told it to you.”
And that’s exactly what Sam did. When he had finished, Sam thought Chona had proven herself to be a good listener, barely interrupting his story more than a dozen times. That wasn’t too shabby, Sam thought, for a woman.
“I believe every word of it,” Chona said, excitedly. “I’ve read a ton about microchips and how the New World Order plans to use them to control the population. If Shari’s father invented something that destroys these chips, we have to find it.”
“Yeah, but a ray gun? Come on, honey-buns, that sounds like somethin’ straight outta Flash Gordon.”
“Sugar-pie, a ray gun makes perfect sense. Just think about it. The world has gone crazy and we have to do whatever we can to set things right. Let’s get changed and drive over there. Shari has to let us in that house.”
“You’re the boss.”
They went into the bedroom and undressed, but they didn’t remerge for another hour. Sam wore a white t-shirt over blue jeans and Chona wore a blue button-up shirt over a pair of khaki shorts and running shoes. Sam called Tom and told him that he and Chona were going to drive out to talk about the rebuilding project. Tom said something about having car trouble and they would be home all day. They locked up the house and jumped into the Ford, with Sam taking the wheel. “You never let me drive,” she pouted.
“A real man always drives, that’s just the way it is.”
“You’re such a male chauvinist.”
“Nope, I’m just old school. My old man taught me that.”
“Tell me more about the house. Tom said that it’s full of booby-traps? Did he say what kind?”
“I dunno nuttin’ about that, so we’re gonna have to be really careful. I was thinkin’ that maybe you should stay at the other house while we go in there.”
“I’ll do no such thing. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
Sam started the Ford and backed out of the little driveway, into the alley. “I knew you were gonna say something like that,” he said. “You just stick close to me, okay?”
“I will, I promise.”
The traffic was surprisingly heavy for a Sunday morning. They were both happy to see the gas stations had reopened and while there were still lines at the pumps, they were much shorter. Sam drove with both hands on the wheel while Chona made calls on her iPhone. Traffic ground to a halt on 394 and inched along for several miles. By the time they pulled up to the gate, it was nearly noon. “Yeah, it’s me,” said Sam to the talk-box, “Open up!”
The gate opened and Sam pulled through. “This is so beautiful, isn’t it?” asked Chona. “God, I’d kill to live out here.”
Sam turned to face her. “I know plenty of guys that thought the same thing. You should see where they’re livin’ now. Don’t ever talk like that.”
“I’m sorry, buttercup. It was just an expression of speech.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t really mean what you said. Yeah, this is really a nice place they got.”
The Ford topped over the rise and the big house rose majestically before them. Chona stared at the house as they drove past. “I can’t wait to get in there,” she said. “I can’t believe that no one has been inside that place for five years. That’s just crazy.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what Shari says. Look, they must have lost a tree in the storm. That’s too bad, that was some big tree. Hey, what’s that underneath it?”
“It almost looks like it could be a car.”
“That’s just what it is. That’s Shari’s car.”
“Oh, the poor girl.”
“Are you kiddin’ me? Take a look around and say that again. I dare ya.”
Sam shifted the Ford into park and shut off the engine. They climbed out under the cloudy sky and walked around to where they could skirt the fallen tree. The little car was crushed almost beyond recognition. Tom waited for them on the other side of the mess and he stood shaking his head. “We just can’t catch a break,” he said. “Can you believe it?”
Behind Tom, standing in a cloud of smoke, stood Doris and Marie. Sam nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said, “I can believe it.”
“Hi Sam,” said Marie, “I’ve never met your granddaughter.”
Doris roared with laughter. “Maybe it’s his great granddaughter?”
“Will you two knock it off?” asked Tom. “Mom, Marie, this is Chona. She’s going to be rebuilding your house.”
“What kind of a name is Chona?” asked Doris.
Chona strode over to stand in front of her. “Look Boris, I’m Sam’s girlfriend. Do you have a problem with that?”
Doris backed away. “No, I don’t have a problem with that. We were just joking around. Umm… my name is Doris, not Boris.”
Chona glared at her. “Oh, so it isn’t funny when someone makes fun of your name, is it?”
“No, I was just curious, that’s all. I’m sorry.”
Chona pointed at the women. “Sam has told me all about you two. I’m going to be blunt. I’m nobody you want to mess with. I run my construction company with an iron fist and I don’t put up with any crap. You might be Tom’s mother, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. We’ve got a job to do and I’m here to get it done. You don’t have to like me. One more thing: anyone who messes with Sam messes with me. And ladies, I play hardball.”
“You know what?” asked Marie, “I like your style.”
“Me too,” said Doris, offering Chona her hand. “I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot.”
Chona shook Doris’ hand and then she shook Marie’s. Sam watched the scene unfold feeling proud of Chona, but also wishing she would have punched both women in the mouth.
“Shari is inside making lunch,” said Tom. “Shall we go inside?”
“Sure, that’d be great,” said Sam.
Doris and Marie continued to smoke as the others walked into the house. “I don’t like her,” said Doris.
“I hate her stinkin’ guts,” said Marie, spitting onto the patio. “Who the hell does she think she is, anyhow?”
“She’s a dirty little bitch, that’s who she is.”
“I hope Sam gives her an STD.”
Doris laughed. “How are we going to get into that house with everyone here?”
Marie shrugged her shoulders. “I say we use the day to gather everything we need. We should have a rope and some flashlights.”
“And a first aid kit.”
“Right, we can’t forget that. We should also have some bags to put stuff in. We can’t be sure the money is in a briefcase. I think that stuff only happens in the movies.”
“There’s a flashlight under the kitchen sink and a first aid kit in the downstairs bathroom. I’ll go inside and grab them. See if you can find some canvas sacks and a rope in the garage. And find a way to cut the power next door, there could be a circuit breaker or something. Oh, and maybe she’s got one of those hook things to tie on the rope. That could come in handy.”
“What kind of hook thing are you talking about?”
“You know what I mean,” said Doris, using her hands to help explain, “one of those metal things with three big fishhooks on the end.”
“You mean a grappling hook? She ain’t gonna have one of those. What, do you see us scaling up the wall like Batman and Robin?”
“No, stupid, I thought it might come in handy for lowering stuff out the window.”
“Well, I can tell you right now that she doesn’t have one.”
“How would you know?”
“Why would she have one? Do you think she’s Cat Woman?”
“Maybe you should just go home. You know what, Marie? I’m getting sick and tired of your big fat mouth and your shitty attitude. This is my score, not yours. I invited you here out of the goodness of my heart, and this is how you repay me? I’m the only pe
rson on this planet who gives a rat’s ass about you. I’d think you’d have a little more respect for me.”
Marie wore one of her ugliest scowls. “Are you finished?”
“As a matter of fact, no, I’m not finished. “I mean it, Marie. You either shape up or you can ship out. I’m sick of your negative attitude. Why do you have to suck the fun out of everything?”
Marie stabbed her finger at Doris and bared her teeth. “I suck the fun out of everything?” she asked, sarcastically. “I have a negative attitude? Doris, that’s the kind of crap I’ve been putting up with, from you, for the past forty years!”
Doris crossed her heavy arms and made a pinched face. “Do you think she’s the Cat Woman?”
“Can’t you take a joke?”
“You know I can, but I never know when you’re joking. That really hurts my feelings.”
Marie put her hands on her hips. “What, you have feelings? That’s a shocker.”
“You see, there you go. Every time I open my mouth, you just have to say something snotty. You must have a diseased brain to think like that. It isn’t normal.”
“Oh, I’m not normal. I have a diseased brain. Will you stop and listen to yourself? You should be talking into the mirror.”
“Do you know what? I’m done with you. You think it’s a weakness to pay people compliments or to say nice stuff about anything. Well, I’m done being the butt of your little jokes. I’m going to tell Tommy to take you home.”
“Yeah, how is he supposed to do that?”
Doris thought about that and then she pointed to Chona’s Ford. “I’ll see if Sam will drive you. I’m not kidding, Marie. I just can’t take any more of your snide remarks.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, is that what you wanted to hear? I have depression issues, Doris, you know that. I sometimes talk without thinking. Look, I know that this is your score and that you were nice enough to let me in on it. I appreciate that, I really do. But I’m always gonna be rough around the edges. That’s just who I am. Why do you think I’ve never been married? I just tell it like it is.”
Doris sighed and shook her head. She knew that this was the closest Marie had ever come to apologizing to anyone about anything. She had to accept her wimpy apology before Marie called her bluff. She hadn’t really meant a word about sending Marie packing. She needed her. “You got big bells,” said Doris. “Fine, let’s put this behind us and get to work. Just watch it with those snappy answers, okay?”
“I’ve got big what? Oh, never mind, I’ll be in the garage.”
Doris paused, waiting for Marie to add some vinegar to her words, but she didn’t. Doris walked in the patio door and found the two couples seated in the living room. She pretended to busy herself with a stack of magazines and strained her ears. The room remained silent. When Doris looked up, all eyes were on her. “Ma, we’re trying to have a private conversation. Do you mind?”
“We’re all family,” she replied, offering them her sweetest smile. “I don’t mind at all.”
“Yeah?” asked Chona, “well, I’m not part of the family and I do mind. We’re not talking about anything that has to do with you.”
Doris picked up a heavy candlestick and imagined how good it would feel to bash Chona’s brains out with it. Still smiling and still holding the candlestick, she walked out of the dining room and into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Chona. “I just didn’t want her to hear what we were talking about. I hope that was okay.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about,” insisted Shari. “She likes to hover and listen in on conversations.”
Tom was going to defend his mother, but he knew Shari was right. His mom was the queen of all snoops. “So, what do you think, honey?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. “Will you let us in there?”
Shari jumped up from the sofa and began pacing the room. “Yes… I mean no… God, what the hell is wrong with me?”
“Tom is probably right,” said Chona. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been chipped. What is in there that you don’t want anyone to see? Think about it, Shari, why do you have this obsession with keeping the world out of that house?”
“Trust me, there’s nothing in there that anyone can’t see. My parents were just regular people with extraordinary talent. I miss them so much.”
“Hold it,” said Tom, waving his hands. He stared toward the dining room. “Ma, I can see you in there. Why don’t you grab a bottle of wine and take it down to the boat. When we’ve finished here, I’ll take you ladies out for a putt around the bay.”
Doris walked out from her hiding spot. She was carrying a brown shopping bag and wearing her most innocent expression. “Thank you, Tommy. That would be nice. Um… I packed us a little lunch,” she said, pointing to the brown bag. “I know you’re trying to have a private conversation, so I’ll leave you alone.”
Shari glared across the room until Doris was out the door. “Like I was saying,” she said, “before we were so rudely interrupted.”
“Hey,” said Tom.
“Hey, what?” asked Shari. “She’s always stalking us and I’m really getting tired of it.”
“You think this is bad?” asked Sam.
“How can you live like this?” asked Chona. “My God, I’d go crazy.”
“Stop it,” said Tom, “we’re getting off track. Shari, I felt like we were about to have a breakthrough. Are you going to unlock the big house and let us in? Don’t you see, Shari? That’s the only way to get the monkey off your back. Come on, honey, let’s go over there right now. What do you say?”
Suddenly, Shari’s fingers curled into claws and her face turned as red as a ripe tomato. With blood in her eyes, she approached Tom.
“This is worse than I thought,” shouted Chona, standing up between Tom and Shari. “Shari, snap out of it!”
Shari continued advancing as if Chona wasn’t there. Still walking, she crouched low to the ground and got into a fighting stance. Tom peered around Chona and couldn’t believe the awful look Shari gave him. She looked as if she might try to kill him. Chona, who had been standing her ground, stepped forward and slapped Shari, hard. Shari roared with anger. Then, as fast as Billy Jack had ever been, she kicked Chona in the face with her right foot. Chona spun completely around, but never lost her footing.
“Holy crap,” said Sam.
“Look at yourself!” shouted Chona, rubbing her cheek. “Shari, you’ve got to snap out of it!”
But she wasn’t talking to Shari, not the one who had been there only moments ago. This was Robot Shari, and unbeknownst to her, she had been programmed in five of the Martial Arts. She jabbed out with a throat punch, but Chona, a ninth degree Black Belt, blocked the jab and kicked Shari in the meaty part of her thigh. Shari never even flinched. She circled Chona in the middle of the living room. She tried a judo chop, but Chona twisted out of the way, her long hair flying; Shari grabbed a handful of that black hair and jerked Chona to her knees.
“Get up!” shouted Sam.
“Shari, look what you’re doing!”
Chona gave a wild cry and lashed out with her fists. Shari cried out in pain and let go of Chona’s hair, but Chona continued her advance. She lashed out with vicious kicks and thrusts. Shari blocked many of these, but she couldn’t block them all. One of the punches, a straight shot to the nose, knocked Shari to her senses. She doubled over and cupped her hands over her nose, crying out in pain: “My doze!”
Chona, who was already planting her feet to deliver a roundhouse kick, caught herself. “Shari?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
“What?” asked Shari, standing up and letting her hands fall away from her face. Two streams of blood gushed from her nose. “You punched me,” she said in obvious disbelief. “What I ever do to you?”
Tom ran to the kitchen and ran cold water over a clean washcloth. He rang it out and brought it back to Shari, who was now seated on the sofa. Chona was explaining what had happened, but Shari remembered none of it. “You
’ve had some training,” said Chona. “You must remember it.”
Shari stared at Chona. “I’ve never been in a fight and I’ve never had any training. I hate fighting.”
“You could have fooled me,” said Chona, touching her cheek.
“Oh my, did I do that. You had better get some ice on that.”
“What the hell happened in here?” asked Doris.
“Looks like we missed a catfight,” said Marie.
“Oh Jesus,” said Sam. “Will you two just leave us alone?”
“Ma, I told you to wait for me down by the boat. Now, will you please leave? We’re trying to settle something.”
“Can I put ten bucks on the Asian?” asked Marie.
Chona turned with an expression so horrible that it sent the women scrambling out the patio door. “Keep them away from me!” she shrieked.
“They’re gone now,” said Tom, soothingly. “Just calm down, Chona, everything is going to be alright.”
“I’ll get you some ice,” said Sam. “Just sit down and cool your jets.”
“I must have been chipped,” said Shari, dabbing blood from her nostrils. “That’s the only thing that explains what just happened. I’m not a fighter. Hell, I’m not even athletic. You say that I did that to your face?”
Chona touched her cheek again and she turned to Sam. “I’ll take that ice, anytime now,” she growled. She then returned her attention to Shari. “I’ve fought women twice your size and they weren’t half as good as you were. Do you have any idea how much money I’ve spent on my training? You almost beat me.”
“I don’t know how. I don’t remember any of it.”
Chona nodded. “Are you going to open the house for us?”
Shari’s fingers began to curl up and her eyes grew dark, but Chona sank into a striking stance. “What’s happening to me?” asked Shari. “I just wanted to kill you. I could feel it.”
“Here,” said Sam, handing Chona some ice cubes wrapped in a dish towel. “You might want to get a steak on that thing. It’s pretty ugly.”
Chona pressed the ice against her face and grimaced. “You wanted to kill me because you were programmed to keep people out of that house. Try and remember that. I hate to say this, but we can’t risk bringing you along when we look for the ray gun. It’s just too risky. You might go robot on us and shoot us all dead.”
The Minnesota Candidate Page 25