by Lesley Crewe
“…the cellphones got mixed up. It’s as simple as that,” Gemma said.
“So where’s my phone?” Blue wondered.
“I don’t care about your phone,” Candy exploded.
Augusta put her hand up.
“What?”
“Maybe you should call his number. Bette may answer.”
Blue groaned. “Oh boy, I’m in trouble. If Flea and Tony called an old lady, my ass is cooked.”
Gemma stamped her foot. “Bette is not an old lady. She’s my age.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Old.”
“Smartass.” Gemma turned to Candy. “Call the number and see if Bette answers. Do you want me to talk to her? I’ll tell you if it’s Bette or not.”
“I ain’t givin’ you a phone.”
Gemma shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever. The last time a woman answered, you thought it was Bette, and look what happened. We have Blue here instead.”
Candy hesitated. “All right, but no smart moves.” He adjusted the gun that was shoved down the front of his pants.
Gemma and Augusta exchanged glances. Just to hear Bette’s voice would be enough. Candy passed Gemma the phone. Her hand trembled as she pressed the numbers and the phone started to ring.
Bette and Linda’s situation was now desperate. They couldn’t move.
When Bette screamed into the phone to Miriam, Flea jumped across the kitchen and batted the cell out of her hand. It landed on the pizza box filled with diamonds, and the gems were scattered across the room.
Greed overrode anger as a distracted Flea and Tony scurried around and made sure they had all of the precious stones. Once they were gathered inside an empty jam jar, Flea turned his attention on his prisoners.
“That was a dumb move, lady.”
He tied Bette and Linda to their chairs and turned them back-to-back before he roped the chairs together. It made things worse, not to be able to see each other, but they entwined their hands together to keep their spirits up.
Once the women were taken care of, the men weren’t sure what to do. They stared at the diamonds in silence.
Bette got impatient. “Do we have to sit in this kitchen for the rest of our lives? You have to give those back. Haven’t you ever seen The Sopranos? Believe me, you don’t want to mess with these people.” Flea sat there biting his thumbnail. Tony smoked one cigarette after the other.
Linda spoke up. “You know, you should play it this way. You stumbled on these through no fault of your own and expect a reward for their return. Tell them you didn’t have to give them back, but you are. Would that help?”
Tony gave Flea’s shoulder a quick flick with the back of his hand. “That makes sense.”
Flea slammed his fist on the table. “What makes sense is to take these diamonds, leave the country, and never be heard from again.”
Tony looked fed up. “We’ve got enough trouble. We have to get that coke to you-know-who; they’ll hunt us down if we don’t deliver. We don’t got a lot of time.”
That’s when the cellphone rang.
The four of them froze for a few seconds, then Flea said, “No one touch it.”
“It’s probably Blue. They’ve no doubt figured it out by now.” Linda said. “Answer it. It’s not like they know where you live, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
Flea hesitated at first, and then grabbed it. “Hello?”
“Is Bette there?”
Flea put the phone to his chest. “Someone wants to know if Bette’s here.”
“So tell them I am.”
Flea spoke into the phone. “First tell me if Blue’s there?”
“Not until you tell me if Bette’s there.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Flea cursed. “Yeah, she’s here.”
“Let me talk to her. I can’t know for sure until I hear her voice.”
He held the phone to Bette’s ear. “Hello?” she said.
“Oh Bette, it’s Gemma. Are you okay? Don’t worry, Augusta and I are together…”
“Yes, Linda’s with me…”
Flea took away the phone. “Where’s Blue?”
A man answered him. “He’s here.”
“Let me speak to him, to make sure.”
A voice came on, “Hello, Flea?”
“Blue, you stupid bastard…”
The other male voice came on the line. “Who’s this?”
“Who’s this?”
“Cut the crap,” Candy said. “Who am I dealing with?”
“Well, who am I dealing with?”
“Look, I think we both know what’s happened. I believe you have something of mine and I have something of yours. Am I correct?”
“Maybe.”
“Stop with the fucking games.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask for this,” Flea yelled. “It fell in my lap, and you need my cooperation.”
“And you need mine.”
“I think you need mine more than I need yours. Your something is a whole lot more than my something. I think a reward is coming to me, don’t you?”
Silence. Flea waited him out.
“What kind of reward?”
“The memorable kind.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“Sayonara.” Flea clicked the phone off.
“Whatcha do that for?” Tony yelled.
“I’m the brains of the operation. Wait for it.”
Two whole long minutes went by before the phone rang again.
“Yeah?”
“Let’s talk.”
Stuart painstakingly told Detective Ames everything he knew about what his wife had been up to. Ryan yawned and moaned a lot.
“Can we get out of here? My ankle is throbbing.”
He whipped his head around. “Just five more minutes, please. Please.”
“You said that ten minutes ago.”
The detective’s phone rang. Ames picked it up. “Detective Ames.”
“Yes, hello, Detective. My name is Miriam Weinberg. You were talking to my husband, Mordecai, earlier this evening about my sister-in-law Bette.”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Weinberg. Did you get a hold of her?”
“Well, she got a hold of me, in a matter of speaking.”
Miriam told him about Bette’s call, and how Bette’s family was driving to New York and would get in touch with him when they arrived.
He thanked her for calling.
“Please find her. You don’t know my in-laws. This will kill them.”
“I’ll do my best, Mrs. Weinberg.”
He hung up the phone and looked at Stuart. “Bette called home. She’s been kidnapped. She’s a thirty-minute drive from Washington Square Park.”
Stuart rose from his chair. “I told you where we last saw the car. We chased them for probably five minutes anyway. Did she say anything about Linda?”
“No. It was only a moment’s conversation and then the line was severed.”
“What can we do now?”
“‘We’? What do you mean, ‘we’?” Ryan complained.
“I have to do something, Ryan. How am I going to explain to my son that his mother is missing and I let it happen?”
“You tell him his mother is completely stupid and wouldn’t listen to a thing you said. It’s not like you didn’t warn her.”
Stuart dropped back into his chair and sighed.
Detective Ames said, “You can’t do anything at the moment, Mr. Keaton. Just keep your cellphone on in case she calls you, and let me know right away. I have your number. If I find out anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“All right.” Stuart stood again and held out his hand. “Thank you for all your help, Detective.”
“Sure.”
Detective Ames hurried away after signalling to another detective to come with him. They both went out the door.
Stuart and Ryan looked at each other.
“So now do I get some attention?”
He frowned.
“Let’s go.”
“Are you taking me to the hospital?”
“Of course I’m taking you to the hospital. That’s where you want to go, isn’t it?”
“I guess so, but what I’d really like to do is to go to Tiffany’s. Maybe a nice ankle bracelet will make me forget the throbbing pain.” She reached down and rubbed her ankle ever so lightly.
“Ryan, it’s the middle of the night. Be sensible.”
Ryan folded her arms across her chest. “You just care about your striking wife. Well, I can go on strike too, ya know.”
This was definitely the longest night of Stuart’s life.
Flea finally finished his negotiations with Candy. It was a long, drawn-out process, and Linda and Bette became increasingly tired as the nonsense went on. Flea finally got off the phone, jumped up, and hit Tony in the shoulder.
“Right, we’ve got to go. We’re meeting them at the Bronx Zoo.”
Tony pointed at the women. “What about them?”
“Leave them here. They’ll be more trouble than they’re worth in the car. We’ll take care of them when we get back.”
“What do you mean, take care of us?” Bette asked.
“Mind your own business.”
“I believe it is our business if you plan on killing us.”
Flea put his face next to hers. His bad breath almost made Bette retch. “You’ve got such a big mouth, lady. I can’t wait to shut it forever.” He straightened up. “Let’s go.”
The men hurried out the door.
Linda squeezed Bette’s hand. “Don’t worry, Bette. We’re going to get out of here.”
“How? We’re tied up like hogs.”
“Hogs don’t know how to use a knife. Let’s jump over to the cutlery drawer.”
“Which one is the cutlery drawer?”
“One of them has to be. Jump in the air when I say three and lean to the left.”
“Whose left? Mine or yours?”
“Mine.”
“Okay.”
“One, two, three.” They pushed off with their strapped feet and managed to move a whole half an inch.
“This is going to take forever,” Bette wailed.
“Don’t give up. Do it again and don’t stop. One, two, three…”
They hopped and hopped but didn’t get very far.
“I don’t think this is working.”
Linda pinched her arm.
“Hey, stop that. How would you like it?” Bette pinched her back.
“Bette, focus. I think the problem is that we’re headed in two different directions. Let’s follow this row of tiles over to the counter, the third row from the wall.” She jerked her head to indicate the row she meant.
“Okay.”
“One, two, three.” They leapfrogged over to the sink. By the time they got there, they were covered with sweat.
“Great,” Bette said. “What now?”
“Look for a knife, of course.”
“How do we do that?”
“Grab the drawer knob with your teeth.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you know how many germs live on those handles?”
Linda knocked the back of her head into Bette’s. “Would you rather be shot or have a cold sore?”
“Oh God.” Bette grabbed the handle of one drawer in her teeth and slowly drew it open. Then she let go and spit on the floor. “Gross.”
“What’s in it?”
“Damn. Looks like a junk drawer.”
“No doubt they’re all junk drawers. Is there anything in it we can use?”
“A nail, a clothespin, a candle…”
“Maybe we can burn the rope.”
“I don’t have a match, do you?”
“Okay, I’ll try this one.” Linda pulled at the drawer nearest to her. She peered inside. “There are clean tea towels in here. One of these jerks must have a girlfriend. Jump backwards and I’ll check the next one.”
They hopped over to another drawer and finally found a small knife.
“How will you reach it?”
“Any way I can.” Linda tried to stick her head inside the drawer, but she couldn’t extend her neck far enough, what with the rope around her arms and legs.
“Damn.”
“I know,” Bette said. “Pull it right out and let it fall on the floor.”
“Good idea.” Linda grabbed the knob in her teeth and pulled for all she was worth. The drawer slid out slowly, but not all the way. “Oh perfect. Close, but no cigar.”
“Grab the last bit with your chin.”
So Linda strained her neck once more and tried to grab the end of the drawer with her bottom jaw. She managed to pull it out completely and the drawer fell to the floor with a clatter. They peered at the dirty tiles and looked for the knife.
“There it is.” Bette shook her head to the right. “Over there by the table leg.”
“Okay,” Linda said. “Be brave. Any way we do this, it’ll hurt. We have to tip over and land on the floor. Are you ready?”
“Wait. Are there any sharp objects about?”
“They’re all sharp objects.”
“I mean, are there any sticking up? We don’t want to impale ourselves on a vegetable peeler.”
“Not that I can see. So, are we ready?”
Bette nodded.
At the count of three, they leaned over to one side and fell to the floor with a resounding thud.
“Oh God, my shoulder,” Bette moaned. “I think I dislocated it. Are you okay?”
“My elbow’s broken, but other than that, I’m fine.”
Bette gave a little yelp.
“What’s wrong?”
“Lin, don’t look up under the table. You wouldn’t believe it.”
Of course, Linda looked under the table. “Oh, good lord, are those wads of gum or old wasp colonies?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Okay, let’s shimmy over to the knife.”
They tried to crawl on their sides using a modified breaststroke without their arms and legs. It was rough going, but Linda finally managed to get the knife in her hand.
“Okay. Pull as tight as you can on the rope and I’ll try and saw this back and forth.”
“Don’t slit my wrists, Lin. I don’t want to die on a dirty floor.”
“Stop talking about dying. We’re not going to die. I refuse to, do you hear me? Absolutely refuse.”
“Okay.”
“We have to get out of here and save Gemma and Augusta. They have seven children. Seven babies who need their mothers!”
“It’s okay, Lin.”
Linda’s voice trembled. “You guys are my family. I can’t lose any of you. I can’t.”
“It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry. We’ll make it.”
Linda started to cut the rope.
Candy, Dumber, and Blue went to the Bronx Zoo to make the exchange with Flea and Tony. They had to leave immediately, as it was almost dawn.
Dumb was left behind to watch the prisoners, and he was like a bear with a sore paw.
“What happened?” Gemma asked him.
“Whaddaya mean?” Dumb paced up and down.
“I thought you were going to stand up for yourself. You’re in the right, not them.”
Dumb’s eye started to twitch. “I got my orders, that’s all.”
Gemma shook her head. “As far as I can see, you’re better than Dumber.”
Dumb looked at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re Dumb, but he’s Dumber.”
“You’re right.”
“So tell Candy you’re not going to put up with it anymore.”
Dumb paced and hit his fist in his open hand. “Yeah.”
“And by the way, aren’t you a tad upset that your boss calls you Dumb? I’m sure that’s not your real name.”
“My name’s Jethro.”
“I should’ve guessed.”
Keaton was starting to get a little fussy. The women tried to keep him enterta
ined, but he was having none of it. He began to cry, and he kept it up. Dumb held his hands up to his ears as he walked around the tiny room.
“Jeez Louise. Enough already.”
Gracie did her best to quiet Keaton, but he only wailed louder. She began to fret. “I think he’s been in this diaper too long. I think his bum is sore.”
Gemma and Augusta concurred. “Let’s get it off him.”
Dumb rolled his eyes. “Not the shit stuff again. Is that all he does?”
“He’s a male,” Gemma shrugged. “All he does is eat, burp, fart, and shit.”
“And grab boobs,” Gracie added.
Dumb grinned. “Hey, that was good.”
“Thanks.”
They lay Keaton down, and sure enough, his little bottom was raw. The women gathered round and made sympathetic noises, or at least that’s what Dumb thought. Actually, they made plans. Gracie pulled the cellphone out of her top and passed it to Augusta, who quickly dropped it down her cleavage.
Gemma whispered, “This is the best chance we have to get you out of here, Gracie. We’ll distract Dumb. I want you to grab this child and run. Keep running until you can flag a cab or get to a phone.” She slipped her a roll of money. “Use this, and when you’re safe, call the police and tell them where we are, as best you can.”
Gracie’s eyes filled with tears. “But I can’t leave you.”
Augusta said under her breath, “You have to. We’ll keep the cellphone in case we can use it, but you’re the best chance we have.”
Gemma nodded. “The only thing that matters right now is getting this darling baby out of danger. You’re a brave girl, Gracie. We know you can do it.”
Gracie wiped the tear that trickled down her face. The ladies tidied Keaton as well as they could, and his mother wrapped the sheet around him. She jiggled him up and down as she walked closer to the door.
Gemma suddenly gasped and grabbed the front of her dress. “Ahh…”
“Gemma, are you okay?” Augusta cried.
Gemma lurched forward and hit the table, then rolled over and fell to the floor. “My heart…”
Augusta screamed at Dumb. “Do something, she’s having a heart attack. Please, help her.”
Dumb hurried over and knelt beside Gemma, who writhed on the floor. Augusta kept up her barrage of desperate pleas and Gemma joined her with gasps and groans.