She swerved left into her neighborhood and drove up and down the streets slowly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ellen or her mail truck.
Bingo! Dana found her about five blocks away from the funeral parlor.
She parked the ice cream truck behind Ellen's mail truck. She turned off the engine and was rewarded with instant relief when the song stopped too. She walked all the way around the mail truck but didn't see Ellen anywhere.
She was about to climb back in the ice cream truck when she saw the mail truck shaking—
Ellen sure has a small bladder.
—and bouncing up and down.
She started back for the rolling door but stopped when she heard something mighty peculiar. It sounded like whales mating. She knew that sound because she liked to watch Animal Planet when she had insomnia.
She figured that Ellen was either really sick or was a really bad singer. She rolled up the back door of the mail truck and once again came face to face with Ellen's bare butt. But this time Ellen wasn't squatting over a Gatorade bottle. This time she had her butt in the air and her nose buried between a woman's thighs.
The woman who belonged to the thighs, leaned up and looked over Ellen's shoulder.
And the woman was—drumroll—none other than—drumroll—Kimmy! Rimshot!
Dana screamed inside her head and clasped her hands over her ears like that Culkin kid in the Home Alone movies. It was incomprehensible, yet the evidence was irrefutable. Dana was staring right at the butt of her girlfriend while she was going down on her girlfriend. Her girlfriend's girlfriend was her girlfriend.
Ellen lowered her butt and looked over her shoulder. "Dana?"
Dana looked from Ellen to Kimmy. "Kimmy?" she asked.
"Dana?" Kimmy asked.
"Ellen?" Dana asked.
"Kimmy?" Ellen asked.
"What the hell are you doing, Ellen?" Dana asked.
"You two know each other?" Kimmy asked.
"Who's Kimmy?" Ellen asked.
"Her. The woman you're going down on," Dana said.
"That's Jeannie," Ellen said.
"Who's Jeannie?" Dana asked.
Ellen pointed at Kimmy. "She's Jeannie."
"That's not Jeannie. That's Kimmy," Dana said.
Ellen and Dana looked at Kimmy and asked simultaneously, "Who are you?"
Kimmy stood up and wiggled back into her panties, pulled her skirt back down, saying to Dana, "Never you mind who I am, who are you?"
Dana shouted. "You know who I am! I'm Dana!" She pointed at Ellen and asked Kimmy, "Who's that?"
Ellen said, "You know who I am! I'm Ellen."
Dana rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "I know who you are and you know who you are and I know who I am and so do you and we know who each other is, but what I want to know is who are you to her?"
"Run that by me again," Ellen said, standing and pulling her pants up.
Kimmy jumped out of the back of the mail truck.
"Kimmy, where are you going?" Dana asked.
"Her name's not Kimmy. It's Jeannie," Ellen said.
"No, it's Kimmy," Dana said.
"She's my girlfriend, I ought to know her own name," Ellen said.
“She's my girlfriend and I say her name is Kimmy," Dana said.
"We have the same girlfriend?" Ellen asked.
"Apparently, you're the one Kimmy's been screwing behind my back all this time."
Ellen said, "So, you're the one Jeannie's been screwing behind my back."
"I should've known," Dana said. "I should've known you were too good to be true. You've been lying to me all along."
"Oh, no, you don't. I'm not the liar. You can't blame this on me. If anybody lied, it's you!" Ellen shouted.
"I never lied to you!" Dana shuffled her feet. Except for that one part about being an alcoholic, but that's not what we're talking about right now. "You're the one telling me how much you like me and want to be with me, then having sex with somebody else."
"She's my girlfriend. I can have sex with her anytime I want."
"In the back of a mail truck during work hours? That's where my tax money's going? Isn't that like a federal offense or something?"
"It's my lunch hour! And, like you haven't been having sex with her too," Ellen said disgustedly. "And don't talk to me about breaking the law. Lesbianism is illegal in Oklahoma so you're guilty too."
"Both you and Kimmy Jeannie are cheating on me! That does it! I'm breaking up with you both!" Dana made a memorable exit, hopping out of the back end of the mail truck, slipping in the gravel and landing smack-dab on her rear end. "Crapola!"
Ellen leaned out of the back of the mail truck and looked down at Dana. "Are you okay?"
"No, I most certainly am not okay. Your girlfriend stole my ice cream truck."
"My girlfriend? I thought she was your girlfriend."
Dana stood up and brushed the gravel and dust off her rear end. "Not anymore, she's not. You can have her."
"But I don't want her."
"Tough titty said the kitty." Dana did an about-face and walked away as fast as she could without actually running . She looked like a speed walker, a very angry speed walker. She had no idea where she was going, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she get far away from Ellen.
***
Three minutes later Dana was still walking, though not as speedily as before. She was headed for Trudy's because that's what best friends are for and besides, she had nowhere else to go. She was about two blocks from the funeral parlor when she heard the unmistakable tinkling of "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know."
Dana quickly jumped off the sidewalk and hunkered behind a hedge. She peeked over the hedge edge in time to see the ice cream truck varoom down the street with the music blaring over the tinny-sounding speaker. A whole passel of kids were frantically chasing after the truck, waving dollar bills. They were red-faced, wheezing and yelling, "Stop! I want ice cream! Hey! Get back here, where're you going?! I'm going to tell my mom on you!"
Kimmy stuck her head out the window and shooed the children with her hand, yelling, "Stop following me! Go away!" When the fastest kids caught up to her, she accelerated and careened around the next corner on two wheels.
The pack of kids outsmarted her by running through a yard, heading down the alley and cutting her off one street over.
"Leave me alone!" Dana heard Kimmy shout from two blocks away. "I don't have any friggin' ice cream!"
Dana laughed. She doubled over, held her belly and laughed. She laughed until she had tears streaking down her face.
***
"Let me get this straight," Trudy said, "Ellen is your girlfriend's girlfriend? You're dating Kimmy and Ellen is dating Kimmy and you and Ellen are dating?"
Dana was too busy crying to answer. It was like the dam had broken and she was drowning in her own tears. She was lying on top of Trudy's make-over table, face-down, head buried in the crook of her elbow, sobbing and hiccupping.
"Which one are you crying about?" Trudy asked. "Are you heartbroken over Kimmy or Ellen?"
"Ellen!" Dana sputtered through tears and snot.
Trudy wrapped her arms around Dana's shoulders and nuzzled her nose into her hair. "Aw honey. I know it hurts. But, you know, someday we'll be laughing about this."
"I don't think so," Dana said. "I was so in love with her. Big Love, with a capital L."
"You've been through worse times than this, Double D. Remember Lisa?"
"Which one?" She sniffled.
"Any of them. All of them. You thought you were in big love with all of them."
"I wasn't in love with Lisa Four."
"Riiight," Trudy said. "I know you, remember? Every time you kiss a girl, you think it's love."
"Doesn't matter. It's over now."
"You're not really going to run away, are you?" Trudy asked.
Dana sat up and asked brightly, "Hey, you want to go with me? We could go to a big city and you could start up your dead celebrity
look-alike business."
Trudy looked away and shook her head. "I'm not ready. I still have to...I have lots to do."
Dana nodded her head and said, "Okay, but you're going to be sorry. I'll be out there somewhere having a grand ol' time and you'll be here still playing wet nurse to a dream."
Trudy looked stern. "This isn't one of your TV movies, DD. This is real life. And in real life when people run away from the law, they get caught and when they get caught sometimes they get dead."
"I won't get dead," Dana promised. "And you know what?"
"What?"
Dana hopped off the table. "I'm sick and tired of being stomped on. This time I'm going to do the stomping." To prove her point, she stomped her foot.
Trudy was dubious.
Dana faced Trudy and squared her shoulders. She smiled. "I feel free. Like I'm a bird who somebody let out of the cage." She raised her arms and stretched her wings.
Trudy was dubiouser.
"You know, I think I'll do something...I'm going to take Leona's advice and do something I wouldn't have done before. Call it a final fuck-you and fare-thee-well to cheating girlfriends." .
Trudy took two steps back. "You're kinda scaring me, Double D."
Dana snapped her fingers and asked, "Does your daddy still have all those magnetic letters for the sign out front?"
"Sure. But what're—" Trudy stopped. Her face lit up with a grin. "You're not going to…?"
"I sure as tootin' am," Dana said, rubbing her palms together. "Now, go fetch me those letters."
***
The Last Chance Baptist church was the biggest and richest and proudest church in Dooley Springs. It was three stories of red brick and had a pointy spire taller than any other building in the county. The membership had just completed erecting its brand new sign overlooking the four-lane bypass. Magnetic letters made up messages that changed on a weekly basis. This week's message read, “I kissed a girl and I liked it. Then I went to hell.”
Four more Baptist churches were lined up down the bypass and each one had their very own magnetic letter sign. The churches' dueling scripture and cheesy messages kept the non-religious of Dooley Springs thoroughly entertained. Sometimes denizens drove the bypass on a Sunday to read the new messages. It was cheap entertainment.
Trudy pulled the hearse into the Last Chance Baptist church parking lot (they had decided they had to use the hearse because it would hold the long ladder and cops never pulled over a hearse) through the portico and parked it around back so nobody could see them from the road. Trudy had coaxed the keys away from her daddy saying she was going to take it for a wash and wax. She figured as long as she ran it through the Not-a-Spot car wash before she brought it back, he wouldn't be any the wiser.
"Keep the engine running," Dana said. "And keep a lookout while I do the work."
"Okay, sure," Trudy replied. "But what do I do if I see somebody coming? You might not see it if I scratch my butt."
"Honk twice, then get the heck out and save yourself. I'm already a wanted fugitive. You have more to lose, so don't hesitate, go."
"Okay," Trudy said.
Dana pulled the ladder out of the back and propped it up against the tall sign. She scrambled up the ladder and picked off the magnetic letters, tossing them to the ground.
Trudy sat behind the wheel of the hearse, playing with the radio and keeping a lookout for cops or Baptists.
Dana climbed down the ladder and fished around in the big cardboard box of letters looking for the ones to spell out the message she had in mind.
"Dangit!" Dana yelled.
Trudy powered down the window. "What?"
"I don't have enough letters."
"Why? What're you going to put up there?"
"Well…" Dana said, "something along the lines of ‘Kimmy is a cheating whoredog slut who is going to hell and I hate her and she can't even cut hair good and she has a bald hoo-ha.’ You know, something generic like that."
"May I make a suggestion?" Trudy said.
"Sure."
"Cut down your message a little. Make it something simple like "Kimmy is a slut." You know, that really says it all right there."
"Okay, but I want to do all the Baptist signs along the bypass. I want the whole town to see them. And I don't have enough M's to do 'Kimmy is a slut' that many times."
Trudy scrunched up one side of her face and thought for a moment. "I know!" she said. "Do one of those progressive sign things."
"Huh?"
"Like those advertising signs on the way through west Oklahoma. One word per sign. This sign would say 'Kimmy,' and the next one down the road will read 'is' and the next one 'a' and the next will be 'slut. Like that.'"
Dana rubbed her palms together, envisioning it. "I love it! Then as people drive down the highway, they'll read the message one sign at a time."
"Exactly." Trudy powered her window back up.
Dana quickly rummaged around in the box, grabbed the letters M, I, Y, K and M, stuck the K between her teeth, the others in her bathrobe-cape pockets, and headed back up the ladder.
***
"If I'd known revenge was this much fun, I'd have tried it years ago," Dana said. She fake-puffed on a cigarette and handed it to Trudy.
"I can't believe you wouldn't let me see them!" Trudy clenched the cigarette between her teeth as she drove the hearse down the bypass. "What did you write? Tell me!"
"No!" Dana giggled. "I want you to read it just like how all the cars driving by will see it. That way you can give me a purely objective opinion."
"Okay, here comes the first sign," Trudy said.
Dana took back the cigarette as Trudy drove the hearse by the first sign and read the message out loud, "‘KIMMY.’"
Trudy nodded. No surprise there.
"Here comes the next one," Dana said.
Trudy neared the sign for the Free Will Baptist church and read its message out loud, "‘IS.’"
Trudy snickered in anticipation. "‘KIMMY IS’ what?"
Dana stifled a giggle. "‘KIMMY IS…’" She beat a drumroll with her fingertips on the dashboard.
Trudy read the next sign, "‘A SLUT AND...’"
Dana echoed, "‘KIMMY IS A SLUT AND…’" Drumroll again.
"And what?"
"Keep driving," Dana urged. "Here it comes."
Trudy craned her neck around the wheel to read the last sign. "‘EATS POO-POO.’" She burst into gales of laughter. "‘Kimmy is a slut and eats poo-poo’? You actually wrote ‘poo-poo’!" After laughing herself out, she asked, "Why didn't you write "shit"?"
"I was all out of S's, and I had a surplus of O's."
Fifteen
Dana slept like the dead.
She woke up early the next morning and it took her a full two minutes to realize she was inside a coffin. She had fallen asleep there the night before because she couldn't go home and it was a perfect hiding place. Trudy and Dana had stayed up late giggling and talking like they used to in high school before husbands and girlfriends got in the way of their friendship.
Dana availed herself of the facilities and took a quick sponge bath in the ladies room. She used the cheap soap in the hand dispenser to wash her face and neck and hands and arms. The rough paper towels left her skin feeling red and raw. After that, there was no way she was going to use the soap and towels on any of her tender parts.
She had told Trudy that she wouldn't leave until she came into work, but Dana decided that maybe she should sneak home and grab a quick shower before going on the lam. And maybe she should pack a lunch. And change clothes too. Wonder Woman was too conspicuous. There was probably an APB out for her by now with a detailed description of her costume. She could always come back by and tell Trudy goodbye right before she left town.
Dana put her bathrobe-cape back on, this time putting her arms in the sleeves and wearing it like a bathrobe. She tied the belt around her middle and hoped that hid most of her costume.
She crept out the back door and di
sappeared, superhero stealth-style.
***
“Jesus loves me, this I know…”
Dana froze in the middle of her packing and strained her ears.
Clump.
She looked at her bedside clock and watched the second-hand tick off a full minute. There was no more clumping or music so she resumed packing.
It was already six a.m. and she hadn't even taken a shower or changed out of the Wonder Woman costume yet. She was going to have to hurry. The problem was she couldn't decide what to wear. Jeans or sweats? Should she pack both? How many pairs of underwear should she pack? Finally, she dumped her whole underwear drawer into a paper sack. That way she wouldn't have to worry so much about finding a laundromat.
I bet I'll lose weight. I've never heard of a fat fugitive. No time for eating, let alone over-eating. That's a definite bonus.
She dumped all her bras into the sack. Dana didn't own a suitcase because she'd never gone anywhere before. She was sure going to make up for that now. Maybe she could take the time to buy a suitcase (or a new wardrobe!) after she got across state lines.
Was it important to get across state lines? Dana didn't really know. Was she safe if she crossed into Arkansas or could the Arkansas cops get her? She wished she'd paid more attention to those reality cop shows.
Clump.
There was that noise again. Dana thought maybe it was Asscat throwing another squirrel butthole on the porch. Or maybe it was the newspaper being thrown on the porch by the newspaper boy. But it couldn't be that. Dana had unsubscribed to the paper over a month ago when she had a tiff with the editor over the crossword puzzle. He ran the same puzzle two days in a row and when she did her civic duty and brought it to his attention, he told her it was a mistake. "A mistake!" she had bellowed over the phone. The only reason she had subscribed to the paper in the first place was for the crossword. Some days it was the only thing that got her out of bed. All Dana wanted was an apology and a promise that he'd be more careful from now on, but the editor had some bug up his butt about news stories being more important than puzzles and having a lot more important things on his plate to worry about than her puzzle needs and in the end, he refused to apologize sufficiently and she cancelled her subscription just to show him.
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