All that swerving had loosened the speaker on the roof of the truck and it was dangling over the side, hanging by two wires, bleating out musical notes like a homesick goat. In a fit of fury, Dana grabbed the speaker and hurled it at the leader of the cow pack. The herd scattered and the speaker sank into the mud.
Silence. Merciful silence.
Dana bundled Dead Kimmy back into the freezer and drove off.
***
So far, Dana had tried Plan A: Make Dead Kimmy's Death Look Like an Accident and Plan B: Make Dead Kimmy's Death Look Like a Suicide. Both plans had failed miserably. Plan C was less convoluted. Its objective was to hide the body.
Dana drove the truck out to the Boy Scout Hole. This was nothing more than a wide space in Four Mile Creek that snaked through the county and eventually met up with the Illinois River. It was always cold water and always sparkling clear. And at this time of year nobody would be there.
She backed the truck up to the edge of the creek and turned off the engine. She hauled Dead Kimmy out of the freezer and dumped her onto the gravel bank.
Dana thought she heard another car's tires crunching down the gravel road, but when she peeked around the side of the truck, she didn't see anything. She waited and listened a while longer, then after not hearing anything else, she waded out into the cold creek, dragging Dead Kimmy behind her. Once the water was up to her waist, she stopped. Dead Kimmy was floating in the water face up. The rainstorm had the creek moving pretty fast and before Dana could deliberate about weighing Dead Kimmy's body down with rocks or even removing the rope around her neck, a current swept her away.
Dana watched the fast-moving creek bang Dead Kimmy over boulders and carry her around a bend. "Bye, Dead Kimmy," Dana said.
Exhausted, she stuffed herself back into the driver's seat. It was raining again. She turned on the windshield wipers, but they didn't even make a dent in the downpour. In fact, it was coming down so hard, she couldn't see two feet in front of her.
She heard a noise like somebody was crying. When she saw herself in the rearview mirror she realized that she was the one crying. And it wasn't really raining, those were her tears that she couldn't see through.
Dana felt a sudden pain in her chest. Her left boob twitched and a series of pins and needles shot through her ribs.
I'm having a heart attack!
She heard a buzzing sound like a vibrator buried under a pillow.
Oh. My bad. It's my phone.
She dug out the phone, looked at the caller ID and answered. "I'm so glad you called."
Seventeen
Dana had left her stealth superpowers in her other cape. So she did the next best thing and drove through town only using the alleys. She turned into the bank's parking lot and squeezed the ice cream truck in between a big Dodge truck and a Smart car.
Dana figured the best way to not look like she was murderess was to act like she was innocent. So, she leisurely strolled into the city park and whistled all the way up to the monkey bars.
She casually looked around but didn't see anybody. She nonchalantly leaned up against the monkey bars and scrutinized her fingernails.
"Psstt."
Dana looked up.
"Pssstt. Over here." The voice was coming from a big mulberry bush. For one panicked moment, Dana thought the bush was talking to her. Historically, it had happened before. Except the bush had been burning at the time.
Trudy stuck her nose through the brambles of the bush and whispered, "Get over here, DD."
"What're you doing in there? Are you peeing?"
"No," Trudy hissed. "I'm hiding."
"Are you hiding from me?"
Trudy put her fingers in the shush gesture over her lips. "C'mere."
Dana crawled toward her on all fours and worked her way through the bush to Trudy's cozy little hiding place.
Trudy whispered, "Do you have to be so noisy?"
"You said 'c’mere,’ you didn't say ‘c'mere and be quiet,’" Dana whispered back.
"I wasn't kidding when I called, Dana. The whole town and the whole police force is out looking for you. There's a five-state manhunt going on. They think you killed all those Lisas you dated.”
"The police think I have a penchant for killing Lisas?"
Trudy nodded. "Witnesses are popping up everywhere. They say you had a series of Lisas living with you, one after another, then they disappeared one day without explanation."
"I'm not a Lisa killer!"
"Sshhh," Trudy warned. "The cops are digging up all those graves in your backyard. And they can't find Kimmy anywhere. They think you killed her too."
"I didn't!"
"That damn Cece White has pictures of you with Kimmy. Running over her with the ice cream truck and hanging her from a tree and drowning her. Now the police are saying they want to question you, but it's more like the whole town's on a witch hunt. "
"Damn, that CeCe White! I didn't know she saw me doing all that."
"You did it?"
"Oh, don't be so alarmed. I didn't kill Kimmy. I found her already dead and was trying to dispose of her body."
"DD, you have to get out of town. Out of the state. Hell, out of the country. I found Ellen like you asked and talked to her. She's waiting for you. She says she has something important to tell you."
"Is she going to go with me or is she waiting to tell me goodbye?"
"I don't know," Trudy said. "I don't even know if she knows yet."
Dana looked Trudy up and down. "What the heck are you wearing?"
"A dress," Trudy mumbled.
"A dress? You look like a buccaneer."
"It's a wench's dress. I'm a Moor."
"And where's your wig?"
"I'm not wearing a wig. What's wrong with that?"
"I've never seen you without a wig on. Not since grade school."
"What about it?" Trudy said defensively.
"Heeeyyyy," Dana said. "You're going out with Bob Wyer, aren't you?"
"So what if I am?"
A twig cracked and they froze. They stared at each other wide-eyed and listened. After a minute, Dana said, "You know what's weird?"
"No, what?"
"I've known you for almost thirty years and this is the first time I've ever been inside your bush."
"That's not funny, DD."
"It's a little bit funny."
"No, it's not."
"A tiny bit funny?"
"Okay, a tiny bit. This is some serious shit you're in, Dana."
"Okay, wait, let me put on my serious shit face." Dana knitted her eyebrows, pooched out her bottom lip and frowned.
"Now you look like you're pooping."
Dana relaxed her face. "Where's Ellen waiting for me?"
"She's at the Last Chance."
"Why'd she pick a church?"
"She said she has a key because she delivers their mail. She told me to tell you she's left the back door unlocked. You're supposed to sneak inside and meet her there."
Dana nodded.
Trudy put her car keys in Dana's hand, saying, "Take my car so you won't get caught." She gave Dana a little shove, "You have to hurry."
"Trudy?"
"Yeah?"
"If I never see you again...I want you to know...that I…"
"I love you too, DD."
"I was going to say…have fun with Bob Wyer. I think he's the one for you."
Trudy pulled Dana into a big hug. Neither one of them wanted to be the first to let go.
***
Dana parked Trudy's car behind the Last Chance Baptist Church alongside Ellen's mail truck. She pushed open the church’s back door and stepped inside. She closed the door behind her and blinked in the darkness. She felt her way down a long hallway and tripped up a couple of steps until she found herself in a large spacious area. Judging by the shadows and dark shapes, Dana figured she was on the dais at the front of the church.
"Did you lock the door?" a voice asked.
"God? Is that you?"
"It's Ellen."
"I know. I was kidding." Dana walked toward the voice. "Where are you? I can't see in here."
"Good."
"You sound like you're mad."
"Why shouldn't I be mad?" Ellen said. "You were sleeping with my girlfriend and pretending to be in love with me."
Dana turned toward Ellen's voice. "I most certainly was not! You were the one sleeping with my girlfriend!"
"She was my girlfriend!"
"No, she was my girlfriend!"
"Mine!"
"Mine!"
"Stop repeating everything I say!"
"Stop repeating everything I say!"
"I'm not repeating!"
"Neither am I!"
Silence.
"What does it matter whose girlfriend she was or wasn't? You wanted to be rid of her," Dana said.
"So did you."
"Well, we got what we wanted, didn't we?"
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean, not exactly?"
Ellen's voice said softly, "I wanted you."
"Well, isn't that sweet?" another voice said.
The overhead lights flicked on and Dana and Ellen flinched at the brightness. Jenny McCoy stumbled up the center aisle between the pews. She was holding a purple decanter in her hand.
"Jenny?" Dana said.
"Well, if it isn't the two lesbian lovebirds," Jenny slurred.
Dana noticed that Jenny's hairdo looked like she'd missed her last hair appointment. "Are you drunk?"
"Noooo," Jenny said. She took a step forward and fell against a pew. She grabbed the back of the pew and held herself upright. "Don't be ridicule...ous."
"Why are you in the church and drunk?" Dana asked.
Jenny pointed one long accusatory finger at Dana. "I could ask you the same thing!"
"Ummm...I'm not drunk," Dana said. She squinted one eye at Jenny. "Have you been partaking in the blood of our Lord?"
"Ssshhhh," Jenny said, fanning her hand in the air. She almost toppled over before grabbing hold of the pew. She pointed the decanter toward the ceiling, whispering, "He can hear you." She giggled.
Ellen walked toward Jenny with her palms out, saying, "Do you need some help? I could make us all a pot of nice, hot, black coffee."
"I know you." Jenny blurted. "You're the mailman woman."
"That's right," Ellen said.
A siren wailed in the distance. Dana and Ellen looked at each other. "You didn't call the cops, did you?" Dana said.
Ellen shook her head. "Of course not."
"I did," Jenny said. "I heard you breaking in and called in the calvary."
"Cavalry, not calvary," Dana said.
"You think you're so smart," Jenny hissed. "You always thought you were better than the rest of us because you're Wonder Woman and went to college."
"This is a Halloween costume," Dana said.
Undeterred, Jenny continued, "Just 'cause your name's Dooley and you're so almighty pretty and you have big boobs."
"What?" Dana gasped.
"You're too good to be around us. Ever since high school, you think you're so...so...superior."
"Who thinks that?" Dana asked.
But Jenny was too busy passing out to answer. Before Ellen could catch her, Jenny nose-dived into the carpet. The decanter landed in the middle of the aisle.
"Ouch. That's gonna hurt," Ellen said.
Dana and Ellen watched the last of the wine leak onto the carpet like a pool of purple blood.
"She was jealous of me? Imagine that," Dana said, looking at Jenny's unmoving body.
The police siren was joined by another. And another. And another.
"Crapola," Dana said. "It does sound like the whole cavalry."
Ellen ran to Dana and took her hand. "You need to go. Fast," she said, guiding Dana toward the back exit.
But once they reached the hallway, Dana pulled Ellen up a narrow set of stairs. "Where we going?" Ellen asked.
"Brazil. Will you go with me?"
"I meant right now. Where do these stairs lead?"
"The bell tower probably. Will you go to Brazil with me?"
"Are you serious?"
"It could be like the end of a romance novel. We could raise fainting goats and live off goat cheese. You could grow vegetables in a garden in back of our bungalow."
"Fainting goats?"
"Sure, they're funny. You scare them and they faint. Rich people buy them for laughs. We'll get us a whole herd, breed them and sell them," Dana said.
"I don't know the first thing about goats."
They reached the top of the stairs. "I don't know anything about goats either," Dana said. "But we can learn." She opened a door and they walked out into the bright sunshine. "And I'll teach myself to crochet and make you cute sweaters. The kind with little leather patches on the elbows."
The sirens grew closer. Ellen looked up at the giant bell hanging right over their heads. She moved to the half-wall and leaned on it.
Dana stared at Ellen's back. "You don't want to go?"
"I'm still stuck on the fainting goats thing."
"It doesn't have to be goats. It can be sheep." Dana joined Ellen at the wall. Ellen wrapped an arm around her and they gazed out at the entire town of Dooley Springs laid out before them.
"Sheep faint too?"
"I don't know. If we scared them bad enough, they'd probably faint."
"How do you scare a sheep?"
"Boo, sheep! Boo!"
Ellen laughed. "That was scary."
"And with sheep, we could get our own wool that way."
"For you to crochet me little sweaters."
"Uh huh."
"So, if we're going to Brazil, why'd you bring me up here?"
Dana grew serious. "I'm tired of running. I've spent my whole life running."
"From what?"
Dana looked away and whispered, "Myself, I think."
They watched as three, four, five police cars screeched into the parking lot below them with their sirens still wailing. A long line of cars pulled in after them. It looked like the entire town had followed the police to the church. The parking lot quickly filled up.
Dana turned to Ellen. "Listen, Ellen. I have a confession. I'm not who you think I am."
"You're not Wonder Woman? Well, then, that's a deal breaker."
Dana took Ellen's hand. "No, I'm not really an alcoholic. I was only pretending to be."
After a long moment, Ellen whispered, "But why?"
"Because I wanted to be around you. I thought if we had something in common…"
"So you pretended to...have a disease?"
"Well, it's not like I told you I had elephantiasis or something. It arose organically," Dana explained.
"Telling everybody at the AA meeting that your dad was fried in a chimney as Santa Claus was organic?"
"I really Dooleyed this one up. I'm so sorry. You have every right to be mad."
"Actually I'm glad," Ellen said.
"You are?"
"Yeah, call me crazy, but I'm actually glad you're not an alcoholic. One of us is enough."
"You forgive me then?" Dana asked hopefully.
"Is there anything else you lied about? You're not really a man are you?"
Dana laughed. "No."
"Then I forgive you. But don't lie to me again."
"I won't," Dana said.
Ellen pulled Dana into her arms and kissed her.
The policemen jumped out of their cars. Leaving their doors open, they crouched down with weapons drawn and aimed right at the bell tower.
One policeman shouted into a megaphone, "Dana Dooley! Put your hands in the air!"
Dana laid her head on Ellen's shoulder. She looked out over the town and said, "Look, I can see my house from here."
Eighteen
An hour later, half the county was milling around the parking lot of the Last Chance Baptist Church. The news teams from Tulsa, Channels 7 and 5, had their news vans, cameramen and repo
rters interviewing people who claimed to know Dana personally. Channel 12 out of Oklahoma City even had its helicopter buzzing over the church getting long shots of all the action.
Most of the people were looky-loos, mingling peacefully, except for a contingent of Baptists that was shouting and throwing rocks at the bell tower like they were trying to stone Dana. The police had roped off the front doors and were busy trying to hold back the crush of people.
Up in the bell tower, Dana and Ellen were huddled on the floor against the wall.
"This is the end, I guess," Dana whispered. "I have to give myself up."
"But you didn't do anything. You didn't kill her."
"I know that. But they all think I did. Everyone down there hates me."
"It's not you they're hating. It's more like they're hating on who they think you are."
"People have always hated me."
"That can't be true."
"It is true. They hate me because I'm fat. They look at me and see their worst fear."
"I don't know where you're getting this fat thing from. You are so not fat. And it's starting to piss me off that you think you are."
"C'mon, Ellen, look at me. I look like Wonder Woman on steroids."
"You do not! I think you're gorgeous and sexy!"
"You're just saying that to get in my unitard."
"So if I think you're gorgeous, what's that say about me? That you think I'm stupid?"
"No…"
"Let me ask you a question. Do you think I stink?"
"Stink?"
"You know, stink. Smell bad."
Dana leaned in and sniffed Ellen. "No."
"Well, all through school kids called me Smellin' Ellen. Does that mean I really stink?"
Dana laughed. "Really? They did?"
Ellen nodded. "I'll make you a deal. You don't call me Smellin' Ellen and I won't call you fat."
"Okay."
"You feel better now?"
Dana shrugged. "I can't change my self-image just like that."
"No, but you can try."
"Okay, I'll try."
"Try to see yourself through my eyes. My eyes see a gorgeous, sexy woman."
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