by Lois Winston
PREFACE
Currently there is a notable international Flash Fiction contest. The concept; write the shortest short story you can imagine using six words. Ernest Hemingway, in his short story collection, In Our Time, might have been the first to publish one that has become famous. “For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.”
However, attribution has been argued through the years. Other possible forerunners were The Algonquin round table. “Terse tales of the town,” in 1906. A long list of others, going as far back as Aesop’s Fables.
But I choose to pay un homage to Mr. Hemingway, by having each of my novella’s chapter headings a flash fiction six-word story.
Thanks to my dear friend, Teresa LeYung, for allowing me to, once again, become the owner of the Brown Pelican Inn in Key West, Florida.
Hoping that the Key West Police Department won’t be offended by my fictitious police officers, I mean no harm; after all this is a comedy farce.
Thanks to my ever-wonderful sons, Howard and Gavin. Always there for me.
And thanks to all my loyal Gladdy Gold fans. You will love Papa’s Ghost.
PROLOGUE
Death by Marlin. Fish is Winner.
Robert Strand 61, of Key West, enjoying another fabulous day of fishing on the Gulf of Mexico, always used to say, “If I gotta die, I wanna die fishing.” Yes, Robert, your wish is about to come true, but with a slight revision—you are going to die with the fishes.
Robert wore his lucky baseball cap, The Miami Marlins, what else? Ditto, his beat-up old sweatshirt. Same logo. His boat was named Marlin Honey. That made it a triple threat, a sure thing. He knew today would be his big day, fish-wise.
The largest blue marlin of his life now pulled on his line and he intended to catch it in reality and also for eternity. This was his big chance. What Robert waited forty years of fishing for – the Florida competition with its winning trophy for landing the biggest fish of the year. With one hand clutching onto his fishing rod with all his strength, the other hand clicked a selfie photo on his iPhone.
He captured his gloriously happy face and the monster marlin’s beady eye and spear-like snout, as it hung almost on top of him. With an immediate “Send” to his four best fishing buddies, all of whom were too busy to fish today. That’ll show them what they missed by bowing out. He could hardly wait to see their jealous faces. Eat your hearts out, guys.
But, hey, what? No! He screamed! What was this? No, not possible. Suddenly, death was coming to take him. He clutched at his bleeding gut as the camera clicked again and fell from his helpless hand onto the deck.
His last dying thought, well, the marlin must have probably been only an 800 pounder. That wouldn’t win the biggest fish of year contest. The Florida record stayed at 1,046.
ONE
Guys Going Away. Girls Left Behind.
Hello again. I’m Gladdy Gold. Just to catch you up. I live in Lanai Gardens, a pleasant multi- acre retirement residence in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Off of Oakland Park Blvd., in case you want to visit.
It’s been a fine retired life so far. My three girls, my sister, and I are in our seventies and eighties, and relatively well, thank God. With the usual aches and pains. No point complaining. Nobody will listen. My girls? We still call ourselves that, though the politically correct address is “women.” But we’re of the old school. We’d be happy if there was no Facebook or any tweeting. The good old days are what we cherish.
Either we live next door to each other, or one flight down, even across the courtyard. We can see each other out our windows, but that doesn’t stop my girls calling me up numerous times during the day. We are like one big family, each living in our own private apartment.
A lot’s happened in the last few years. Both Evvie and I have remarried. Evvie’s my sister. Younger by three years. Something we never would have imagined might happen in our twilight years. I’m married to an ex-cop gorgeous hunk. Jack was a widower and we found love was still possible no matter how old you get. Evvie remarried her first husband, Joe, whom she used to hate. That’s a story and a half.
But let me tell you about Gladdy Gold and her Associates, Private Eyes. We found out that keeping busy and doing useful things is a way to stay young. And we discovered we were good at something unexpected. We were good at detecting. We realized older people were invisible to those younger and they needed representation. Our motto; Never Trust Anybody Under Seventy-five. That got us lots of clients.
But, sorry, I’m digressing. Here we are in the parking lot, waving goodbye to our hubbies who are climbing into a bus that will take them to the Miami airport. And from there on a plane to Africa! Our guys are going on a safari. This is an all-male macho adventure with most of the men in all of Lanai Gardens making the trip. In our own Phase Two, all the men are on board, even Sol Spankowitz, who’s terrified of everything, especially his new wife, Big Tessie. Tessie has tried every diet on the planet and failed. Because she always quit after the first day. We’re betting he’s taking the trip to get away from her.
The only male staying home is that pesky curmudgeon, Hy Binder. His excuse? He’s afraid of big animals. And he doesn’t like tents. Hates eating outdoors. He’s got a long list of don’t-likes. Truth is – he’s too cheap to go. Peek-a-boo, there he is hiding behind his long-suffering wife, Lola.
My girls and PI partners are here, too, for the sendoff. They should also be hiding, given the bad mood they’re in these days. There’s Ida, she of the cranky, negative disposition is even crankier. And Sophie and Bella. I always think of them as a double. We call them the Bobbsey twins. Sophie, all about color co-ordination. Bella, our childlike innocent. They are inseparable. Even they are sulking. I know what their group problem is and I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Like Scarlet O’Hara, who said problems should be put off ‘til tomorrow.
So Evvie and I see our husbands off, “Have a great trip,” we call out. They smile and wave to us. And off they go. I miss Jack already. And in a matter of moments, Hy is at our side, chipper and offensive.
Rubbing his hands, gleefully, something he does when he’s up to no good, he addresses the five of us. “Well, I guess I’m gonna be one of the girls for a while. What fun. We can all hang out together and have a hot time in the old town.”
Ida whispers loud enough to be heard, “Fat chance.”
Evvie, with hands on her hips. “Don’t think we’re your harem.”
Big eyes pretending honesty, he gives us a greasy smile. “Think of me as the leader of the pack. The Alpha male.”
“Ha,” Sophie grimaces. “Then go hang out with hyenas. Not us.”
Evvie points. “Oops. Here comes the mailman. We gotta run.”
And off we race, as best we can, with arthritic legs. Off to our mailboxes. A ho-hum daily event, but right now a great excuse to escape annoying Hy.
The girls crowd eagerly around my mailbox first. I hesitate.
Evvie asks, “Do you think there’ll be another one today?”
“I hope not.”
Sophie hugs Bella in her excitement. “Hurry up. Open it.”
Ida shows indifference.
I open the box, and yes, it’s there. Another envelope postmarked from Key West. I say envelope, not “mail.” The girls hold their breath. Sure enough, another white sheet of paper is enclosed. With no writing on it. Not one single word.
This is the fifth of these non-letters I’ve gotten this month. What is this? Some kind of prank?
We hash it over again; everyone has an opinion.
Ida. “Some dumb kids.”
Sophie. “A mystery.”
Evvie. “I haven’t got a clue.”
Bella giggles. “You have a secret admirer. Sending you secret love letters. So secret, you can’t even read them.”
Leave it to Bella to put a spin on it.
TWO
Bored, Am I Ever Bored. Deliver Me.
Tomorrow is here and time to deal with my problem. The girls are bored. Some people, when they ar
e bored look to other things to keep them involved. Go to a movie. Buy a new outfit. Read a book. Color, a new craze, kids’ coloring books. And don’t color out of the lines. Not this trio. Not so much, Evvie. She just keeps her boredom to herself. Just my triple pests. They are vocal.
We take our daily morning walk around the perimeter of our condos, and what do I hear, loud and clear, is:
Sophie, “This is so dreary”
Ida, “We see the same old trees and grass every day.”
Bella, “And the same old, old people.” She always adds a coda. “We need new old people. But where would we get them?”
Here’s a new wrinkle. We see Hy creeping up on us. It’s playtime for Bonzo and we’re not having any. We are passing the nearest outdoor bathroom, so we hurry into the Ladies Room and hide. We wait long enough until we think he’s given up.
We peek. Oops. Still standing there. Back, we lurch, we need to wait some more.
Finally he’s gone. We exit, and they are once again wailing their favorite kvetchings.
Sophie, “This is so dull.”
Ida, “Same old, same old…
Et cetera.
We go to play Bingo, the trio’s absolutely favorite pastime in the entire world. I have to fairly drag them home after a regular four-hour exhausting, numbing session at the Bingo Palace. Now I get:
Ida, “This game is rigged. Nobody can lose as often as we do. It’s not fair.”
Sophie, “That Lolly Finster wins twice and we don’t win once. It’s not fair.
Bella, “I was on three times. And that woman who sits next to me always gets the number I need. It’s not fair.”
And who should show up just as we’re leaving? His arms filled with game packs. His pocket, with daubers of many different colors. A big grin on his face. Ready to join us. You-know who. Hy, the guy. We wave at him as we walk out on him.
And the beat goes on.
~*~
And what about shopping? Mention a trip to the Sawgrass Mills shopping mall, and I usually have to drag them out of there at closing. Now:
Sophie, “I can’t find anything I like. Let’s go home.”
Ida, “The sales girls are just plain rude. Let’s go home.”
Bella, “I saw one thing I like. . .” The other two glare at her. She bends to their will. “Let’s go home.”
And who should be running to catch up to us? Shopping bags flopping against his flabby hips. Sorry, we’re done. Hy, the silly stalker. Foiled again.
And more of the same.
~*~
We are sitting at an outdoor patio under our favorite palm tree. Playing cards, a daily happy habit. Not anymore.
Playing Canasta. Turned into a real spite and real malice kind of game.
Ida, “Cheater!”
Sophie, “You’re the cheater.”
Bella. A whisper. “Please girls, don’t fight.”
Ida to Sophie, “ Why don’t you just grab her hand, and save your eyes the trouble of looking!”
Sophie to Bella, “Don’t play the jack, honey, bunny. She’ll take you down.”
Bella, “Okay, I won’t.”
Ida, “And you know that she has a jack in her hand, how?”
They are at one another’s throats. This is getting really serious. Hy, carrying a boxed Jeopardy game, doesn’t dare come near us with all the screeching and threatening. He tip-toes away.
~*~
I take them to a new restaurant. A fancy one. I treat. This a huge incentive. They love going to restaurants. Anything, so as not to cook. Especially perfect if they don’t have to pay. You guessed it.
Sophie “My Chicken Cacciatore was cold.”
Ida, “Our waitress was rude.”
Bella, “My veal parm ..gin…parma jain, parma spaghetti was hard.”
I try to explain. “You had veal parmesan and pasta al dente.”
“Al Who?
“It’s all right. Forget it.”
Dessert is always a restaurant must. Unbelievable. They don’t want any. We go home. Depressed.
What is their problem? Why are they bored? Because Gladdy Gold and Associates hasn’t had a job in months. Insecurity has spread. The girls question themselves. Have we lost our touch? Will we ever detect again? They’re job junkies. They need a fix. Soon there will be bloodshed. I have to do something, but what?
~*~
We are in the pool, all of us doing our weekly aquatics exercise. A lackluster non-effort workout today. They look messy. The girls haven’t even bothered to comb their hair. They’re wearing old, stretched-out bathing suits. Ida has on an unattractive torn bathing cap. They don’t care how they look anymore. Depression has set further in.
And there he is. We are trapped at last. There’s no getting away from him this time. And Hy knows it. Is he going to jump in the pool with us? No. Thank goodness.
“Hey girls, lookie here.” he calls, smiling. We all turn to see what he wants.
With that he whips out a camera. The girls make stupid faces, shake their fists, and yell at him. “Say cheese,” he says undaunted. And in moments he’s snapped our photo. Once snapped, he skips merrily away. What was that about?
THREE
Hy’s Evil Revenge. Finally We’re Saved.
It doesn’t take long for us to find out what Hy was up to. By the end of the week, we suspect something is awry. Neighbors stare at us. Some of them point. Some snicker. Some giggle. But they don’t want to tell us why.
Big Tessie gives us the answer. We find her at her open, empty mailbox, looking perturbed. But first we need to listen to her gush about how much she misses her Sol. “Does he have Malaria yet? Is he eating healthy? They’re probably eating African food, whatever that is. Maybe ants or mosquitoes. I read about that. Has a tiger eaten them? Have you heard from Jack or Joe?” She doesn’t wait for our answer.
She blurts on, near tears. “I hear nothing. Not a letter, not a phone call. Not a text.”
Bella is impressed. “You know how to text?”
“Of course not,” She says with pride. “Do I look like the type who would own one of those hinky phones or even a computer? I’m low tech.”
I try to calm her. “I’m sure our men are fine and having a good time.”
Tessie sniffs, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Ida has had enough of her waffling. “Do you know what’s going on? Why is everyone looking at us funny?”
“Of course I know. It’s on the computer.
Evvie prompts her on. “What’s on the computer?”
Tessie’s on a roll. “Since I don’t own any computer, Lucy, next door to me, let me see it on hers. There were six of us watching. We all had a good time. You’re famous. Soon I’ll ask for your autograph or maybe you’ll make tee shirts. Make sure to carry extra large.”
Uh, oh, I think. This sounds ominous.
Evvie exchanges a worried look with me. She tells Tessie to go on. It’s like pulling teeth out of a raccoon. “Please tell us what you heard and saw.”
Tessie preens. Being the bearer of gossip is as good as it gets. Sly now. A spy disseminating vital information. “I don’t know what it means but Hy has ‘uploaded the video to his channel on You Tube.’” She stops.
Ida grabs her arm. “That’s it? What’s that about Hy? What’s a youtube?”
Sophie’s tone promises pain. “Get on with it, already, or else. . .”
Tessie continues to drag it out. “He took a movie of you in the pool and put it on that You Tube thing.” She stops again.
Ida hisses, twisting her arm. “Spit the rest out or I’ll hurt you.”
I look at my girls. I can hardly recognize them. Threats? Even Evvie is dismayed by their attitudes. “Now, now,” I say to cool the temperature down. “Let Tessie tell it in her own way.”
Tessie frees her arm from Ida and plops down on the nearest bench, fanning herself with her hand. She blabs, “He put that pool movie on the computer and under it, it says, ‘Hy’s Harem, For
t Lauderdale, Florida. Elderly broads on a bad hair day, in the pool.’”
Ida shrieks, “We’re his harem? That vonce! That bedbug!”
Tessie says, “They say it’s gone viral,” not having a clue about what that means.
Bella is confused. “He says we’re sick?”
We leave Tessie, and as of one mind, we all race upstairs to my apartment where our business computer lives.
We can hear Tessie calling out to our backs something about our being ungrateful and make sure we tell her when we hear from the husbands.
~*~
Out of breath, the girls egg me on to get my computer booted up. Evvie and I manage to figure out how to look for his channel. We find it on Hy’s Harem. He’s really on You Tube? Who knew? And there it is. Tessie saw and heard right. That goniff has uploaded a video of us in the pool. Looking awful. He’s making fools of us. Outrageous!
They’re screeching all at once.
Ida, “I’ll kill him. I shoulda never had that stupid bathing cap on.”
Bella, “We look awful.”
Sophie, “How dare he?”
Bella, “My hair is all knots.”
Sophie, “My bathing suit is torn at my tuchas.”