“Could
you start at the beginning again Miz Baumann?”
“Miss.”
“Excuse
me?”
“I’m
not a Miz, just a plain ol’ Miss. Or
Winifred or even just Winnie. Miz makes
me sound like something I’m not. Do you
know where my uncle is? He’s supposed to
let me know what the doctors say.”
“He’ll
be back when we finish getting your statement.”
“Huh? Wait.
You mean … you mean I can’t see him and find out about Aunt Rachel? But you’re like, I don’t know, the fifth or
sixth policeman I’ve given a statement to.”
“Miz
… Miss Baumann, things will go a lot smoother if you would just cooperate.”
“I’ve
been cooperating. I just need to know
how my aunt is. Are you like saying I
need a lawyer or something?”
A
woman in a business suit broke in and said, “No one has said that. Do you think you need a lawyer?”
“Oh
geez, not this routine again. You gotta
be feds. Look, you know who I am. I told everyone who has asked me. I guess my name is on some dumb list because
of the riots. Fine. Whatever.
Just instead of assuming I’m guilty of something ignorant could you just
ask me straight out instead of going in circles? I’m tired and I haven’t even had a glass of
water since we got here.”
The
woman got a very shark like grin on her face and said, “Oh you’re good but your
little innocent act won’t fly. I know
all about the football team Sweets.”
Getting
irritated I said, “Ok, that’s it. Get
one of those women’s health doctors … a gynecologist.”
“You
got an STD or something? You pregnant
and gonna try and use that as an out?”
“No. I’m gonna settle that stupid rumor once and
for all because I … have … had …it. None
of those jocks would have touched me with a ten foot pole anyway. Why would they? They were all getting it regular from
multiple other sources. Dinah
Huffstetler just got mad ‘cause her boyfriend’s tutoring meant he was no longer
available to drive her home from cheerleading practice in his new Camaro. I don’t care how much it embarrasses me at
this point. I just want it over with.”
I
stood there tapping my foot.
The
man chuckled like some fuzzy kitten had just hissed. “Ok, let’s assume you’re telling the
truth. What about the smoke bombs at the
football game? Why get your revenge if
you weren’t guilty of anything?”
I
shook my head. It was all just a repeat
of the crap from last time. “First off
they were smoke – or smudge – pots. POTS
… not bombs. They were placed on either
side of this paper banner that was a back drop for our pep squad’s dance
routine. Our pep squad had to buy new
uniforms that year because of the dress code change in the district and they
could only afford really wimpy special effects for their routines and they
wanted to go to competition so were saving what money they had in their budget
for that. Well one of the girls on the
squad had a brother in our AV club and she asked if we could come up with some
stuff to help out since we always did the special effects for the drama
club. The guys really … I mean stupid
right? … thought if they helped the girls they might get a date. Not just stupid but royally ignorant but
that’s guys for you … even the smarts ones have a one track mind when it comes
to long lashes and short skirts. So we
played with some formulas … had to smoke but no flame ‘cause of the paper
banner … and we found a great one. It
gave out tons of cool colored smoke, no flame or even heat, and it wasn’t even
toxic to the environment.”
I
sighed and slid into the chair I had vacated a moment before. “Only we hadn’t figured on the wind … or the
fact that it would blow the smoke right into the opposing team’s varsity cheer
squad. Please note I said the other
team’s cheer squad, not ours so there is no possible revenge factor. And even that might have been ok except they
were in the middle of taking pictures for their yearbook and had this sticky,
sparkly crap in their hair and … well the tempera powder that we used to color
the smoke hit sticky and got stuck. Then
everything went totally crazy. They
started screaming … not ‘cause they were scared but because they were mad. But their moms don’t know this and for some
dumb reason automatically assume terrorist attack. To make a long story short …”
“Oh
let’s do,” the female agent said snidely.
I
gave her the look her comment deserved and continued. “To make a long story short the whole AV club
got sentenced to 80 hours of volunteer work each and that was in addition to
having to scrub both the girls’ and boys’ locker rooms at their school. And rich they might have been but they were
still disgusting little skid marks with BO.
So thanks for making me relive one of the most humiliating chapters of
my life … make that two of the most humiliating chapters of my life since you
brought up the rumors that I did the wild thang with the football team. Especially considering you could have found
all of this out by reading the court minutes of the trial of the girls who
almost killed me, which according to a bunch of dumb reporters is what sparked
the riots around the country.”
I
sat there looking at them and they continued to look at me until the woman’s
cell phone went off and she looked at it.
After listening for a moment she closed it with a snap and turn to her
partner and told him, “The kid is going to live.”
She
sounded so relieved I got furious all over again. “You’re more concerned that a man …man, not
kid since he’s twenty-one and older than I am … you’re more concerned about a
criminal that had a gun pointed at an old lady, then kicked her cane making her
fall, than you are about the old lady?!!”
A
voice behind me said, “I’ll take that statement. Great sound bite.”
I
didn’t even have to puzzle out who the guy was.
“What is this? A reunion? I told you when you snuck into my hospital
room the last time I didn’t’ want to talk to you. And I don’t want to talk to you now
either. Go away.”
“No. If these officers …”
“They
aren’t cops; their feds. So stop doing
whatever you are trying to do. I’m no
martyr to your stupid cause! And I don’t
want trouble!”
A
couple of real police officers hustled the guy out. I said to no one in particular, “I just want
to know how my aunt is. You tell me and
we’ll go over the stupid statement again.”
“You
use the word stupid excessively.”
I
told the woman, “Because the whole world has gotten excessively stupid. Nobody can seem to get along and just keep
their noses out of other people’s business.
Not countries, not governments, not religions, not people. Everyone is growing a giant cancerous tumor
of stupid.”
The
man, who seemed to be playing the “good cop” since his partner did “bad cop” so
well said, “Why don’t you come sit back down and write out your statement for
us? Then it’ll be over with?”
I
lifted my right hand out of the pocket of the scrubs that I was wearing because
my clothes had been taken for evidence and said, “I would except as you can see
I’m kinda taped into a splint here where the guy stomped on my hand when I
tried to crawl over to my Aunt.”
Both
of them blinked and looked through a couple of sheets of paper on the table
before the woman asked suspiciously, “It’s broken? There’s nothing in the report.”
“I
haven’t got the foggiest,” I snapped.
“Every time someone tried to take me to x-ray one of you guys wants
another statement because apparently no one can read each other’s handwriting.”
“We
can’t take a statement until the drugs are out of your system.”
“What
drugs?!” I shouted, then yelped as I banged my hand on the table. “I havent’ even taken a Tylenol. My hand is thumping like crazy except for my
fingers which I can’t feel anymore because the tape on the splint is too tight
and they’re all a funny purple color … and … and …”
I
was not going to cry. Was not. But then I did. Things got kind of confusing after that as
Uncle Carmichael and Cliff who had been standing out in the hallway burst in
when I got kind of loud. Uncle
Carmichael alone can be pretty imposing but pair him with Cliff and imposing
goes up several notches. Plus they both
had practice from where I’d basically been held captive in the hospital before.
Purple fingers, not good. Thank you so much Kathy.
ReplyDeleteKathy Thanks for more of this one.
ReplyDeleteWayne
Kathy Thanks for more of this one.
ReplyDeleteWayne
I am just loving this story. Thanks.
ReplyDeletePssst, Kathy how many feds do you know?
'Cause you certainly nail them in appearance and behavior.