Getting Old Is Très Dangereux: A Mystery (26 page)

“Stanley” speaks. “You look good, Soph, but you put on a few pounds.”

Sophie sighs. “Crying over losing you. You know I tend to eat when I’m sad.”

“Stanley” comments as if he were looking her up and down. “You always was a good dresser. You
could take a belt and a buckle and a scarf and make a Hester Street outfit look like Fifth Avenue.”

“That’s ‘cause you taught me how. I miss you, poopsie. All the time.”

Bella, next to her, is clutching Sophie’s arm and sobbing.

“I gotta go, doll face, but a word of advice. Someone near is not your friend. Beware.”

And with that, “Stanley” is gone.

Ida is startled as Sophie whips her eyes around and stares into hers. “I know who my darling meant,” she says ominously. “So keep your distance.”

The guru ends the session and Sophie happily pays for the “long-distance phone call.”

Ida grits her teeth.
Just you wait
, she thinks.

WEDDING DAY MINUS TWO

W
hile Jack washes his car, he puts in a quick call to Morrie. It’s his chance to be able to speak to his son privately. Gladdy is busy with wedding plans. It’s not that he couldn’t make the call in front of her—he’s sure Gladdy wouldn’t mind—but this is his excuse to be alone and be more comfortable. As he dials, Lola and Tessie, arms full of shopping bags, walk by. Lola grins at him. Tessie blows him a kiss. This kind of overkill has been going on ever since he came downstairs. Neighbors smile at him. Or high-five him. Everyone is happy. His arm is tired from constant waving in return. The wedding news has spread like wildfire and the sense of excitement is in the air.

Morrie puts him on hold, says he’ll be right with him.

Sol and Hy trail behind their wives as they map out the races at Hialeah in today’s newspaper. They stop in front of Jack.

Hy leers. “So you’re really gonna do it, huh? You didn’t know when you were well off?”

Jack is benign. “Looks like it.”

Sol shakes his head. “It’s always better before the wedding ring tightens like a noose around the neck.”

Morrie comes back on the line. “Dad, are you still there?”

Jack indicates his cell phone to the guys. “Gotta take this. Thanks for your reassuring words.”

The two men amble off, pleased at their advice giving.

Jack works on the hubcaps, scrubbing hard. “It’s like a zoo around here, what with everyone having their own version of what to say about the weddings.”

“Breaks up the monotony. Gives them something new to gossip about.”

Jack can’t resist. “So, your dad is having a second wedding and he’s still waiting for your first.”

“I’m working on it. I have a hot date tonight with a gal I met on the Internet.”

“Have you actually seen her?”

“Not yet. Only judging from a photo. But it’s hit
or miss. My last blind date lied about her age, her weight, the color of her hair, and her job.”

“And still you keep taking chances?”

“Hope springs eternal. Hey, we all lie a bit. Lying seems to be a national sport these days.”

Jack washes the car windows. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

There’s a pause. Morrie says, “Go ahead, Dad. I know you want to ask.”

“You’re right. I do. How is she doing? Is she all right with the other men guarding her?”

“What did you say to Michelle when you turned her down? She’s so quiet now. Not complaining about the guards I assigned to her, both inside and outside her room. She seems listless, like she’s just marking time until she and Colette can leave. Which, by the way, will be on the day you and Gladdy get hitched.”

“I’m glad she’s all right. How did she take it when you filled her in about The Snake?”

“Again, almost disinterested. She just wants to go home.”

“And still no sign of him?”

“It’s a puzzle. Nothing’s happening. It’s too quiet. I thought he’d make his move by now. Maybe he’s laying low because you spotted him. The entire security staff at the hotel is on full alert. I’ve also posted extra men around the
building and they’re canvassing the whole area. I wonder where he is.”

The Snake paces his crummy hotel room, holding a plastic bag full of ice to one side of his cheek. He’s totally frustrated by how things are going. This job should have been done by now, but his redheaded target is surrounded by
flics.
He’s certain that cop in the hotel guessed it was him. Now he has to rework his plan. Not that that would deter The Snake. What’s making him crazy is this damned Florida. He’s allergic to everything that grows here. Every flower makes him sneeze! To make matters worse, first he had to get glasses and now this—the pain in his tooth is getting worse by the hour. Getting old, he decides, is the pain in the derrière
.

An hour later, The Snake climbs the rickety steps leading to the office of Dr. Horace H. Holiday. The building needs paint and repair. There’s an easy alley getaway. The whole street smells of garbage. Good. The Snake has chosen from the yellow pages well. He couldn’t appear in some flashy main street office with too many possible witnesses
.

At least it’s clean inside, and even better, the dentist’s white coat doesn’t carry the bloodstains of former patients. He probably doesn’t even have many patients. The Snake sums up the man
quickly: Overfed. Anxious. Too eager to please. Obviously has no receptionist. File folders lying around. A quantity of old coffee in cardboard cups
.

The Snake adopts a pathetic lost-tourist act, heavily accenting his English, pretending not to know the language well. He can see the gleam in Dr. Holiday’s greedy eyes; certain he’s deciding how much he will rip him off. Pretending stupidity, The Snake effusively thanks the man for seeing him on such short notice. “You are saving the life of me.”

The dentist says with false cheer, “Not at all. Always glad to show foreign visitors our Florida hospitality.” The Snake introduces himself as
M. Merde,
knowing this fool won’t know what the offensive word means. He takes enjoyment from these little games he plays
.

The Snake sits down rigidly in the dentist’s chair. He is relieved to see the man scrub his hands, and then put on latex gloves. His instruments are waiting in a sanitizing dish. The Snake breathes a sigh of relief. He’d hate to die, poisoned by this hack
.

After placing a relatively clean paper bib around his neck, Dr. Holiday smiles broadly. “Now, Mr. Merd, let’s take care of your little problem.” Holiday opens his new client’s mouth and pokes around with his pick
.

The Snake watches with amusement as the
man’s smile turns to horror. He actually stutters. “When is the last time you saw your dentist back home?”

He pretends to be ashamed. “I don’t know. Maybe 1964? About the last time I went to church.” He chuckles. Another good one
.

The dentist leaves him for a moment, to hurriedly search his cabinets “I need my camera. I must have a picture of your rotting mouth for the next ADA meeting. It’s one for the record books.”

The Snake’s eyes narrow. “Come back here. No pictures.”

Dr. H.H.H. is dismayed. He returns to the chair. “In the interests of science—”

“Just pull the bad tooth.”

“But you don’t understand. There are at least a hundred hours of work in this mouth of yours. I hardly know where to begin. This abscessed tooth—”

“Get the damned tooth out.”

Dr. H.H.H. doesn’t realize he is about to make the biggest mistake of his life. He glares at The Snake. “Shame on you! These are the worst teeth I’ve seen in forty years. You’re an embarrassment.”

The dentist fails to notice the narrowing eyes of his patient. He continues to poke around The Snake’s mouth in fast cadence with his growing lecture. “You old people don’t understand how important it is to floss! Sure, getting old is the pits
,
but that’s no excuse for laziness. I’ll bet you haven’t checked your prostate recently, either. I’ll bet it’s as big as the Dolphins’ stadium.”

The Snake leaps up toward him and grabs him by the collar and tightly holds on. “Just pull the damn tooth.”

Surprised and suddenly frightened, the dentist stutters, “Of-of course. Whatever you say.” He tries to pull away. “I must prepare your anesthetic. We wouldn’t want you to feel any pain.”

“You want to give me laughing gas?” His eyes are slits by now. He tightens his grip on the dentist’s neck. The Snake smiles, and it’s not a pretty sight, what with those awful teeth. He can tell by the rolling of the man’s eyes that the dentist’s mind is hysterically trying out ways to save himself from this possible nutcase
.

“Nobody treats The Snake with disrespect!” With that he pulls out his knife and presses it to the dentist’s neck. A tiny smidgen of blood seeps down onto the formerly clean smock. The man gasps
.

“Just do it!”

Even though his hands are shaking, the dentist manages to get the job done. In the moment that The Snake’s hand loosens in response to the pain, Holiday makes a run for it. But as ever, The Snake is faster. He leaps out of the chair
.

“Please don’t hurt me. Listen, this is free of charge. Please—”

The Snake grabs him
.

The dentist looks into The Snake’s face, terrified now. “Why are you doing this? If you don’t want anyone to know you were here—you weren’t. Honest. I never saw you. I had no patients today.”

He babbles. “I didn’t even hear you mention your name, Mr. Merd.” And sweats as he tries unsuccessfully to escape. “I have a divorced wife. Expensive alimony payments. Four children. One ready to go off to school. Do you know what that costs these days? Of course I wanted him to go to dental college, but you know kids … ”

“Then I hope you carry a lot of life insurance.” With that, The Snake lets his trusty knife carry out its usual excellent work
.

Dr. Horace H. Holiday’s last dying thought is that his patient’s English had improved considerably
.

As The Snake leaves the dentist’s office, popping stolen pain pills, he begins to plot his new plan to finish the job. First, he will look for a suitable dinner companion
.

WEDDING DAY MINUS ONE

E
arly in the morning, when the New York-to-Fort Lauderdale red-eye arrives, Jack, Evvie, and Joe stand at my side. Morrie wanted to come and greet his sister, but he couldn’t get away. We stand excitedly outside the baggage claim area, waiting for our three family groups to arrive. Joe even has his camera ready.

Here they come. Joe and Evvie’s daughter Martha and her husband, Elliot, rush toward us. Right behind them is Jack’s daughter Lisa and her hubby, Dan, and their two boys. The new baby stayed home with Dan’s folks. And right on their heels, there’s my daughter Emily with her Alan and my four wonderful grandkids.

After the big group hug and many happy shots
taken with Joe’s camera, much laughing and much posing, the entire gang suddenly moves backward away from us. What’s this?

They line up as best they can despite the interruptions of passengers’ goings and comings at the terminal. Arms around one another, they wait for a signal. My Emily gives it with a wave of her hand and a cry. “Now!”

A chorus of familial voices shout out in unison, “What took you so long?”

Back at Lanai Gardens, Ida stands legs apart, hands on hips, in front of the girls. She is annoyed. “You have to come with me.”

Sophie mimics her position. “Well, we’re not going. We have a hundred things to do today. We need to get our hair done. And do our cooking for the wedding. Right, Bella?”

Bella nods her head vehemently. “Right. And besides, the Cane Fu wedding rehearsal is starting in twenty minutes. And you have to be there, too.”

Ida pulls a sour face. She thinks the idea of copying West Point, using canes to make an archway under which the brides and grooms will walk, is silly. “Well, I haven’t made up my mind if I’m going to do it or not.”