Freddy’s Fenders was a small used car dealership, located less than a mile from Jake’s house. Carnie left her car at Jake’s while she went down to give Freddy some business. She didn’t need a flashlight, thanks to the moonlight.
She was dressed in a cute little exercise outfit. She figured a sexy 29-year-old seen on the streets of Coreyville after dark might arouse suspicion. But not if Miss Sexy was jogging. Some wives might have to put their husbands’ eyes back in their sockets, but she didn’t mind that.
The sticks in her hands were not really sticks. They were poster tubes—one of which contained a large screwdriver. The ring of auto jiggler keys was in her pocket.
The tiny portable office building had not been portable in years. It had a small office, a bathroom and a little storage room. Once you were in Freddy’s office and he’d get between you and the door, you’d be hard pressed to escape without buying one of his junky cars.
A lamp illuminated the desk and little else, and a ‘Closed’ sign hung in the window. Most of the vehicles in the front lot had ‘$500 down’ scribbled across their sad faces. They seemed to sense they were past their prime—shined up to look their best despite their age. But Carnie had no interest in them. It was the dark blue full-size van that had caught her eye earlier in the day.
This is just too easy, she thought, as she reached into her pocket for the jiggler keys. The first key didn’t work. Neither did the second. She looked around to make sure there was still nobody watching. She tried several more. Key number six was the winner. She opened the door. Now she would use the screwdriver to pop the ignition and then work a little magic with the wiring and…
“Hold it right there,” said a rumbly low-pitched voice.
She turned around and saw Freddy himself—all 363 pounds worth, pointing a pistol at her.
“Hey, don’t point that thing at me,” said Carnie. “This is my van.”
“No, Missy, this is my van,” said Freddy. “And you are on my property, breaking into my van.”
Carnie started to cry. “But you don’t understand. When I broke up with Billy, he stole my van. I reported it to the police, but they haven’t done a thing to find it. So, I started searching all over Hallsville—that’s where I live. Then I looked in Marshall and Longview too. My sister’s been driving me all over the place trying to find it.”
“So, where is your sister?” Freddy looked around.
“She already left. I told her I would be fine, now that I found my van.”
“Well, I don’t care what you say. This van belongs to me and I have the paperwork to prove it. I’m calling the cops.”
“Oh, come on, Freddy. You are Freddy, right?”
“That’s right. And you don’t mess with Freddy or his cars,” he said as he flipped open his cell phone.
Carnie walked toward him.
“Stay back.” He pointed the gun at her head.
She ignored his warning and moved in closer and placed her hand on his chest and began to rub it lightly and gaze into his eyes. “Now Freddy, I’m sure we can work something out.”
“What are you doing?” Freddy was losing focus. He must call the cops, he thought.
Then she put her arms around his huge body. She still had a poster tube in her left hand.
Freddy was in a daze. When was the last time an incredibly sexy young woman put her arms around him and pressed her smoking hot body into his? Never. Was he still holding his cell phone? He wasn’t sure. And where was the gun? His hands were numb. But his arms were around her exposed midriff. He loved the feel of her smooth, tight skin.
Carnie removed the cap from the poster tube behind his back and pulled out the large screwdriver. She rubbed her breasts from side to side across his chest a couple of times, and said, “How’s that feel, Baby?”
“Don’t stop now,” he said.
“I wonder what would happen if I reached down into your pants?” she said, as she pulled back a little.”
Freddy didn’t speak. He just let his arms fall to his sides as she pulled away. Do whatever you want, Baby, he thought.
Carnie threw her right hand into the air.
By the time he looked up and saw the shiny, sharp object in her hand, it was too late to raise the gun or even step back. He was a dead man, and he knew it.
She thrust the screwdriver deep into his chest. She expected him to fall down, but he didn’t. For a moment she wasn’t sure she had hit the mark. He just stood there, dazed. Then he began to raise the gun.
She jumped toward him and grabbed the arm with the gun and tried to wrench it from his hand. But he twisted the pistol more and more toward her.
“Die, you fat butt!” she said, ripping her fingernails into his hand.
But her words made him stronger, more determined to kill her. Just a couple more inches over and he would blow a hole in her heart—if she even had one.
Carnie realized she was losing the battle. She could not overpower this bull of a man. She swung her right leg back like in high school. She had been captain of the soccer team. This one is for the win, she thought. She threw her leg forward with all her strength, and plunged her shoe up into his crotch. It was a kick that would have rocketed the ball way beyond the length of the field.
Freddy dropped the gun and his cell phone and rolled to the ground in excruciating pain. He was still breathing and moaning when she yanked the screwdriver out of his chest. The blood began to gush. He would be gone in a few seconds, she thought. Nobody would find the corpse until morning. She used his shirt to wipe off the screwdriver. Then she picked up the pistol. Too easy for the cops to get fingerprints off of it, she thought.
She climbed into the van, popped the ignition, started the engine, and drove to Jake’s house.
When she pulled into the driveway, Jake walked out to the van. “Where’d you get this thing?”
“From a buddy,” she said.
“A buddy?”
“Well, he was a buddy—for about a minute. Now he’s not. Get in.”
“Okay. Just a minute—I need to turn off some lights and lock the door.”
“Get in now!” said Carnie.
Jake walked around to the passenger’s side and got in.
“This thing stinks,” he said.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“Smells like your buddy used it to haul dead fish.”
“My buddy is a dead fish.”
Jake didn’t want to know what she was talking about, so he shut up.
Carnie pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot.
“Now, how are we going to pick up women here?” said Jake. “There’s a guard driving around the parking lot.”
“That guy on the little electric golf cart?”
“Yeah. He may be old, and he probably doesn’t even have a gun, but all he has to do is dial 911 and we’re in big trouble.”
“He’s not gonna be a problem.” Carnie parked the van.
“Here he comes.”
“Watch this,” she said, as she stepped out of the van.
She waved to the guard as he approached.
He saw her, and drove to where she was standing. “Do you need help, Ma’am? Dead battery? Flat tire?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you. I just wanted to tell you I’m meeting both of my grandmothers here and taking them out for a fancy dinner. They think they’re coming to help me pick out some material for drapes. In fact, neither of them knows the other’s coming.”
“I see.”
“I hope that’s okay. Because I know we’re really not supposed to do that. You’re only supposed to park here if you’re shopping at Wal-Mart.”
The old guard smiled. “Well, Honey, don’t worry. It’ll just be our little secret.” He winked at her.
“Oh, you’re wonderful. Thanks so much.”
“No problem. Have a nice time with your grandmothers.” He drove away.
*
“Well, at least everything’s out of the truck,” said Greg.
“Sorry about your garage,” said Beverly to her daughter. “I didn’t realize I had so much stuff.”
“That’s okay, Mom,” said Cynthia. “I don’t mind parking my car outside for a while.”
“Y’all getting hungry?” said Greg.
“I could eat a horse,” said Beverly.
“What did you have in mind, Sweetie?” said Cynthia to Greg. “I’m pretty grungy. I don’t think I’d want to go out to eat.”
“Why don’t we order pizza?” said Greg.
They agreed on a large pepperoni, and Greg pulled out his cell phone and walked out of the room to call in their order.
“Honey, would you mind helping me with my hair in the morning?” said Beverly.
“Sure, Mom.”
“I want it to fix it up nice for church. So, I really need to wash it tonight. When we finish eating I’ll run down to Wal-Mart and get some more of my shampoo.”
“You don’t need to go out tonight. I have shampoo.”
“No, Honey, there’s a special brand I use. It’s the only kind that works right for me.”
“Okay. I’ll go with you,” said Cynthia.
“Oh, don’t be silly. You just said you were too grungy to go out.”
“But I hate for you to go out alone at night—”
“—now wait a second. If I had known you were going to treat me like a child when I moved in with you, I would have just stayed in Marshall.”
“Alright, fine. Go by yourself.”
“That’s more like it,” said Beverly.
They both smiled. This living together thing would take some work, but they knew they could do it.