Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“It’s okay, Booty Sue. That’s a good girl.” Dad’s voice drifts from the kitchen.
Granny sneaks up behind us, whispers, “Don’t panic, Sharon. Get the pepper spray,” and causes both Mom and me to nearly leap out of our skin.
“I don’t have pepper spray,” Mom hisses.
“The mace then.”
“Why would I have a mace if I don’t have pepper spray?” Mom says exasperatedly.
“Tasers?”
“No!”
“Well, fudge finklestinks,” Granny curses under her breath. “We’d better improvise. Quick! You put the kettle on. Samual, find the vinegar and load it into a spray bottle. I’ll go out there and talk to them, and then bam! You hit them first in the eyes with the caustic spray, and then double wham, you throw the boiling water at them.”
“Oh my god! Where do you get these ideas from? Should I be worried?”
“Every night is true crime night at the nursing home. The more violent, the better!” Granny’s salacious smile is too much, but not nearly as bad as the continued hammering at the door.
“Are you watching true crime or slashers?” I have to ask. It’s a valid question.
“What’s the difference?”
The banging gets louder.
“Start feeding those goldfish ground beef. Maybe they’ll get a taste for flesh and can be useful in disposing a body.”
“Mother! They’re not piranhas.”
Granny rolls her eyes like all of those are perfectly reasonable solutions, and we’re the ones being difficult. “Unless you have a better plan, get the vinegar and water! Now!”
With that said and something clearly decided in her mind, Granny makes for the door at lightning speed. Granny lightning speed, I should clarify. She shuffles her feet in the most adorable way, her pink loafers and bright floral dress from another era shuffling in tune with her cane.
My mom and I are still too frozen to move until Granny does the most unthinkable thing and throws the front door wide open. We stare at each other, sharing a few seconds of terror and disbelief, then rush to get it shut.
Yeah, nope.
There really are three thugs there, all muscly and clad in black, the exact token kind of thuggish exterior, grimaces, and square jaws that you’d expect from men sent to collect money by any means possible. Their leader has his booted foot out and is braced to stop us from shutting the door. Honestly, if we did, I’m pretty sure he’d just break it down anyway.
My dad scoots up behind us and places a hand on my mom’s shoulder and one on mine. Behind him, Booty Sue pants and whimpers. She’s not the intimidating German Shepherd variety by any means.
My plan is to try to reason with these guys. What else can we do? If we sass them like I can tell Granny’s getting ready to do, it will likely only increase their rage by ten thousand percent, and they already look like they’re rocking a combined rager of a rage fest all on their own.
My plan goes directly to shit when Granny whips out her cane and smacks Thug One straight on the shin.
“Ouch!” He leaps back, rubbing the sore spot. “You old hag! What was that for?”
“You’re standing on our doorstep, ready to grind our bones to dust to pay a debt that isn’t even ours, and you’re asking me what that little tap was for? My goodness, son, do you think I’m senile? Try respecting your elders next time and ring the doorbell like your mother taught you some manners.”
“I don’t have a mother,” he snaps back.
That softens Granny a little. “That would explain a lot. If you’d like to learn, it’s never too late. Come on down to the nursing home. There are a ton of lonely old people there in need of some family. I think you’d be good for each other.”
Ugh, that’s Granny. Forever the bleeding soul, even for thugs who want to kill us.
“Never mind that, you old biddy,” the jerkus snaps, clearly not one to be converted with the whole kindness deal.
“You’re going to let us in, or we’re going to burn down your house,” Thug Two declares, pushing Thug One aside. He’s sucking in air so hard that all the veins in his forehead are bulging.
“Whoa, Nate, we didn’t talk about that,” Thug One protests, setting a hand on Thug Two’s arm as though he can restrain him, but Thug Two is clearly a rabid raccoon, frothing at the mouth.
“Yeah, that wasn’t in the instructions. I think that would call too much attention to the boss, and he wouldn’t like that,” Thug Three says, shuffling his feet at the back.
“Don’t use my real name, fucktard!”
“Don’t swear in front of old ladies!” Thug One shouts back.
I have to do something before this gets even more out of control than it already is. I step up beside Granny and slip my arm around her waist. I’m like Thug One, trying to hold her back. “We don’t have the money to pay. I don’t care what was promised to you, but we’re not the ones responsible.”