“Bet they've got doughnuts in there,” Lula said.
“What about your intestinal problem? Maybe you want to wait and see how it goes with the burger and fries.”
“I suppose you're right, but I sure would like to have some doughnuts.”
I had to admit, doughnuts seemed like a pretty good idea on a drizzly day.
“Course there's some advantage to having an intestinal disturbance,” Lula said. “Those doughnuts probably wouldn't stay with me long enough to find a home on my ass.”
“Better take advantage of the opportunity.”
Lula had her purse in her hand. “That's exactly what I'm thinking.”
I stayed in the car and watched through the window as Lula picked out a dozen doughnuts.
She handed the doughnuts and the coffees off to me and settled behind the wheel. I chose a Bavarian cream and took a chomp. Lula did the same. She took a second doughnut.
“Have you seen Jackie?” I asked Lula. “Is she still with the program?”
“She's going to the clinic. Problem is, you can make a person do the program, but you can't make them take it serious. Jackie don't believe in herself enough to take the program serious.”
“Maybe that will change.”
“I sure hope so. I'm lucky because I was born with a positive personality. Even when things aren't looking too good, I don't let myself get beaten down. I just start pushing and shoving. Pretty soon I'm so loud and full of bullshit I just forget about being scared. Jackie wasn't born with such a positive personality. Jackie's more a negative person. She pulls all inside herself.”
“Not always,” I said. “She was pretty extroverted when it came to drilling holes in Cameron Brown.”
Lula gazed into the doughnut box, thinking ahead to doughnut number three. "Yeah. She had a good time on that one. I know it wasn't right what she did to the dead, but I gotta admit, I sort of liked seeing her make old Cameron jump around. She's gotta learn to take charge more like that.
"See, Jackie and me, we've both been beat on a lot. That's the way it is when you haven't got a daddy, and your mama's a crackhead. There's always lots of uncles coming and going and getting high. And when they get high they beat on you.
“Trouble now is that Jackie's still letting people beat on her. She doesn't know she can make it stop. I try to tell her. I tell her to look at me. Nobody's gonna beat on me ever again. I've got self-respect. I'm gonna do something with my life. I might even go to college someday.”
“You could do it. Lots of people return to school.”
“Fuckin' A,” Lula said.
I drank my coffee and looked out the rain-streaked window. Cars drove by in abstract motion. Blurry images and smeary flashes of bright red taillights.
A car pulled out of the underground parking garage across the street. It was a tan sedan with something long and black strapped to the roof. I cracked my window for a better look. Rug, I thought. All rolled up and covered with a plastic tarp.
The driver reached a hand out, checking to see if his cargo was secure. The door opened, and the driver stepped out to make an adjustment.
Suddenly I was at the edge of my seat. “Look at that car with the rug on top!” I hollered, grabbing Lula by the jacket sleeve to get her attention.
“The car at the parking garage?” She put the wipers on and leaned forward to see better. “Holy cow! It's him! It's Old Penis Nose!”
Lula jumped out of the car and took off across the street after Mo. She had a half-eaten Boston creme in her hand, and she was getting pelted with rain and she was yelling, “Stop! Stop in the name of the law!”
Mo's mouth dropped open. A mixture of disbelief and horror registered on his face. He snapped his mouth shut, jumped into his car and took off, burning rubber.
“Get back here!” I hollered at Lula. “He's getting away!”
Lula pulled up and ran back to the Firebird. “Did you see that? He didn't pay no attention to me! I should of shot him. I should of dropped a cap in that old coot.”
Hard to do when you're packing a doughnut.
She threw the car into gear, put her foot to the floor and rocketed off after Mo . . . through the intersection, through a red light.