Getting Old Can Kill You (9 page)

We walk her to the door.

“Anything.”

In full sobs by now, she leaves us.

For a few moments we are silent, our minds on what Leah has told us.

I take a deep breath. “Without having anything specific, finding Seymour will be like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.”

“Just about. But we can start with asking their neighbors if anyone ever saw Seymour leave. And how.”

Jack starts to collect the Bloody Mary glasses. “Seymour is actually a missing person. But the cops won’t take it seriously because there’s no foul play. He hasn’t been abducted. Is there really a case here?”

I gather up our breakfast dishes. “Here’s something to think about. Maybe Seymour doesn’t want to be found.”

“I
think I see it. Here it comes.” Ida waves her arms to indicate to the driver of the car that they are the people who are waiting to be picked up. They are standing at the front gate of Lanai Gardens. Far enough away so that their Phase Two neighbors won’t know their business. Sophie and Bella have dressed prettily in twin outfits again for their first official detective class. Ida is in businesslike black.

The small lime green auto makes its way over to them.

Sophie frowns. “It’s not much of a car. And look at that awful color.”

Ida says, “It’s better than three buses and costs a lot less than a taxi.”

Sophie squints. “I don’t see DWW printed on it.”

Ida, annoyed, says, “They don’t work that way. They’re private drivers with their own cars who volunteer to take seniors around for a very cheap price.”

Bella is nervous. “So how do we know it’s them? It could be some robber or killer.”

The car pulls up in front of them and stops. Ida says, “I called Drivers with Wheels and they said they’d send a car to this address in fifteen minutes and it’s fifteen minutes now. Who else could it be?”

Sophie adds, “So ask for his credentials.”

A young man jumps out of the front seat. Ida guesses he’s about twenty. He’s small and skinny, with curly black hair and dark eyes. He is all smiles, revealing one gold tooth. The Levi’s he’s wearing are torn at the knees, his scuffed once-white sneakers are untied, and he has on a T-shirt that says “Kiss me, I’m a hot Cubano.”

The girls stare.

“
Buenos días
, ladies. Your driver is here at your service. These coming with you?”

Without waiting for an answer, he quickly lifts the three tote bags off each of their shoulders, raises the front compartment, and sets them in his tiny front trunk.

Bella’s eyes grow wild. “What happened to your motor?”

The young man laughs. “It’s in the back.”

Bella is confused. “How can a car be backward?”

Sophie asks with trepidation, “Will we all fit in?”

The young man says, “Not to worry, my little bug has a big heart.” With that he opens the other three doors. “Hop right in.”

Bella moves closer to Sophie. “What did he say about bugs?”

Ida practically shoves Bella into the backseat. “That’s a Volkswagen. Move it.”

Ida decides to sit up front with the driver. Sophie gets into the back next to Bella. It’s a tight squeeze.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Ricardo Leon, but please call me Rico. I aim to please. Me and my car—we may be small but we are mighty.”

Ida glances at the thin tray between her and the driver. A half-eaten sandwich lies there, smelling of onions and garlic. Along with a half-empty beer can. She pulls far away from him until she’s leaning against her door.

The driver turns so he can face all of them. “Seat belts. Seat belts. We are a safety-first automobile.”

He sees Ida staring with horror at his lunch. He shrugs. “Not to worry. I was almost finished anyway.” He takes what’s left of the food and squashes it back into its bag and stuffs it into a small trash holder.

Ida asks with trepidation, “What do you mean, safety? That’s a beer can! Have you been drinking?”

He shakes his head. “No, that is not real beer. Nonalcoholic. See, look at the label. Coors makes it. Not to worry.” He turns to look at the two in back. “Do you like music?”

Sophie and Bella, sitting stiff as rods, manage a slight nod.

With that Rico hits a switch and music pours out from multiple speakers, loud enough to cause immediate deafness. Rico waves his hands with an imaginary baton. “You like?”

Ida pokes him in the shoulder. “No, no, too loud. Forget the music. Just drive.”

Rico sadly complies. “You do not like the Buena Vista Social Club? Have you not heard of Rubén González?”

Bella pipes up, “Maybe you have some Eddie Fisher? You know … ‘Oh! My Papa’?”

Rico looks at her as if she’s speaking another language. “No,
señora
, the Fisher’s papa is not in my iTunes playlist.”

“Are we there yet?” Bella asks in a small voice.

Sophie whispers, “We haven’t even left.”

Rico turns to them.
“No problema,”
he says and with that he takes off with screaming, smoking tires.

Bella whispers back, “We shoulda taken the buses.”

Rico keeps turning his head when he talks to Sophie and Bella. Ida keeps pushing his face back so he can keep his eyes on the road. He is excited. “So you are lady detectives. This is so thrilling to me. I myself have dreams of going into the business of solving crimes. What was your best case?”

The girls by now are having a wonderful time. Sophie and Bella are enjoying the nonalcoholic beer that Rico is sharing with them. He has a cooler filled with cans that sits on the floor under Ida’s feet. They are feeling quite cheerful, as if there really was liquor in the cans. Ida, of course, will drink only bottled water.

Rico has managed to charm them with his cuteness and enthusiasm. He wants to hear all about the cases they solved. They have been listing past successes, such as the Grandpa Bandit case. Romeo, the senior killer of elderly ladies. The eighty-five-year-old wife who was spying on her ninety-year-old husband, thinking he was cheating on her.

Sophie says, “My favorite was when we were in New York and we captured a thief who was stealing from the church poor box. We had to go underground to get him.”

Ida corrects her. “That’s undercover.”

“Whatever,” Sophie tosses back at her. She is feeling no pain.

Bella sits happily sucking on her nonbeer can, her eyes glazed.

Rico beams. “You are amazing ladies. So why do you need to be taking these lessons, since you are already experts?”

The girls look at one another. Ida decides to be the one who answers. “We want to learn more, so we can be better at our work.”

Sophie and Bella nod their agreement.

“And,” Ida adds with pride, “we are starting our very own company, Ida Franz and Associates.”

Sophie hits her elbow against the back of the passenger seat, making Ida jump. “Stop saying that! It isn’t decided yet!”

Stopping at a light frees Rico to grab hard-boiled eggs from his cooler. And a napkin for the shells. He hands them out. Ida refuses the offer. The others hungrily accept.

Ida shivers nervously every time he reaches under her feet and takes his eyes off the road.

The light changes. Rico takes off like a shot.

Rico is practically leaping out of his seat. “What about another partner? How about me? I am a man of many sides. I can do everything. I am like a man, invisible. You will never regret it. You learn upstairs with Señor Gatkes. I learn from you. We make a good team.”

Ida holds up her hands. “Rico, you are going too fast for us, and I’m not just talking about your driving.”

“
Está bien
. All right. We take one
bebé
step at a time. First, I am your number one driver. You call my private number.” He reaches into a mess of papers and maps under his seat and retrieves a crumpled business card. “Day or night, you call, I am there.”

He grins with his one gold tooth glittering at them. “Is a deal?”

He pulls up in front of Gatkes’ building.

Ida says very quickly, “We teach you. You drive us free of charge.”

Rico grins. “It’s a deal.”

H
aving finished with the Sunday papers and enjoyed our brunch, Jack and I head out for our morning dip in the pool. I’m not looking forward to it without Evvie and Joe here. And surprisingly, the girls are absent today. A neighbor already stopped us before we entered the pool gate and reported having spotted the three of them hurrying down the path toward the main gate, trying to look inconspicuous.

Inconspicuous? Not a chance. That’s a joke at Lanai Gardens. Somehow, anywhere at any given hour, there will be a neighbor who is looking out the window or on a stroll, whose sharp eyes pick up any unusual behavior and immediately the condo jungle drums beat out the news.

And sure enough, some guy walking his dog early this morning in Phase One was the tattler of unusual activity. The girls are sneaking out? Where are they going? Why aren’t they swimming? Inquiring minds want to know. Which means everybody.

Sometimes I wonder why we don’t swim at a different time or go to a pool in another Phase just so we can have some privacy. But then again, that news will also spread and feelings will be hurt. They should put up a sign, “Changes not welcome here.”

One thing or another kept us from swimming all week, so Jack and I brace ourselves for the lunatic attack that awaits us from good old Hy Binder when we finally return to our daily routine. We turn the corner around the showers, reaching the pool and, sure enough, here’s Hy. Like a tiger lying in wait, ready to spring.

“Well, look who’s come to join us this morning. It’s the honeymooners.”

No one wants to pay attention to Hy, except for his parrot-wife, Lola, who adores every squawk out of his mouth. As does Sol, who is his best buddy. But Hy is too loud to ignore.

“Continued your honeymoon back here? Hiding away up in the
Chez
Gladdy bedroom?”

I poke Jack gently as he’s about to take Hy on. I whisper, “Ignore him.” After years of living through Hy’s jokes and simplistic attacks, one stops paying attention. Jack, being a newcomer to our Phase, wants to take him on. Why bother? Why waste one’s time and energy?

We make our way to our usual spots.

Hefty Tessie is swimming laps as usual. Hubby Sol sits at the edge, dangling his feet, watching his wife swim. This was not a marriage made in heaven. Tessie ran after him but he was too slow to get away.

Enya, our war survivor, sits in her corner, large straw sun hat blocking her face, eyes glued to a book, ignoring everyone as is her preference.

The snowbirds are devouring their usual Canadian newspapers.

Irving and Mary, still good friends, continue to visit Irving’s wife, Millie, who remains in the Alzheimer’s ward at a nearby facility. They visit her every day, even though she doesn’t recognize either of them.

The two cousins, Barbi and Casey, who ran a computer information business, have moved back to San Francisco where they feel they will have more freedom to live the kind of life they prefer to lead. I suspect they weren’t really cousins.

As we settle into our chaises, Hy starts in with another of his jokes. The Internet supplies him with these old saws by the hundreds. He practically dances up and down in his enthusiasm.

“Didja hear the one about the ninety-year-old guy sitting on a park bench crying? A cop comes over and asks what’s the matter. Herby, that’s his name, Herby says he just came home from his honeymoon with his gorgeous young wife. The cries become sobs. ‘Well,’ says the cop, ‘good for you. But why are you crying?’ Herbie blows his nose and says, ‘She’s waiting for me in her negligee and I don’t remember where we live.’ ”

There is a mild smattering of applause, mostly from Lola and Sol. I would guess that joke is as old as Hy.

Jack and I apply our sunblock. He does my back and I do his.

Hy wants to annoy us some more. He leans closer and pesters us about where the girls were going today and have we heard from Evvie. I say, “I don’t know” and “yes.” That’s as much information as I’ll give out to the likes of him. I lie down on my stomach, my back to Hy.