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“I’m dying,” Gertrude said.
“I tried to stop you,” Calvin said.
“You did not. What am I going to do? There’s got to be a way to make the burning stop.”
“Yeah—don’t eat fire.”
“I had to eat it, just to prove to you I could!” Gertrude reclined the seat with a thump.
“Easy! Do you know how much this car cost?” He pulled into a lot and Gertrude sat up enough so she could see where they were.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
“Sit tight. I’m going to get you some Pepto.”
Calvin was back in a few minutes with a bottle of pink magic. Gertrude frantically peeled the plastic off, opened the cap, and tipped her back. “Easy!” Calvin exclaimed. “I’m not sure it’s possible to overdose on Pepto, but I really don’t want to be the one who has to deal with you if you do.”
She slugged half the bottle, and then let out an unladylike belch. “Excuse me,” she said, and screwed the cap back on.
“Better?” he asked.
“Not sure yet.”
“Do we need to get you home?”
“Nope. I’m OK.”
“All right. So where to next?”
“I don’t know. Private Eyes eventually, but they’re not open yet. I want to find Trixie-Abby, but I have no idea where to look.”
“How about we go get you a cell phone?” Calvin said.
“Why?”
“Why? Because everyone else has one.”
“You don’t,” Gertrude pointed out.
“I know, but you said you wanted to leave your card. Don’t you want a cell phone number to put on that card?”
“Oh, good point.”
“Plus, then we’d have a GPS so we don’t have to spend so much time driving around in circles.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “That’s why you want me to get a cellular phone. You know, they make a thing called maps. And those are cheaper. Free even if we go get the ones at my house. I have an atlas for every state except Connecticut.”
“Why Connecticut?”
“What do you mean?” Gertrude asked.
“I mean, you have an atlas for Hawaii and Alaska and not Connecticut? Is there a reason?”
“Why on earth would I ever go to Connecticut?” she said. Wasn’t that reason enough? “Besides I can’t afford a cellular phone. Don’t be foolish.”
“I’m pretty sure you can get one for no money down. You just need to sign a contract.”
Gertrude narrowed her eyes. “A contract, huh? And just how much does that cost?”
Calvin sighed. “How about we just go look? We’ve got to kill some time.”
“Fine.”
When Calvin pulled into the parking lot of AmeriCell, Gertrude had to admit: she was excited. It had never occurred to her that she needed a cell phone, but now that she was here, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t leave without one. Or three.
They entered the store, and a person who hadn’t been blessed with a personality put Gertrude’s name on a list. “Someone will be right with you,” he said, without making eye contact.
Gertrude wandered toward a shiny display of tablets.
“No,” Calvin said firmly. “Over here.”
Gertrude followed him to a display of smart phones. “These only cost a penny?” she asked, her eyes growing wide.
“Like I said—contract. They’re a penny today, real money tomorrow.”
Gertrude handled every single phone in the room and then moved on to accessories. Calvin looked at his watch. “I know we needed to kill time, but this is ridiculous. Maybe we should go to a different carrier. Apparently these people don’t care about customer service.”
As if on cue, a young woman with blue hair approached them. “Good afternoon! How can I help you today?”
“Why is your hair blue?” Calvin asked. “Doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence in your professionalism.”
The girl’s face puckered, and she struggled to keep her voice even as she asked, “Would you like me to get someone else to help you?”
“No,” Gertrude said quickly. “We don’t want to get back on the list. Calvin here might die of old age before the next salesgirl comes along.”
Calvin gave Gertrude a dirty look but said only, “She needs a phone.”
“OK then,” the blue-haired girl said. “My name is Zandra and I would be happy to help you.”
“Zandra?” Calvin asked, appalled.
Zandra ignored him. “Are you a current customer of AmeriCell?” she asked Gertrude.
“No,” Gertrude said. “I’ve never had a cellular telephone before.”
The girl smirked. “OK then. Would you like a smartphone or would you like to start with something more basic?”
“I want the smartest phone you have,” Gertrude said.
“OK, then, that would be this one.” She walked over to the newest iPhone, which sported a hefty price tag.
“Maybe not that smart,” Gertrude said.
The girl looked up, her hand still doing a Vanna White toward the iPhone.
“How about your smartest phone that only costs a penny?”
The girl gave a disappointed nod and walked toward the Samsungs. “Here you go,” she said.
“I’ll take it,” Gertrude said.
“Not so fast,” Calvin spoke up. “What’s the catch?”
“What do you mean?” Zandra asked.
“I mean, what are the terms of the contract?” he said condescendingly.
“What happened to your grampa voice?” Gertrude muttered.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he muttered back.
Gertrude looked up at him in surprise. She felt a little flutter in her belly. She didn’t think anyone had ever tried to protect her before.
“Well, it’s a standard two-year contract,” Zandra said. “If you’d like to have a seat, I can go over your options.”
The chairs were absurdly tall. “These aren’t chairs. They’re bar stools,” Calvin said.
Zandra ignored him and fiddled with her mouse. “So,” she said, unfolding a pamphlet in front of them both, “here are your options. You choose how many minutes, how many texts, and how much data you’ll need ...”
Several minutes and a few signatures later, an annoyed Calvin and an excited Gertrude left the AmeriCell store with a shiny new toy. Zandra had offered to teach Gertrude how to use the Android, but Calvin had insisted he would teach her.
Back in the Cadillac, Calvin tried to keep his word, but he failed. “I don’t understand,” he said. “There’s only one button.”
“These are buttons,” Gertrude said, trying to stab at an icon, but Calvin yanked the phone out of her reach.
“Don’t go messing with it,” he said. “I don’t want to have to go back in there. Can’t believe they employ blue-haired, tattooed, pierced hoodlums.”
“Well, how are we going to use it if we don’t know how to use it?”
Calvin sighed. “I have an idea.”
Gertrude waited. Calvin started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Well, are you going to share this idea with me?” Gertrude asked.
“We can go ask my granddaughter for help.”
“Your stripper granddaughter?”
“Don’t call her that,” Calvin snapped. “And yes. But don’t you dare mention that you know she is a stripper. We don’t know that, do you understand me?” Calvin sounded downright menacing.
“Yes,” Gertrude said.
“Is she in that folder? I don’t know where she lives. Her name is Shelly Stevens, unless she’s gotten married, which I doubt she has since she’s taking off her clothes for strangers for a living.”
Gertrude looked in the folder. “She lives at 7 Bean Street, and how could your granddaughter get married without you knowing?”
“I told you. I don’t talk to my daughter much.”
“You never told me that.”
“Well, I’m telling you now. Where’s Bean Street?”
“How should I know? Stop right here. I’ll go in and ask for directions.”
Calvin pulled the car over. “Here?”
“Yes, here.”
“This is a funeral home,” Calvin said.
“I can see that.”
“Most people stop at gas stations for directions.”
Gertrude looked around. “Do you see any gas stations?” She started to get out of the car.
“Stop,” Calvin said. Then he rolled down his window. “Excuse me,” he said to a woman with ridiculously red hair who was walking a basset hound. “Can you tell me where Bean Street is?”
She stopped walking. The basset hound looked relieved and lay down. “Sure,” she said from across the street. “Go back to the light and turn left. Go about a half mile until you see Maple Street. Then bang a left. Then Bean will be the third or fourth street you cross.”
“Thank you,” Calvin said and rolled up his window. The woman said something inaudible and then dragged the reluctant basset back into action. Calvin pulled back into the street and said, “What is wrong with these people’s hair?”
“You’re just jealous because they have some.”
Calvin didn’t respond. He just drove to Bean Street with his jaw clenched. Gertrude was surprised that he was still involved in this escapade at all.
Seven Bean Street was a tiny lot occupied by a tiny, dilapidated house. Calvin groaned as he shut the engine off.
“Ready?” Gertrude asked.
“There is just no need of this,” Calvin said.
“No need of what?”
“Of her living like this. Crows have always been hard workers. They’ve always lived respectably. This is disgusting.”
Gertrude didn’t know what to say, so she climbed out of the car, retrieved her walker from the back seat, and headed toward the door. After a small hesitation, Calvin was behind her. Gertrude knocked on the door, and a woman who looked too old and too chubby to be a stripper opened it.
Her eyes didn’t even give Gertrude a look, but flew right to Calvin’s face. “Dad?”
“Hi, Melissa.”
Melissa could not have looked more shocked. She stepped back to allow them entrance. Gertrude led the way into a neat living room full of well-worn furniture and toddler toys.
“Please have a seat,” Melissa said. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Do you have any Crystal Light?” Gertrude asked.
Melissa ripped her eyes away from her father long enough to give Gertrude a puzzled look. “No, sorry. But I have iced tea, hot tea, water?”
“Never mind then,” Gertrude said and plunked down on the couch.
“No, thank you,” Calvin said and sat beside Gertrude, his feet straddling a plastic fire truck. “I take it Shelly has a little one?”
“Two actually, Conner and Drew.”
“That’s nice. Where are they?”
“Swimming lessons. They should be home soon. What are you doing here?”
“Well, this here is Gertrude. She’s my neighbor. And she just got one of those new smartphones, and well, Shelly is the only young person I know. So I thought maybe she could help Gertrude figure out how to use it.”
“It’s kind of a stretch to say you know Shelly,” Melissa said.
“Well, whose fault is that?” Calvin snapped.
They heard a car pull into the drive.