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"Pssst!" Sady looked around, but saw no one. She continued her walk and heard the sound again, so she stopped and saw a hand waved to her from a break in the shrubs.
"Who is it?" Sady asked. There was no way she would blindly stepping into shrubbery with a pincher like Cliff on the loose.
Several heads poked out- Lee, Lou, Carolina, Allison, and Frank beckoned Sady. "Hurry up," one of them hissed. Sady took a quick peek and crawled through an opening in the shrubs.
"What's up?" Sady asked, hoping she would get a break on the thefts she was investigating.
"We're forming a protest," Carolina told her.
"Against Nurse Gabby," Allison said with a scowl.
"Why?" Sady asked. Not that she couldn't come up with at least a half dozen reasons on her own, but this group looked ready for mob action.
"The lime jello!" Lee answered.
"She always makes the cook serve lime jello. And we don't like it! We want strawberry jello with bananas," Lou added.
"I'm protesting the cigarette ban," Frank told Sady. "I've hitched my wagon to theirs. Is there anything you'd like to protest?"
Sady thought it over and said, "Yeah. Cheap crayons! If I have to color at least get me the good ones. And a big box with a built in sharpener, not a sixteen pack. And I want adult coloring books!"
"That's the spirit," Carolina encouraged. They all jumped when the bushes shook, afraid they were busted by Nurse Gabby. Instead, Lucy pushed her way into the group.
"I want more hair color choices," she demanded. "Nurse Gabby orders them by the case because they're cheaper that way. But I'm sick of these colors!"
The guests in the bushes were muttering louder by the minute, and Sady was afraid they'd get caught. A bell rang, and they all scattered. Allison grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the shrubs. "Group therapy time." She led Sady to the meeting room where chairs fanned out in a circle.
A smart looking woman wearing glasses was already seated. "That's Doc Alden," Allison told Sady. "She leads group therapy." Sady looked at the doctor and felt as though she had a clear skull and the doctor could read her thoughts. It made her uncomfortable. The doctor smiled at Sady and patted the seat next to her so Sady reluctantly took it.
"Don't worry," Dr. Alden said. "I'm not analyzing your mind or trying to read your thoughts."
"How did you know?" Sady asked.
"It's natural," the doctor assured her. "I'm not here to probe into your deep personal issues. These open sessions are like a public forum, and I'm just the moderator. Participation isn't required, but it's recommended. Sometimes it's easier to talk about things that bother us when we are around others who are dealing with problems as well. All the guests see a counselor for one-on-one therapy. There's no judgment, teasing, or criticism allowed. It's a support group and most of the guests find a measure of healing in helping others."
"Oh," Sady said, feeling more at ease. Soon the chairs filled, and the doctor welcomed them to the meeting.
"We have a new guest, so I'd like you all to say hello to Sandy-Sue."
Most of the group said, "Hello, Sandy-Sue." It was a little creepy hearing them all speak at once, but then Dr. Alden opened the meeting for discussion.
"Would anyone like to share an experience?" she asked. The doctor started the discussion with the person sitting closest to her left and worked her way around the circle. Sady sat nervously and listened to the other guests. Some gave general comments about a recent event that made them happy or sad. Others gave deeply touching or heart-breaking accounts of events in their lives. No one laughed, teased, or joked about the comments. It was like they had formed a protective bond, and anyone within the circle was part of that group.
Sady was surprised at the support and encouragement the members gave each other. Those comments opened up more discussions, and soon Sady felt like she was among people who understood her. As the session neared the end, Dr. Alden asked any who hadn't participated if they'd like to speak.
Sady nervously raised her hand, hoping no one would laugh when she spoke. "Just recently I've been sad and angry a lot, and I don't know why. Sometimes I cry when my friends aren't around. I don't want them to see me crying." She sniffled and the woman sitting next to her handed her a tissue. Several people in the group nodded and murmured with sympathy and understanding.
"It's okay to cry in front of us, Sandy-Sue," someone said. "We've all done it, and it's nothing to be ashamed of." Sady looked up to see several others in the group with tears in their eyes. They understood! She gave a teary smile and thanked them.
"Sometimes we just get mad and don't know why," another guest said.
"Or one little thing in life suddenly becomes an overwhelming challenge that we can't deal with," Carolina added.
"Our minds and bodies usually tell us when something is wrong," Dr. Alden agreed, wrapping up the meeting. "Our stress receptors can become worn out, and they no longer work properly. We may need to just talk about our feelings, or things that bother us. Maybe we want someone to listen and understand. It can be physical, or something beyond our control such as a chemical imbalance or another illness. Or, we may have repressed memories that surface suddenly and overwhelm us. Whatever you're dealing with, ladies and gentlemen, I want you to remember one thing: Life's a bitch... and these meetings are bitch slapping sessions!"
Sady giggled. She hadn't expected that from Dr. Alden. When the meeting ended, the guests stayed in the room and chatted with each other. Sady could tell the period after the meeting helped the guests relax and unwind. Several guests hugged her, including Cliff. She expected a pinch, and he winked. "You're new, so you get a pass. But you're a hottie, so you better watch out!"
***
"Amanda, I'm not taking you to the shooting range dressed like that," Matt said acidly.
"Listen, Stubbles. If I'm getting training, I'm gonna do it right! This is how a hot, gun toting, full-figured, woman of color dresses for range practice. I'm not wearing Army fatigues. I wanna look good out there on the range," she snapped.
"If you put on Army fatigues, the military police will arrest you. And I can find a range where you'd fit right in- it's called Where the buffalo roam."
"Handsome, you better find something to shove in his mouth or I'm gonna kill him," Amanda threatened.
Matt looked at Harry and CJ. "Do I have to take her? She looks like a 1970s B movie actress!" Amanda had gone home for lunch. When she returned for her afternoon session at the shooting range she wore shiny white high-heeled boots, a mini-skirt, and a low cut blouse. Her hair was teased into a huge 'fro.
CJ snickered behind Harry's back when Harry nodded to Matt. He tried to control his amusement. Amanda knew how to take things over the top, and she did so now. Matt gave them an ugly look that promised revenge. "You're driving," he told Amanda. "I don't need my truck impounded when you get pulled over for prostitution!"
"Just shut up, and keep up," Amanda scoffed. "I'm gonna blow you away at that shooting range."
"God, I hope so!" Matt muttered. "Do me first, will you?" The office door hadn't quite closed and he could hear Harry and CJ laughing hysterically. He bit back a smile and wondered how Sady was doing. Then he looked at Amanda with a sigh and hoped he wouldn't see anyone he knew.
When they got to the shooting range, the manager asked, "Are you here to shoot guns or a movie, Matt?" Matt scowled at the laughter coming from an office behind the counter. He snarled and pointed to a handgun for Amanda to use. She tilted her head and raised a brow at him.
"What's this?" she asked.
"What's it look like?" he replied sarcastically.
"Looks like a pea-shooter," she told him, while the manager behind the counter chuckled appreciatively. "Uh, uh! I am not using that. It looks like a sissy gun. Do I look like a sissy?"
"You look like..."
"Shut up, Stubbles. I'm not using that prissy piece. I want to shoot something solid... like that one!" She pointed to a Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum. "That's a real gun. Give me that one!"
"No," Matt replied flatly.
"Listen here. If I'm gonna be the one holding the gun, I wanna look cool. And that's a fine looking piece. Don't give me one of those girly ones you passed off on Sady. She's a skinny bag of bones and can't handle one of these."
"And you think you can?" Matt asked with a snort.
"Do I need to make a phone call and tell Harry you're being uncooperative?"
"You're not firing that weapon, Amanda!" he insisted.
Amanda turned to the manager and smiled. "Load that one up for me, and show me the range." Matt shook his head at the manager, while the manager smiled and loaded the weapon.
He handed it to Matt with a grin and a shrug. "The lady has good taste in weapons. Plus, she signed the waiver. We'll see you on the range," he said.
"We?" Matt asked with a scowl.
"Oh, yeah! Everyone in this place is gonna want to watch," the manager assured him.
"I'll kill you when this is over. That is, if anyone is still alive," Matt said, as Amanda dragged him out the door that led to the shooting range, grabbing protective gear along the way.
"See, Stubbles. They all wanna come see me shoot. That's because me and this weapon look good together." Matt ignored her as he donned the safety equipment and handed Amanda hers. She took them with her to the assigned lane. Before Matt could give her any instructions and move out of the way, she slapped on the protection, grabbed the weapon, took a stance, and fired at the target. A second later Matt screamed curses from underneath Amanda while everyone at the range howled with laughter.
"What happened?" Amanda yelled at Matt.
"You picked the biggest handgun in the place and got knocked on your ass... and mine! Now, get off, before I suffocate," he demanded. "Wait! Where's the weapon?"
"I don't know. I think I lost it when you tripped me," she replied.
The manager showed Matt the weapon that Amanda dropped after she fired. "It's a miracle she didn't kill someone," Matt yelled at him. "Now will you get her off me?" The assistant manager helped Amanda to her feet and left Matt on the ground.
"We've got video, Meadows," he told Matt.
"Why don't you just shoot me now?" Matt demanded.
"Give me back that gun and I will," Amanda yelled. "Look what you did! My skirt split wide open when you knocked me over. Now I'm gonna have to go change before I shoot any more guns. I'm turning in the receipt for a new skirt. No one warned me shooting was hazardous to my wardrobe. It's a good thing I didn't break a heel off my boot or you'd be eating it now. Did I hit the target?"
"Were you aiming for me or the sky? If so, then yes. Congratulations! You got two targets with one shot!" Matt steamed as he got to his feet with a groan. "Never mind. Just leave me here and go put on something decent. I'll crawl to the nearest bar."
"Ooh, I'll join you! I could use a stiff drink after this traumatic experience."
Matt limped to the parking lot, ignoring the muffled laughter that followed them. With a sigh of resignation he said, "Amanda, I'm begging you... please, just throw me out the door as you drive by the office and keep going. Go home and put on something... else."
"You should have told me high heels and guns aren't a good mix, Stubbles. It's a wonder I didn't break a leg."
"You almost did," he grumbled, rubbing his knee.
Amanda narrowed her eyes and said, "It's a good thing for you I'm in a forgiving mood, or I'd sue you for risking my life. Now get out and go tell Harry you're fired." She stopped at the back door of the office.
"With pleasure!" Matt yelled as Amanda blew out of the lot. He stumbled through the back door, went straight to Harry's office, and grabbed him by the throat. "I don't care what you say, I know you keep a bottle here somewhere. Get it now, or I'll slit your throat."
Harry's brow rose, and he wheezed, "CJ keeps it in her top drawer."
Matt let go of Harry's throat and met CJ as she stood at her door holding out the bottle, trying not to laugh. He glared as he snatched it from her hand and said, "Plan on being my designated driver tonight. If you even think of sending me home with A... A... Am... that maniac, then get ready to make headlines because it will be a murder suicide!" He slammed the door to his office and locked it behind him.
"I'll drive him back to his apartment after work and you follow with his truck," Harry suggested to CJ. "We're not taking him home with us!"
CJ chuckled and agreed. "You get to load and unload him. Or maybe I should say reload. He'll already be loaded!"
Amanda came back to work after she changed her skirt, but she refused to talk about the session. "Maybe we'll get something out of her tomorrow," CJ suggested to Harry.
"If Matt doesn't erupt in between now and then," Harry said. "How much was in that bottle?"
"Enough to last him the day and take off the edge... and put him over the limit for legal driving. But not enough to put him under the desk," CJ replied. "I've had a few medicinal emergencies since I bought it."
Harry shook his head with a sigh, hoping he wouldn't end up at the range with Amanda. He'd throw Matt into the burning building again, rather than take Amanda himself. At quitting time he pulled Matt from his office and dropped him off at his apartment.
"Where's my truck?" Matt asked suspiciously. "If you let Sady or the black widow drive it I'll kill you again!"
"Your truck is safe in the parking garage," Harry assured Matt, handing him the keys. "CJ drove it." Matt looked like he wanted to protest, but realized there was nothing to say, so he just glared and slammed the door in Harry's face.
"I think that went well," CJ said from behind Harry's back.