Cruisin On Desperation. Pat G'Orge-Walker
It was the fourth time the cat had torn a bedspread.
If Ima saw it, she didn’t show it.
Evilene’s back hunched with fear. Understanding and forgiveness were not a part of Ima’s persona. Evilene’s bright green eyes turned red as she went, just that quick, from having nine lives to having five.
Ima applied several layers of shea butter lotion to her body, on top of the cologne, and then slid into the purple outfit. She chose a dirty-blond colored, short and sassy wig to complement her mission.
Short and sassy was perfect for getting down and nasty, she thought as she surveyed her body from all angles.
Pleased with her first line of combat wear she then went into the bathroom. Ima carefully put on a pair of lavender-tinged contact lenses, which gave her a more exotic look and took the edge off her otherwise hypnotizing hazel eyes.
While Ima lay the finishing touches to her makeup she went over the plan in her mind. Needy was very specific in the outcome she wanted. According to Needy, the women wanted the victim, Lyon Lipps, to lose not only his mind and finances, if he had any, but to lose every shred of dignity.
The ladies wanted his “Y” chromosome whittled down to a “V.” With that last thought in mind, Ima grabbed a small pair of scissors from her vanity drawer and secreted them in a hidden lining inside her purse.
A lady always needs a little extra protection.
Ima went towards her living room still checking out her every angle in the mirrors that lined the walls of the hallway. “Perfect,” she purred.
A few moments later and Ima was in full combat mode. She turned on her radio just in time to hear the late Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On.” She gyrated and strutted around the room as though Marvin was right there with her.
Marvin was better off wherever he was.
When the song ended, Ima checked her watch and at the same time, the doorbell rang. She tiptoed over to the window and peeped outside at her porch. As brave as she liked to think she was, she unconsciously released an audible sigh when she saw that it wasn’t the police again, or an irate wife or girlfriend with a weapon.
Ima opened her door grinning like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Needy and my new friend, Birdie. You ladies come on in.”
Both Needy and Birdie looked at Ima Hellraiser in awe. Birdie loved and admired the outfit. Needy gawked because Ima suddenly acted, now that there was a white woman in the room, like she’d had some type of polished upbringing. Needy then remembered that Ima was getting paid and she was probably just being nice because of that.
Needy was right. If the credit card had been denied Ima would’ve ripped those women asunder—and then asunder again. Whatever was left she’d have torn apart.
“It’s sort of hot in here.” Needy said as she noticed the fire in the fireplace. It was hot enough to melt the wax that was holding the last bit of her weave in place.
“No it’s not.” Ima quipped, “You must be flashing. You did just have a birthday and I bet that you got menopause as a gift and nothing else.” Ima started laughing at her joke.
Two minutes haven’t passed since we entered this she-demon’s lair and already she’s started with the insults, Needy thought as she struggled not to take the fireplace’s poker and beat Ima with it.
Birdie didn’t want their plans to go awry and when she saw the look on Needy’s face her mind raced to find a way to cool things down, but she was too late.
“I guess you’re probably used to living in an Easy Bake oven,” Needy shot back as she struggled to decide which she wanted more—Ima poked with a poker or Lyon Lipps destroyed.
Needy shot another nasty look at Ima and Ima did the same in return. Then both women came together and gave each an air-kiss on each cheek, followed by a hug.
“Girl, you are so crazy,” Ima said, with a false lilt in her voice.
“You’re a nut case, too,” Needy shot back, honestly. “And you ain’t ever gonna change until you die.” Needy stopped and gave a conspiring smile before adding, “And we know evil don’t die.”
“You know it!” Ima exclaimed. “I’m so glad to hear from you.”
“Birdie, just in case you standing over there wondering what is going on, don’t panic. This is how we do it. Ain’t that right, Ima?” She didn’t want to take a chance on Ima being too honest, which was a rarity, so she quickly added, “And, when she said that she was glad to hear from us, that only meant that your credit card payment went through.”
“Break it down for that white girl, Needy.” Ima laughed so hard one of her contacts threatened to fall out. She stopped only long enough to grab a tissue and extend a well-manicured hand to Birdie. “Don’t take offense. I’ve known Needy for years and we just tolerate each other.”
“She’s right,” Needy remarked. “Ima Hellraiser takes a lot of prayer and toleration, but like air, she’s necessary for our mission.” Needy let out a spiteful laugh equal to the one from Ima as she walked over to Birdie and whispered, “Just follow my lead. We can always try and kill that heifer later.”
The thought of possibly killing Ima Hellraiser—someone she’d just met and already didn’t like—calmed Birdie as she went over and extended her hand to her. “I take no offense,” Birdie said. “Can we get down to business now?”
Suddenly Ima didn’t quite like the new complacent attitudes of the visitors. Normally, she’d have had them shaking in their boots within five minutes. However, they were paying for her services, not her approval or friendship, so down to business they would get.
“Here’s the way I see it,” Ima said. “We all need to take a vacation.”
“A vacation? You’re gonna get this man with a vacation?” Birdie asked.
Needy was beginning to think Ima had finally lost her mind, but she’d known the woman long enough to hear her out. If Ima did things the traditional way she wouldn’t be so much in demand. “Let her speak,” Needy told Birdie. “After all, she ain’t normal.”
Again, Ima knew that Needy had slid in a nasty comment but it was okay. She’d make Needy pay later. With Birdie standing in her living room, Ima just knew she’d hit the motherlode. The hurt, anguished and embarrassed look on Birdie’s face told Ima all she needed to know.
Ima was about to get paid.
It took the three women about two hours to come to an agreement about the disposal of Lyon Lipps’ mental, financial and, possibly, physical being. All during that time Needy and Birdie had moved from room to room, opening windows trying to catch a breeze before Ima immediately closed the windows behind them. It was disturbing to both Birdie and Needy that while they sat drenched in their clothes, Ima kept saying that she was chilly and the cat kept cowering over in a corner like it knew something dreadful was about to happen.
“So then, it’s agreed that we will take a vacation?” Ima asked with authority. She knew the answer but asked the question anyway.
“It makes sense once you lay it out. That Lyon Lipps certainly won’t turn down a vacation—especially a free one,” Needy added. The paper she’d grabbed to fan herself with was ripped to shreds from her frantic use and little bits of paper were shooting around the table. In fact, there was so much shredded paper flying around the three women sat there looking like they were trapped inside a snow globe turned upside down.
“Let me get this straight,” Birdie finally said. “Lyon Lipps has made a fool of Cill’s sister, Jessie, Petunia, and me, but I’m the one who has to pay for your services and for this vacation?”
As Birdie spoke, she realized that she also suspected that somehow, Lyon Lipps had done something to Mother Blister, but she couldn’t prove it. All