Littleton, Colorado. (part of the greater Denver area)

Martha is waiting for Tilly to show up. Martha thinks she is always waiting on Tilly for some reason. All their lives, it’s been Martha that has come to the rescue of Tilly. She’s seen her through three divorces, and the death of three other husbands. Martha doesn’t blame the ones that divorced her, divorce seems like a better way out than death. Tilly isn’t that bright, but she is a force of nature, a brute force.
Tilly gets what she wants, even if she doesn’t know why she wants it. The deaths and divorces have left her well off financially. Martha has set most of it up in trust funds so that Tilly won’t blow it all on some cockamamie scheme or another. There have been so many, Martha can’t even think of them all.
Fraternal twins, they look nothing alike. Martha is petite, not much of a figure, with mousy brown hair. She looks every bit the librarian she is. Martha never did figure out why Tilly got all the looks, three times over. Tilly has the extra height, wide shoulders, wide hips, with a chest that could make Dolly Parton look flat. Of course, on such a large body, Tilly’s chest doesn’t seem all that large. Tilly didn’t get the brains. She is always in some mess or another.
An hour and a half late, Tilly drives into Martha’s the drive of Martha‘s modest suburban ranch-style house. Tilly’s driving her huge brilliant red, convertible ‘59 Cadillac. It’s been restored and souped up. It’s really a fitting car for such a big woman.
The top is down even though it’s a bit chilly out. Tilly won’t put the top up unless there is snow or rain coming down. She’ll blast the heater, but won’t put the top up. It’s one of her many quirks, and why Martha won’t ride anywhere with her except on nice warm days.
Tilly bounds into the house, nearly knocking down Martha in the process, who intended to open the door for her but got pushed aside when Tilly shoved the door open. As it is, she is up against the wall behind the door. Tilly doesn’t bother to close the door either. “Martha, where are you? Martha? Come out, come out where ever you are, Ollie-Ollie oxen free!
Martha manages to catch her breath, then slams the door shut. This makes Tilly jump. Tilly’s landing shakes the whole house. “Martha, what kind of silly game is that, why were you hiding behind the door?”
“I wasn’t hiding there. I thought I’d get the door for you like I would for a normal person, you slammed me into the wall. I should have known better, after all these years. Sometimes I forget, you don’t know your own strength.”
“Oh, quit being silly. I know my own strength, it’s you that doesn’t.
“I suppose you’re right about that. Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“I want to get another vehicle.”
“Trade in your Caddy? I thought you never would.”
“Who said trade in the Caddy? I said I want to get another one, I didn‘t say a thing about trading in my Caddy. The only thing I’ve ever traded in it is…well never you mind about that, you silly goose.”
“Why on earth would you want to do that?”
“I’m tired of having to leave the top down just so I won’t bang my head on the top.”
“Oh, so there actually is a reason you never put the top up?”
“Well of course there is, you’re just a real silly goose today.”
“I figured you just wanted it down, so you left it down.”
“Duh, I hate to have to hunch over when I drive, but I’m tired of always messing up my hairdo too.”
“So what could you possibly get that would solve both problems?”
“One of them big Hummers.”
“What big hummer? Is that something kinky? Who is he?”
“It’s a brand, you silly goose. Kind of like the military vehicles, except these are made for the street. If those won’t work, International makes a super huge four door pickup that should work.”
“That all sounds pretty expensive to me.”
“They are, but for my size, that’s about the only option, unless I want to have some custom shop build me a pope-mobile.”
“So now you think you’re the pope?”
“You sure got the silly willy’s today. No, I don’t think I’m the pope, but I’d have to have a dome like that thing he’s got put on a car so I could drive it without hunching over.”
“How come you don’t have to hunch over when we go in my car?”
“Because I’m not driving. Jeesh did you wake up stupid or what?”
“No, he was awake before I was. He’s at work now.”
“Oh, I see. You’re messing with me again. Alright, quit it. I’m serious.”
“Hi, Serious, I’m Martha. You sure look a lot like my sister Tilly.”
“Oh, quit it out. Can I get the money for the new car or not. You know you have to sign off on big withdrawals like that.”
“You never did say how much these things cost.”
“The Hummer is about sixty thousand, plus tax and extras if I add any. The truck has a base price of one-hundred and twenty thousand, before any extras, but you know I like all the extra doohickeys.”
“So, which one do you want to get?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you would take me over to the dealer’s to try them on.”
“They’re not shoes, there’s more to consider than whether they fit or not.”
You can do the considerin’ about all the other stuff. I just want something that fits me.”
“For once, you have a valid point. Let’s go. I suppose you know where the dealer’s are?”
“One dealer. Matheson’s Equipment over on Broadway. They carry both vehicles.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to drive them, or maybe just leave them set on the lot? They have to be a bit heavy to carry.” Tilly makes a swat at Martha, Martha ducks it then grins at Tilly.
“Martha, you need to let up on those word games. Sometimes they just don’t work.“
“I won’t know until I try them.”
“Lighten up on it, don’t force them.”
Martha nods her head, then grabs her jacket and purse. They get in Martha’s Buick. At least Martha now knows why Tilly leans the seat back so much.
The drive to the dealership is fairly quick, it’s an off time of day, so the traffic isn’t too bad. Tilly isn’t saying much, she usually doesn’t when she’s in her reclined position. Martha thinks she takes a cat nap.
When they get to the dealership, nobody comes out to try to sell them anything. Well, it is an equipment place, they probably figure two mature ladies are just in the wrong place. The truck and Hummer Tilly mentioned are sitting right in front, near the street, where everyone passing by can see them easily. Martha figures they use them to draw people into the lot.
Mostly, this place has big trucks, with various kinds of equipment mounted on them. Dump trucks, van box trucks, or the kind with the lift things on them that the telephone and power guys use. Some have various other implements, neither Martha or Tilly even know what they are.
Martha and Tilly look over the Hummer and the huge pickup. They are locked. Tilly can’t try them on like she wants. Martha and Tilly march into the metal building with the typical glass walls in the front. It was once a Ford dealer’s showroom. They moved on to a bigger, fancier place. The older building seems to fit with an equipment sales place.
Nobody can be seen. Not a salesman, not a secretary, nobody. Nobody is at any of the desks. Martha knows something is wrong. It’s the middle of the morning, there should be somebody around. Either that, or the place should have been locked up.
Tilly goes marching to the back, looking for somebody, anybody. “Tilly, hold up. Something’s very wrong here.”
“I’ll say. This is no darn way to run a business. They all must go on break at the same time.” Tilly keeps marching to the back, towards the private offices. A shot rings out. Martha is too scared to move for a moment. Tilly screams, then lets go a stream of cuss words.
Another shot rings out, much louder this time, another string of cuss words from Tilly. Martha starts moving that direction. Tilly is laying on the floor. Tilly has a huge pistol in one hand, some kind of cloth in the other. Her purse is laying on the floor with half the contents spilled out of it.
Martha is stunned, but fights it off to get into action. She checks Tilly, there’s no blood anywhere, always a good sign. Tilly is conscious. “Get the hell off me Martha, I’m ok. The son of bitch knocked me down. I didn’t think any son of a bitch could knock me down. I got a shot off at him, but I don’t know how to shoot from lying on the floor, I missed.”
“A shot at who?”
“Some guy, he had this mask on.” Tilly holds up the cloth in her hand, its some sort of mask, probably only a pillow case with the eye holes cut out. “Ugly sucker too, no wonder he wears a mask.”
“Where did he come from?”
“How the hell would I know? I didn’t exactly have a friendly chat. Hi, Mr. Robber, where you from? Jeesh, Martha, you really took the silly pills today.”
“What room did he come out of?”
“That one right there, the one I’m lying in front of, he sure as hell couldn’t have knocked me down if he was down the hall a ways. Jeesh, wakey-wakey Martha.”
“What the hell are you doing packing a big pistol like that anyway?”
“You wouldn’t expect somebody my size to pack a dinky one would you?”
“Why are you packing any pistol? Do you have a permit to carry it?”
“Sure, the sheriff gave me one if I’d promise to date his brother in law. I did, so he gave me one.”
“He must hate his brother-in-law.”
“What makes you say that? I am one fine specimen of womanhood, you know.”
“Exactly, to wish that off on his brother-in-law, oh well, hell. We can discuss that later. I better call the cops.”
“There must be a phone in that office.”
“No that’s where the robber was. I heard a shot besides yours, I don’t think I want to know what’s in there.”
“Use one up front then. Help me up, I’ll go with you. I wonder where all the other help is?”
“Let the cops figure that out, come on.” Martha does her best to help Tilly up. As she figured, Tilly pretty much has to get herself up. She stoops to pick up her purse and things. “Leave that be, Tilly, this is a crime scene now.”
“Screw that, I’m not leaving my stuff layin’ around so they can keep it.” Tilly shoves everything back in her huge purse. It only looks huge when Tilly isn’t carrying it. They try to make the call from one of the salesman’s desks, there’s no dial tone. Martha tries dialing 9 first, still nothing.
Martha wishes now she had a cell phone, but on her small pension and part-time librarian pay, it seems like such an extravagance. Her husband George is a janitor for the school system, he doesn’t make a hell of a lot either, but they do ok. She tries all the phones she can find, nothing, until she tries a phone at some kind of computerized switchboard. It dials out. She just calls nine-one-one.
Martha and Tilly sit down on one of the uncomfortable couches out front to wait on the police. It doesn’t take them terribly long, in actual time. To Martha, it seems like it took days.
The first policemen on the scene take their statements. The older one has Martha show him just where Tilly was down at. She takes him back, points to the spot, then he shoos her towards the front, as he begins his search.
When Martha gets back to the front, Tilly has the young officer pinned against the wall. She has him by the throat, his feet are dangling in the air as he kicks wildly. “Tilly, put him down!”
“No, I’ll choke the life out of the worm. He wants to take my gun. I told him he wasn’t man enough, he’s not.”
“PUT HIM DOWN NOW!” Tilly relents, the poor young officer slumps to the floor. “Now they will be arresting you for that.”
“Wanna bet? Them and what army?”
“Well, you might have a point there.”
“Ain’t nobody gettin’ my gun until they pry it from my cold dead fingers. If this little runt here thinks he can take me on, let him try. Once they get hold of them, you never get them back.”
The officer has his color back, if his color is crimson red in the face. He scrambles to his feet, then trots off to the back to find his partner. Soon, many more policemen are there, with tech guys and an ambulance. It gets to be a real circus. Martha and Tilly have to tell their story dozens of times.
The policemen bring out most of the people that work there from some room in the back. The best Martha can overhear, they were locked up back there, all but the manager. Martha figures the manager is the one that getting toted out on the gurney. The paramedics are working on him fiercely.
This makes Martha feel a bit bad that she didn’t go in the room to see what happened. She might have been able to help him. She does know some first aid. Oh well, it’s too late to worry about that now.
One of the detectives, (at least that’s who they think he is, he is wearing a suit, not a uniform,) asks them to go down to headquarters so that Tilly can look at mug books or have an artist make a drawing, since she is the only one that actually saw the guy’s face. Tilly rides in the police car, probably to try to put the moves on the detective. Martha follows in her Buick.
When they get to the station, Tilly and the officer park in the fenced in lot for police cars. Martha has to park in the visitors lot. By the time Martha finds them, Tilly is working with a sketch artist on a drawing of the robber’s face. Martha just sits on a nearby bench to wait. She rethinks her sitting on that bench when a officer cuffs a hooker to it. She finds an empty chair, she pulls it near Tilly.
The detective keeps wandering by to see how it’s going. To Martha’s surprise, Tilly is being quite detailed with the sketch artist. “No, a little longer on the hair right there, no shorter there. No, not a full beard, just stubble, like three days worth of growth on somebody that doesn’t grow them real well. No, more of a dirty blonde. The eyes are bluer.” She keeps telling the artist things like that for about two hours. When she is finally satisfied, the portrait could just as well be a photograph of the guy. At the last second, Tilly has the artist add a couple more pock marks.
The guy has blue eyes, dirty blond shaggy hair, a scar on his face, plus lots of little pock marks, and a stubbly beard. He is ugly, Tilly was right about that. The detective comes by, he is amazed at the detail. “Wow, you must be pretty sure that’s him.”
“That’s not him, silly, that’s just a drawing. It does capture his image pretty well.” Tilly says, with a straight face.
“That’s what I meant. Do you have somewhere you can stay? This guy might come looking for you.”
“I doubt that, when I fired off my .44 auto-mag, he laid rubber with his tennis shoes. How would he find me, anyway? It’s not like I worked there.”
“With the internet, there must be tons of ways. You’re probably safe enough though. I don’t think he’ll want to tangle with you. He’s probably out of the state, at least the city by now, if he has any brains at all.”
“He wouldn’t have if I wouldn’t have missed. I’m gonna have to figure out how to hit where I mean to while knocked on my ass.”
“You figure that out, you best come teach us all.”
“I’ll do that. Are we done now?”
“Just a second, I need you to sign your statements I typed up while you were working with the artist.” The detective puts Tilly’s statement in front of her, Martha gets hers. They read them, then sign them. Tilly makes sure to slip the detective her number, even though he has it in his notes and on the forms.
“Call me sometime, maybe we can go shooting together.”
“Maybe, this job keeps me pretty busy. Usually on my days off, I kind of like to take it easy. Watch some movies, grill some steaks, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds good to me, I’m up for that too.”
“I’ll let you know when I get another day off. With cases like this piling up, it might be a while.”
“Ok, let me know. See you around. Catch this bozo will you?”
“All I can do is keep investigating. If he’s left the metro area, I don’t hold out much hope of catching him.”
“ Ok, laters.” Martha follows in Tilly’s wake as she bustles out the main doors. Tilly seems to be ticked off.
“Why are you ticked off, Tilly? That detective was nice enough.”
“Yeah, he was alright. I’m ticked off because I didn’t get my new ride. It’s too late now, or I would have you take me to the Springs to check them out. Can we do that tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow. I work tomorrow, all day, that’s my big day. Now that I’m semi-retired and work only part time, I don’t get to spend as much time there as I would like.”
“I’ve never seen what you like about libraries so much. They are useful, when you need them, but why you want to spend so much time there I just never did get.”
“I guess I’m just an incurable bibliophile.”
“Isn’t there a pill you can take for that, a shot, something?”
“Now you’re being silly. A bibliophile is someone that loves books.”
“Isn’t that rather kinky?”
“Not like that, jeesh. I guess it’s like so many other things. If I have to explain, you wouldn’t understand anyway.”
“Probably not, you with all your twenty dollar words and college education. I barely made it through high school. I know I’m not so smart, don’t rub it in.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, jeesh.” The drive back to Martha’s is silent from that point on. When they get there, Tilly gets in her Caddy then leaves, without another word. Martha knows Tilly’s feelings are hurt, but there just isn’t anyway to make it better.
Martha putters around the house, gets dinner started, then sits at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. George comes in from work, after the usual smooches, Martha tells him all about what happened that day.
George listens, then says, “I swear, that girl can’t even go buy a car without something wild happening. Maybe you should just put all those accounts in her name alone so you don’t have to tag along with her all the time.”
“She’d blow it all in, probably lose her houses too, then wind up living with us. You want that?”
“Not in a million years. I’d be in the grave or nuthouse in no time.”
“Yeah, you probably would be. Tilly is difficult to get used to being around, that’s for sure.”
“Impossible, is more like it.”
“I can deal with it.”
“Only you, because you grew up with her. I bet she seems almost normal to you.”
“No, not really. The only thing normal about Tilly is what’s normal for her.
“First chance you get, you really should take her to get one of those vehicles. That’s the first sensible request she’s made that I remember.”
“I’ll see if she wants to go on Saturday.”
“Do that, might be best if you called her now. It might make her feel better.”
“I’ll do that, keep an eye on dinner will you. She can get long winded sometimes.”
Martha goes to the phone in the living room. She punches in Tilly’s number. Tilly answers on the second ring. “Hey, Martha. I figured out what you meant, I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“Great, Tilly. I can’t stay on the phone long, dinner is on the stove. I just thought maybe we could go to the Springs on Saturday, to find your new ride.”
“That’ll be great. We can have lunch, make a day of it. We haven’t had a day out like that in a long time.”
“Ok, we’ll do that, let’s leave here around nine, then.”
“Nine, it’s like dark at nine and the places are closed.”
“Nine in the morning.”
“There’s a nine in the morning? I never get up that early. For a new ride, I’ll try.”
“Ok, I’ll come by your place to pick you up, that way if you aren’t awake I can pound on the door until you get up.”
“Ok, see you then. Enjoy your supper.”
“I will, bye.”
Martha hangs up. She knows Tilly’s feelings are still hurt. Tilly never was good at hiding anything like that. She wasn’t her usual wild self.
Martha goes back into the kitchen. She finishes cooking dinner. George and Martha enjoy their simple meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, with a side of corn. Their evening after dinner is as usual for Thursdays, CSI on TV, then reading for a while before they go to bed.

Chapter 2

Saturday morning dawns bright. The birds are singing. There’s not a cloud in the sky. Martha feels like singing, except for the fact that she can’t carry a tune with a bucket, she would. Everyone always tells her she should sing tenor. Ten or twelve miles away.
Martha fixes breakfast for her and George wearing her robe and slippers, usual for a Saturday. They eat, have coffee, then look at their sections of the newspaper like usual. George takes the comics and hobby section. Martha takes the rest. George never concerns himself with world events. He figures he can’t change them, why worry his head about them.
Martha dresses in a flowery spring dress today. She may need a sweater with it, but a nice spring dress suits her mood. After she kisses George, she asks, “What are you planning on doing today?”
“Nothin’ much. I might do a little messin out in the shop, nothing major.”
“Ok, don’t be spending a bunch of money at the home center. We need to start saving up a little for a vacation.”
“Oh, no, you’re not going to make me go somewhere then call it a vacation again are you? My idea of a vacation is staying home, doing what I want to do. Not driving all over the country, looking at things I don’t care to look at in the first place.”
“Once a year, we get away from here. If you can think of someplace you’d like to go, fine. It’s no vacation for me if we stay home. I still have to fix meals and clean house.”
“Ok, ok, whatever. See you when you get back. Maybe I’ll do some studyin’ on it. I ‘magine there’s got to be some place in this country I’d like to see.”
“Ok, fine. Have a good day.” Martha gives him another smooch, then marches out the door, purse and sweater in hand. The Buick fires right up. Everything seems to be going right so far. Of course, she hasn’t picked up Tilly yet.
The ride over to Tilly’s take a bit. Traffic this time of day is always a mess. Eventually, Martha gets to Tilly’s huge brick house in a classier neighborhood. To her surprise, Tilly is waiting with bells on, literally. She has on some Middle Eastern style outfit. It has lots of flowing material, with little tiny bells all over it. It makes a pleasant sound when she moves. This is a total surprise to Martha, a pleasant one, as Tilly’s surprises go.
Tilly bounds to the car, lighter on her feet than usual. “What gives, Tilly? Why the get up?”
“I’ve been taking dance classes. We are doing belly dancing now. Don’t you just love the outfit?”
“It’s a rather odd outfit for car shopping, but it is nice.”
“Yeah, it’s just so comfortable, I figured why not.”
“Ok by me, did you find out where the dealers are for what you want in Colorado Springs?”
“Sure, they are both located in what they call Motor City.”
“Ok, I’ve been there before. As soon as we get out of the in-town traffic, it shouldn’t be too bad going that direction.”
“I hope not, I really want to get my new wheels today.” Tilly is laying the seat back so she can be comfortable.
Martha can’t resist. “You can get wheels at any tire store, I thought you wanted the entire vehicle?”
“Oh, don’t start your word games with me today. I’m not in the mood.”
“Aw, darn, that’s no fun.”
“Later, after we get me a new vehicle, maybe then we can play the word games.”
“Ok, whatever.” The trip is fairly silent, fortunately it doesn’t take very long, since most of the traffic at this time of day is coming into the metro area, not going out.
The exit to Motor City takes them past the Hummer dealer first. The salesman here is on the ball, he runs right out of the typical metal and glass fronted block building when he sees the ladies looking at one of the deluxe models. “Good morning ladies. Can I show you all the features of this fine vehicle?”
“There’s just one thing we need to find out first. Tilly needs to be able to fit in the driver’s seat. That’s a bit of a problem for her, as you can imagine.”
“Some really large men drive these, I don’t think it will be a problem. He unlocks the door, puts the key in the ignition, turning it to on, but not starting the engine. “With the eight-way adjustable seat, and the three-way adjustable steering, it could fit either of you.”
He shows Tilly how to adjust the seat, and steering wheel. She does manage to get to where she doesn’t have to hunch over to drive it. She doesn’t seem highly pleased with it. “I don’t know, I don’t really care for my view of the road, or actually the lack of it. I think we best go look at that CTX.” Tilly climbs back out of the Hummer.
The salesman says, “You’ll pay way more for that CTX. With all the goodies, this deluxe version is only sixty five thousand and change. The CTX base price is one-hundred-twenty thousand before you add a thing.”
“I’m not worried about that. My many husbands left me pretty well fixed. I just want something I’m comfortable in. If I have to buy a full-on big rig, I will. You have a nice day anyway.”
Tilly and Martha drive on down the road to the International truck place. The sign lets everyone know quite clearly it’s a division of Navistar. They have two of the big brutes on display, plus a couple of other smaller versions similar in size and looks to the Hummer. Tilly doesn’t even look at those. They have a brilliant red, or a brilliant blue CTX. This will be a difficult choice for Tilly, she likes both colors about equally.
The salesman comes out to greet them. Unlike most salesmen in slick suits, he is wearing jeans, a western shirt, cowboy boots and a Stetson. “Howdy, ladies. Are you really interested in one of these brutes? Not for nothin’ but not many women are.”
Contrary to his dress, Martha picks up on a definite Eastern seaboard, probably New Jersey inflection in his speech and choice of words. It’s not highly noticeable, just a bit, like he’s been trying to get rid of it, but hasn’t quite succeeded yet. “Tilly here has her heart set on one. It seems it’s one of very few things that will fit her.”
“Oh, this baby will fit the tallest man in the world, I’m sure she can fit fine.” He opens the door of the blue one for Tilly to get in. He gives her the key. She turns the key. It rumbles to life. Tilly grins a mile wide. She doesn’t have to adjust a thing to fit. Whoever adjusted it last must have been just her size, if that’s possible.
The salesman, who gives his name as Bob, helps Martha get in the back. He gets in the passenger side. He begins explaining a few things about it that are different from a car, like letting the air pressure come up so the brakes work properly. “It does have a fully automatic transmission, so it’s not all that difficult to drive.”
Tilly drives it through Motor City, just grinning the whole time. She takes it onto the highway. For a diesel, it gets up and moves pretty well. It’s got a lot of nice fancy touches too. More doohickeys to play with than Martha can fathom. They eventually get back to the dealership.
“Is the red one the same thing?” Tilly asks Bob. “Almost exactly, except for the color and trim. They are both the full deluxe versions with everything they have for them.”
“How much for this blue one? Remember, it’s a demonstrator now. I’m not paying brand new price for a demonstrator.”
“As it sits, it will be one-hundred and forty-eight thousand, plus taxes, title fees, all that stuff.”
“How about one forty even, out the door?”
“Let me ask inside, that doesn’t seem too out of line to me.” In a few minutes, Bob comes back out. “They say one-forty-two, out the door, for a cash sale. They will even top up the fuel tanks.”
“OK, we’ve got to go to a bank to get cash, I think.”
Martha says, “No need for that, if we can just do a bank transfer.”
“They do those all the time, let me take you inside to get the paperwork started.” They all three go inside, the ladies in the too typical partitioned off cubicles of the office are very polite yet efficient about getting the paperwork done. A phone call to their insurance man, then a fax from him, gets the insurance taken care of. Tilly is smiling broader than Martha can remember ever seeing her smile, at least for a very long time.
On the way out of Motor City, Tilly wheels into a U-haul place. Martha doesn’t know what she wheeled in there for. When she gets out of the Buick, Tilly clambers down from her truck, still grinning. “Let’s rent a tow trailer for your car, then we can ride together. It can’t cost all that much.” Martha sees the wisdom of this, so they go inside. They get a trailer rented, the man there helps them get it hitched up, the car on it and tied down, then gives Tilly a few pointers on backing one up and so forth. Tilly is still grinning a mile wide as they head over to Nevada Boulevard for burgers at their favorite place in the Springs, Red Top.
They give the waitress their orders, the usual four for Tilly, one for Martha. Martha knows that Tilly will get half of hers too. Burgers the size of dinner plates aren’t something Martha can eat all of, not even when she’s very hungry. They are very tasty, Martha kind of envies Tilly in that she gets to taste that much of them.
While they wait on their burgers, Tilly says, “I wonder if they caught that ugly dude that stopped me from getting my ride the other day?”
“I haven’t heard anything. I would have figured you would be keeping tabs on that detective.”
“Tabs? You mean like that silly diet drink they used to have? Or tabs like on file folders? Why would he want either of those on him?”
“I meant that you would be checking with him trying to get a date.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. He’s nice enough, but I don’t think I want to date a policeman.”
“Why not?”
“First off, what if it gets serious? He could get shot.”
“Nobody would shoot him for getting serious with you. They might send him to a psychiatrist, but they wouldn’t shoot him.”
“I meant if we started getting serious, and he got shot, I don’t think I could take it. Not again, three husbands dying out on me was enough.”
“Detectives usually only show up at crime scenes after the fact. You came closer to getting shot than he did.”
“Hmmm, you have a point there. Cops tend to be kinky. I don’t know that I like that anymore. They always want to play with their handcuffs and things.”
“You mean you did at one time, but not now?”
“Honey, I’ve had six husbands, plus… I don’t know how many boyfriends. I’ve tried it all at least twice, three of four times usually, just to make sure I didn’t like it.”
“Oh hush, that’s just way too much information for a librarian’s ears.”
“Oh, don’t tell me when you were younger you didn’t try all kinds of things.”
“Well, um…er… no comment.”
“I know you librarians get kinky when you let your hair down. You have all that info from books you just have to try.” Fortunately, for Martha, their food is served. That ends that conversation for the time being.
When they have finished eating, Tilly pays the bill, plus leaves a generous tip for the waitress. They walk out to the truck. Some guy is trying to pick the lock on Tilly’s side. Tilly signals Martha to stay back.
Tilly pulls another big gun out of her purse. To Martha, it looks like a military Colt .45, almost, but this is of the queen size variety. Martha knows that Tilly buys guns like some women buy shoes. She even does her own reloading, sometimes making ammo from scratch, like she does for the .44 auto-mag.
For some reason, the guy is so intent on his work, he either doesn’t hear or doesn’t pay attention to the tinkling bells near him. Tilly levels the pistol at his head, about a foot away from his ear. “You like my truck that much do you?”
The guy jumps, then the big tough thief gets a load of the hand cannon in his face. He passes out. Tilly doesn’t hesitate, she strips his clothes off him, including his underwear. She ties his hands behind his back with his belt. She finds a small pistol in his clothes. This, she takes the cartridges out of it, then stuffs it right up this not-so-tough guy’s ass. She takes what cash he had on him, his ID too. The rest of his things she tosses in a nearby dumpster. Tilly drags his candy ass out of the way, then unlocks the truck.
Martha and Tilly climb in. Tilly starts the rig, waits for the air pressure, then drives away. Martha is too flabbergasted to say a thing for a few miles. Finally, she manages to say, “Shouldn’t you have called the police?”
“Then sit around and wait for them to show? Then wait hours while they stand around with their thumbs in their asses? I think not. Let that bozo explain how he got that way. Since he was passed out, he won’t have the foggiest.”
“You shouldn’t have took his money, that’s theft.”
“Right, he’s going to try to steal my rig, not to mention your car that is on the trailer behind, and you’re worried about his measly few dollars? What’s he going to do report us? ‘Officer, they took my money when I was trying to steal their truck.’ Yeah, right”
“I wonder what went through that guy’s mind when he saw the giant Tinkerbell with the big gun pointed at him.”
“I don’t have the foggiest, at least he didn’t let a mess go in his pants, that could have been real bad.”
“Yeah, I bet you would have changed your mind about sticking the gun up there then.”
“You can be sure ‘bout that!!” Both of them are laughing like crazy now.
“What kind of gun is that you’re packing today?”
“It’s called a .50 GI by Guncrafter Industries. It’s pretty much the same as a regular Colt 1911, but in fifty caliber. You can swap mags and barrels to make it back into a .45.
“Why did you shove that little gun up that guy’s butt like that?”
“So if the cops do catch him, they can get him on carrying a concealed weapon, but still bust him for being naked in public.” They are just roaring now. The trip back to Littleton doesn’t seem to take long.
Tilly backs the trailer into Martha’s driveway, just as if she’s been doing it all her life. They manage to get the car unhooked and off the trailer. They leave the car, then drive to a local U-haul place to drop off the trailer. Martha rides to the county courthouse with Tilly to get the truck officially registered. The taxes and fees are pretty hefty on such an expensive rig.
Once that is done, Tilly drops Martha off at her house. Tilly roars off to cruise around town in her new rig. Martha goes into the kitchen to figure out what she’s going to fix for supper. 


Chapter 3


Martha’s phone starts ringing in the middle of the night. There’s only one person it could be, Tilly. Martha reaches for the phone on the night stand. “Hrmph, hello.”
“Martha, get over here right away, I just shot a man that was breaking into my house.”
“Ok, I’ll be there as quick as I can. Is the man dead?”
“No not yet.”
“Did you call the cops and ambulance yet?”
“I just called 911 and told them what happened. Nobody’s here yet except this guy bleeding on my driveway.”
“Do what you can to stop the bleeding. You don’t want him to die.”
“Who says so? I did when I shot at him.”
“Oh Tilly, get a towel or something, put it over the wound and hold pressure on it. Just do what I say for once will you.”
“Ok, hurry up and get over here.”
Martha rousts George from his deep sleep. They get dressed hurriedly, then drive over to Tilly’s as quickly as Martha can make herself drive, just a little over the speed limit.
When they near Tilly’s an ambulance passes them speeding the other way. As they pull up to Tilly’s, a strange scene confronts Martha’s eyes. Three cops are down on the ground, two are passed out, one is holding his crotch puking on the driveway. A fourth has his gun out, keeping the car between himself and Tilly. She’s looking very pissed off. Dressed in her Superman PJ's, she is quite the sight.
Martha gets out, runs to Tilly’s side. “What the hell is going on here, Tilly?”
“Well, that first one said he was going to impound my new truck. When I told him no damn way he started to call for a tow truck anyway, so I decked him. The second one said he was going to read my rights, so I showed him my right and a left too. The third one tried to cuff me. I told him I don’t go for that kinky stuff, but he started manhandling me so I kicked him in his manhood. That pansy over there behind the car is scared of an mature woman, so he’s called for backup.”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, now you will go to jail.”
“They better have more than these pansy guys to do it. I’m not going anywhere without a fight.”
“I think they get that idea. You’re lucky they haven’t tazered you or gassed you. That one I kicked tried, man did he fart when I kicked him.”
Six more cop cars come roaring up, one of them an unmarked one. The detective from the other day gets out of the unmarked car, looking quite disheveled. “Tilly, what the hell have you done now.”
“I caught some guy trying to steal my new truck. When I drew down on him he turned towards me with a pistol. I shot him. Hit him in the nuts, I think.”
“Not that, why are you kicking the crap out of these fine policemen.”
They want to take my truck, then they wanted to cuff me. Ain’t none of you man enough for that. My truck stays where it is, and so am I, unless you think you can take me.”
“I’m not stupid enough to try that. Lets go inside, sit down and talk this over calmly.” Another ambulance is pulling up to see to the downed officers. Tilly, Martha, George and the detective, Larry Myers, go into Tilly’s house.
When they are all seated around the breakfast table, Mildred, Tilly’s housekeeper for some thirty years, gets them all coffee. She smiles knowingly then goes back to bed. She’s been witness to many of Tilly’s escapades, she’s not the least bit shocked or surprised.
Larry asks, “Why did the officer say he wanted to take your truck?”
“Something about it being evidence. I’ve seen what you guys do to vehicles that are evidence. You cut them up in pieces then give the owner back a truckload of pieces that are so cut up they cant even be put back together.”
“Did the officer have a warrant?”
"No, not that he showed me.”
“Ok, he can’t do that, that makes him no better than a car thief. Since everything else stems from that illegal act, I think I can get them to drop any charges. You all stay right here.”
“Tell ‘em I got a fancy lawyer, I’m thinking of suing them. That might shut their pansy asses up.”

***

Larry marches outside. He speaks to the officers that are sitting on the back of the ambulance. “Who was going to try to take her truck? “

“I was,” says a big blond officer, his nametag reads R. Richardson. “It’s evidence in a crime, that man was shot in the groin.”
“Was there another gun besides hers on the scene?”
“Yeah, the guy had one laying by him, a Lorcin.380. A cheap throw-down gun.”
“So why did you want to impound the truck? Was there a bullet hole in the truck or something?”
“No, she said he was trying to steal it, it’s got to have the tech guys go over it.”
“You best call them out here for that, or you’ll have to deal with Tilly again.”
“The only way I want to deal with that broad is in handcuffs and shackles.”
“Well, since you had no legal right to take her truck, she had every right to shoot your ass. You’re lucky she didn’t.”
“You’re not going to arrest her?”
“Are you crazy? Even if I could, then it gets out in open court how you tried to take her truck illegally, not to mention that it goes into the record that the three of you got your asses whipped by one mature lady.”
“Yeah, the press would eat us alive. As far as I’m concerned, just skip it.”
“I’ll try to get her not to file charges against the three off you. She’s talking about suing the department. She’s got a case from what I’m hearing. You guys get yourselves back to the station. I would be figuring out how to write this up if I were you. The guys that pulled up when I did are still busting a gut over her calling you guys pansies.”
“Yeah, we’ll be the butt of a lot of jokes for a while, I suppose.”
“Better that than have the whole world know it.”
“Yeah, maybe so. We’re outta here, later Larry.”
“Later, Dick.”
“Oh, please don’t tell that broad people call me Dick. Tell her my name is Richard.”
“Ok, Richard, bye.” Larry ambles back inside the huge house, looking at all the fine antiques and things on the way to the kitchen this time. He hadn’t noticed the first time.
Tilly says, “Well, do we rumble or do those pansies see the error of their ways?”
“They are heading to the station. I talked them out of pressing charges this time. However, if you do it again, I’ll bring the dart gun the animal control guys use, dart your butt then haul you in myself.”
“You better be eating your Wheaties then, Larry. I don’t think you can lift me all by yourself.”
“Trust me, after tonight, I’d have plenty of volunteers to help. What I can’t figure is somebody coming to this neighborhood, then trying to steal an easy to spot truck like that. There aren’t too many of them on the streets, it couldn’t have been for parts.”
“I don’t know, some guy was trying to steal it in the Springs, just after I got it. Hold on, I’ll get you his ID, maybe you can ask him.”
Larry looks at her quizzically while she gets up to go get the ID. When she shows him the ID, she explains how she got it, leaving out the part about taking the guy’s cash. “Is this the same guy that you shot tonight?”
“No, it wasn’t this guy tonight is a bit older, and taller. He’s just about as ugly though. Is there some rule petty crooks have to be ugly?”
“Not that I know of, but then I’m not in the Crook’s Union.”
“They have a union? What for, what do they want, better hours? Richer victims?”
“No, Tilly. I was just trying to make a joke.”
“You best try harder, that one didn’t make it.”
“I guess not. Sit tight for a moment, I’ll make a call, then be right back with you. Larry reaches for his cell phone, but doesn’t have it with him, he neglected to take it out of it’s charger. “Um…I don’t have my cell phone, I’ll go use the radio in my car, I’ll be right back.” Larry marches outside to do that.
Martha says, “Tilly, you’ve just got to quit beating people up to get your way. It’s going to really get you in trouble one of these times.”
“What, I suppose you would just take their guff? Yeah you would. I won’t not while there’s an ounce of strength left in me.”
“I’m just saying that you need to use tact, instead of brawn.”
“Tact? Is that some kind of new martial art? Or is that one of them fancy new weapons?”
“No, it means you can get what you want by talking calmly and politely to people.”
“I can’t, case you ain’t never noticed, I’m not a polite sort of person.”
“Trust me, I’ve noticed. You can’t just go around beating up cops all the time. Sooner or later they’ll lock you up for it.”
“Not for long, not around here anyway. I know people, and they are powerful people. If I get locked up, I call a judge or the DA, I’m out before they finish the paperwork. I used to date the Chief judge of the state supreme court, and the DA too. 'Course they didn't have them high falutin' positions back then. If I should decide to tell what I know, they would be out of office in a heartbeat.”
“Justice.”
“Yeah that’s justice for you.”
“No, when they’re on the supreme court, they’re called a justice.”
“I don’t think so Martha, not at the state level. That’s for them fancy boys in DC.”
“You may be right. I’ll have to check on that.”
“I just call him judge-E-pooh anyway.”
“I bet he hates that.”
“He’s never said so. Then again, when you’ve got the goods on somebody, they don’t say too much.”
“What could you possibly know about him that would be big enough for him to keep you out of jail?”
“That’s for me to know. I’ won’t tell unless I have to.” George rolls his eyes, but knows better than to say a word.
Larry ambles back in to the kitchen. “Weird, according to all reports, trucks like yours have been stolen or somebody tried stealing them all over the region. I wonder what the guy at the dealership wanted, he didn’t take any cash with him, they didn’t keep that much around anyway. There were some files tossed about. If the manager, Mr. Lewis comes out of it any time soon I guess I can ask him.”
“I didn’t think there were that many around?” Martha inquires.
“Not of the fancy ones, no, but a lot of cities and counties use the plainer versions for many things. Some of the new ones of them have been stolen or broken into too. They leave the older ones alone. There’s been thirty reports of thefts, break ins, or attempted thefts of that kind of truck. Somebody wants one real bad or something. I don’t know what the deal is.”
“I guess I can put the top up on my Caddy then switch places with my truck. That might help. I’ll have to get in there and clear out some of the stuff I’ve got stored in there to have room for both of them.”
Larry asks, “That’s got to be a six car garage, what all do you have in there.”
“Oh, things I couldn’t bear to part with from six different marriages. I don’t know what I’ll do with it all, I don’t want to get rid of any of it.”
For the first time since they arrived, George speaks up, “Get yourself a few of those storage containers delivered. You can either keep them here, or they will take them and store them for you.”
“That’s not a bad idea, but I think I’ll keep them here. Can I just buy them outright so I don’t have to pay on them every month?”
“I suppose so. You’ll have to check that out tomorrow…er later today.”
“Ok, I’ll do that then. Thanks George.”
“No problem. Just don’t ask me to come help you move the stuff.”
“A puny guy like you, what help would you be.”
“Exactly my point. Come on Martha, I want to get back to sleep, I have to work today, I can’t do it on just a few hours sleep.”
“OK, just a minute.” Martha gives Tilly a hug, then picks up her purse. George and Martha go out to their car. Only Larry’s car is still there. Martha wonders if Larry is going to be alright left alone with Tilly. Oh well, that’s his look out.
George and Martha drive home. They get undressed, Martha puts her nightie back on. They get in bed, cuddle up, then drift off to sleep again.

Chapter 4


Larry and Tilly have another cup of coffee. Larry doesn’t think going back to bed now is a good idea, since he has an early shift today. He asks Tilly if she used her .44 magnum on the would-be thief tonight. “No, I just used my little peashooter, a Smith and Wesson model 27 in .38 Special.”
“Why that one?”
“It’s the one I keep in the nightstand. It has the Crimson Trace laser sight grips on it. In this neighborhood, I don’t want to use anything that will carry far, so I use light loads with shot shells.”
“Doesn’t using the shot shells defeat the purpose of using the laser sight?”
“Not really, it just gives me a general idea of where I’ll hit.”
“Why did you hit that guy in the…um…er lower extremities then?”
“That’s where I was aiming.”
“Why there, of all places?”
“The shot shells won’t penetrate too far with the light loads. Anywhere else, he might still be able to use his own gun. As you can figure, you shoot a man there, he’s not thinking about any damn thing else, the pain usually puts him down for the count.”
“You certainly have thought it out. How come?”
“My second husband taught me to shoot and load my own ammo. He figured out that if there are many houses around you don’t want the bullets to carry far. So he came up with that idea. Back then, they didn’t have the frangible rounds, tazers, all that kind of thing.”
“You reload your own ammo?”
“Sure, with all the weapons I own and keep acquiring, it’s almost a must. Some of them, like the .44 auto-mag, the ammo is darn hard to find and expensive when you do. I make my own rounds for it out of cut down .308 cases.”
“I would have never have thought it.”
“Why, because I’m a mature lady, I can’t like weapons and reload my own ammo?”
“Well, um… yeah, there’s that and well… how do I say it delicately… You don’t seem too smart, in the kinds of things you would need to know for reloading.”
“Oh, you’re right about that. See, it’s like this. I have a hard time retaining what I read, but if somebody shows me something, explaining as they go, it sticks. My second husband taught me most of it. I have to keep cheat sheets for the amounts of powder to use with what bullet, there’s a whole lot of reloaders that will share that info, I couldn’t do the math involved on a good day. It’s ok, I know I’m not all that smart in the ways most people consider smart.”
“Oh, well…yeah, I suppose so. I don’t have the foggiest about reloading so you’re one up on me. I just use the ammo the department provides. Actually, other than qualifying at the range, I rarely even draw my weapon, I’ve only once had to fire it in the line of duty, that was back when I was a uniformed officer.”
“Want to go bust a few caps?”
“We can’t do that at this hour.”
“Sure we can, why can’t we?”
“Um, it’s dark, the range isn’t open, and busting any more caps around here will really have the neighbors in an uproar.”
“Come with me, I’ll show you how I stay in practice.” Tilly leads Larry down a long flight of stairs to a landing that has a steel door with a mechanical combination lock, plus an electronic hand reader and keypad. Tilly works the combination, hiding it from Larry’s view with her free hand. Detective or not, she’s not trusting anyone with the combination to this room. After she uses the palm reader then keys some numbers into the electronic pad, the door unlocks.
Larry asks, “A bit of overkill having the combination lock, the hand reader and the keypad isn’t it?”
“Not really, when you see what I’ve got in here, you’ll understand.” Once they pass through this door, there is another long flight of stairs. At the bottom of this flight is another steel door with a hand reader and keypad only.
When Tilly opens the door to this room, Larry is shocked. It opens to a full on practice range for pistols. Not just static targets, but pop up targets, static target capability, and a kind of “Hogan’s Alley” set up. Of to one side is a workbench with various reloading tools and supplies, all neatly arranged.
There are no weapons to be seen. Tilly says, loudly, “Open Sesame.” What looked to be a solid concrete wall now has a doorway through it. Tilly leads Larry through this doorway.
Again, Larry is shocked at what he sees. There are rows and rows of weapons all neatly displayed in the cabinets lining the walls, plus many more in display cases in the center of the room. The large drawers under the display areas of both the free standing display cabinets and the wall mounted ones hold many more weapons. Larry is not a real aficionado, he knows there are more kinds here than he has ever seen or heard of.
“The shootable ones are in the drawers underneath. Those in the display cases are too valuable to shoot, but they all do, even the flintlocks if you take the time to load them.”
“Wow… is that real Thompson?”
“Sure, that’s the 1928 full-auto deluxe version. Next to it is the 1940’s military version. The reproduction shooters are in the cases in the cabinet underneath.”
“Are you licensed for all this?”
“Yes, I have a firearms license, I can buy about anything they make if I want to. Mostly, I tend to like the older stuff, since I’m older stuff too.”
“Is this your entire collection?”
“Not really, I keep many of the ones I pack all the time upstairs in my bedroom. I like having different choices on different days. I do tend to stay with the larger framed stuff, since my hands are so large. Dinky guns just don’t fit me well enough to be too useful.”
“I can see that. How a weapon feels in your hand has a lot to do with how well you can shoot it. Speaking of that, do you have any Lugers that aren’t to valuable to shoot?”
“No, I don't shoot the real Lugers, any real ones are getting to valuable to shoot. There, underneath the real ones in the display case, are some reproduction shooters. They’re actually American made. With the newer steel alloys and modern machining, they may even be better than the real deal, but you won’t ever get a Luger lover to admit that.”
Larry opens up the drawer under the case. In fitted liners, are several barrel lengths of the Luger style weapons. He hefts a few, the eight inch barrel feels best to him. Larry and Tilly spend the rest of the early morning hours blasting up some targets. Tilly puts Larry to shame, but he’s having so much fun, he doesn’t really care. He even gets to try a reproduction Thompson on full auto, something he’s always wanted to do.
When it’s time for Larry to head to work, he leaves with a new respect for Tilly. Yeah, she’s wild, she’s eccentric, but she’s a hell of a lot of fun to be around when people aren’t trying to steal from her.
Tilly spends a bit of time cleaning up the weapons they fired. She organizes the used brass for later reloading. She puts the .45 auto brass in the tumbler for cleaning, then sets it’s timer. She locks everything back up on her way upstairs. She didn’t get much sleep, but that won’t stop her from doing what she needs to do today.
She calls a place that will sell her some of the storage containers. They’ll be delivered that very morning. She calls some of her reloading friends to help load things into the containers. For a bit of range time, they’re happy to help.
By two in the afternoon, she has the garage cleared out, both vehicles are safely locked in the garage. She turns the alarm system on for the garage only. She joins takes her friends down to the range to let them have some fun. She mostly just watches, she’s tired, she’s already to busted all the caps she cares to today.
After a couple hours using the Hogan’s Alley set up, her friends pick up their brass, then bid her goodbye. It’s a great bunch of people in this group. Most of the guys bring their wives, they like to shoot even though they don’t really care to reload.
Tilly locks up the range again, then after a snack, decides a nap is in order. The way she feels right now, she may just sleep until morning. Mildred will lock up the house and turn on the rest of the alarms if she does.