“No, but I heard. Well, okay, maybe a little experience. But not with a stalker.”
My mother was at the door waiting for me. “How do you attract these strange men?” my mother asked. “They're never normal.”
“He's a stalker,” Lula said. “He might even be dangerous.”
I turned and looked at Lula. “What about the sealed lips?”
“I forgot. I got carried away.”
“He's confused,” I said to my mother. “I just need to talk to him. Where is he?”
“He's in the kitchen. I have a full house today. Your grandmother is in the dining room with Betty Greenblat and Ruth Szuch. They're all insane. They each have a computer, and they're playing that game. They don't even take bathroom breaks. I think they're all wearing Depends. They said they're ganging up on the griefer. They don't like being disturbed, so you have to sneak past them.”
My mother, Lula, and I tiptoed past Grandma, Betty, and Ruth. They were all dressed like Zook, and they were all hunched over their computers.
“We got a bad snert here, girls,” Betty said. “Let's kick ass.”
“This looks like the Queen of the Damned costume party at the Shady Rest Nursing Home,” Lula whispered to me. “Is this what the golden years looks like?”
“I heard that,” Ruth said. “The golden years are for pussies. We went straight to brass.”
The stalker was in the kitchen stirring a pot of chili. He did a big smile when he saw me. “Surprise,” he said.
“So you're the stalker,” Lula said, looking him over. “I thought you'd be nastier. You're kind of a disappointment.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I'm not any good at this. I can't get anyone to pay attention to me.”
“You gotta look assertive if you want people to hear you,” Lula said. “You gotta talk with authority. You gotta walk the walk and use the language. You see what I'm saying?”
“I guess so. I guess I could try that.” He stiffened his spine and pointed his finger at me. “Listen, bitch...”
My mother gave him a whack on the head with her wooden spoon. “Behave yourself.”
“Don't you have anything better to do?” I asked him. “Don't you have a job?”
“I'm currently between positions. I had a job, but then I had the dream, and I had to give the job up so I could follow Brenda around.”
“Okay, now we're getting somewhere,” Lula said. “This is about a dream?”
“I told all this to the police and the judge and the psychiatrist,” the stalker said.
“Then you should have the story down good,” Lula said. “Tell it to me.”
“Three years ago, I was struck by lightning in the Wal-Mart parking lot. All my hair fell out, and when it grew back, it was this white color. And I was sort of psychic. Like sometimes people glow and I can see their aura.”
“Oh yeah? What's my aura?” Lula wanted to know.
“I'm not seeing one right now.”
“Hunh,” Lula said. “Some psychic. Can't even see my aura. I bet I have a hell of a aura, too.”
“Wait a minute. I think I'm starting to see one. It's... red.”
“That's a powerful color,” Lula said.
“Anyway, sometimes I have these vision dreams that I'm pretty sure mean something. And I started having them about Brenda. And I got this feeling that I was supposed to be protecting her. You know, like staying close by for when I got a vision of danger.”
“What's this vision of danger look like?” Lula asked him.