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The Little Old Lady Gets Even
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The Little Old Lady Gets Even
-This lady's pride was hurt, her heart was broken. She felt betrayed, maybe she had been singled out by her ex-fiance, maybe the purse-snatcher had the same idea. Well, she'd show them.
[1,123 words]
Vera Louch (The Tea Lady)
[April 2008]
The Little Old Lady Gets Even
Vera Louch (The Tea Lady)

Abigale Williams was a seventy-five year old retired school teacher. She was short, slender, and because of severe arthritis, walked with a cane. She wore her curly grey hair pulled back in a small bun, giving full view of a smooth bronze face. The only wrinkles were the few laugh lines around her full lips. Her eyes were light brown with a twinkle that sometimes, revealed a certain sneakiness. Abigale, known in the neighborhood as Ms Abby, had been living in her tiny, second floor apartment for two years, cashing her social security checks and making small talk with the owners and workers of the liquor store, next door. Other than her teaching career, no one knew much about her past, and she liked it that way. She also enjoyed watching the collection of people that hung out around the store. They seemed, to her, like lost souls, sharing empty dreams while sharing a whisky bottle. Whenever the crowd became too loud or rowdy, the store owner and his manager son-in-law would clear the area by walking two large loud barking German Shepherd dogs. The owner of the liquor store was Tom, nicknamed 'Chocolate Mountain' during his years as a middle weight boxer. The manager was Jeff, a tough, red cheeked, double chinned,two hundred pound ex-marine, and he was Tom's son-in-law. When the two of them and their dogs started their patrol around the store,someone would yell out, "Here comes the 'salt and pepper patrol'!" That was the signal for people to move on. --One day, after cashing her check and leaving the store, Ms Abby's purse was snatched. The man, wearing dirty khaki pants, a greasy blue pullover sweater and dirty sneakers, had been leaning against the building. A sneer seemed to cover his wholoe unshaven, dirty face. He just crept behind Abigale and grabbed the purse by the shoulder strap. When she wouldn't let go immediately, the man gave her a look of evil through pale, hate-filled, watery blue eyes, then slapped her hard, leaving a red hand shaped welt on her check. After whispering a threat to her, the man snatched the purse and ran off. No one in the crowd seemed to pay them any attention. When the police arrived, everyone took off, leaving Ms Abby and the store clerks to answer any and all questions. --The police never got back to her and she spent the next few weeks at home, recuperating. Sometimes Tom, Jeff, or one of the clerks would stop by to check on her. Sometimes they could hear her yelling, "Stop, theif, NOOO!" Jeff or Tom would knock on her door, and to each inquiry, she would answer, "I'm fine, Hon. You'll see me soon." The only time she ever opened her front door was to ask Tom,"Could you please bring me a small screwdriver?" "Do you need me to tighten your glasses," he asked. "No," she replied, "I can handle it, I just need a regular screwdriver." --A few weeks later, Abigale emerged from her home. She was wearing a light blue, long sleeved pantsuit and windbreaker, and a big smile on her face. With the aid of her cane, she walked stiffly to the liquor store, staying only a fer minutes, chatting with Tom and Jeff. Moments after she left the store, the clerks were startled by the sounds of screams, cheers, and the sudden re-appearance of a visibly shaken Abigale (her purse strap torn) with bloodstains splattered on her pants and she was limping painfully after having dropped her cane. "Call an ambulance, there's a man laying on the sidewalk and he's bleeding a lot," she was almost screaming. As Jeff rushed outside to see what happened, Tom hurriedly dialed 911, and the ambulance rushed to the scene. --Later, during the police interviews, only Abigale and the clerks were on hand, everyone else having run off as soon as the police appeared. "It all happened so fast," said Abby (with excitement in her voice). "I felt someone tug on my purse strap, then I heard a scream and the next thing I knew, the young man was on the ground, laying in all this blood!" The police ended their questions quickly, so that one of the clerks could walk a very nervous Abigale, home. --Once the would-be purse snatcher (identified later as Henry Donzeol, a small time crook) regained consciousness, he was unable to answer any questions. "All I could think about was getting away, when I felt something hit my arm. When I looked, all I saw was blood, then something hit me again, and I blacked out," said Donzeol, woozy from medication. Neither Tom, Jeff, nor any of the clerks were able to give an account of what happened to Henry. "I rushed outside the minute Ms Abby told me what happened," said Jeff, at the interview. None of the crowd that usually hung out at the liquor store could be found for questioning. --No one was ever charged for slicing Henry Donzeol. --That night,back in Abigale's apartment,she quietly got her clothes together for the laundry. She would have to soak that nasty man's blood out of her pantsuit. She smiled as she thought about the day's events. Then she thought about her ex-finance Joe,and the cruel joke he played on her, years ago. At the time, he revealed that their engagement had not been serious, just a bet between friends. He didn't even have the guts to face her, he sent a telegram, instead. "Dear Abby," it read, "My homeboy Phil, and I had a bet that I couldn't get you to agree to marry me, and I won. I won't be ready to settle down, however, for a long while, yet. Have a nice life, and thanks for helping me win, Joe. P.S., I wouldn't say anything about it when you see me and Phil at school, you know how people like to talk. You can keep the ring, after all, you paid for it." Abby was so embarrassed, that she ran; yet, no matter where she went, she saw Joe's face in almost every man she met, laughing at her, waiting to make a fool of her, again, and again. As a matter of fact, Abby was thinking of Joe as she watched Henry, who seemed to watch for her. She even knew the right time to go outside, when the crowd would just begin to disburse, not wanting to become involved with anaything. Finally, she remembered something. "I must remember to return that screwdriver," she thought aloud, "the butcher knife worked much better." Yes, thought Abigale, as she carefully washed Henry Donzeol's blood from her butcher knife, this had indeed been an eventful day. THE END.



"The story is pretty good. Keep in mind, paragraphs must be indented and separated. Remember to proofread the story before send (see the word anaything, perhaps you meant anything). " -- marbry, St. Louis, MO, usa.


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© 2008 Vera Louch (The Tea Lady)
April 2008

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