—like I said, I’m never going back there again. But anyway, did you hear about Claire? Mmm-hmm, keeled over in the middle of a manicure. Just like that, they said. Popped her brassiere in the process, couldn’t you just die? Janine says she said she stopped drinking, but Alice says she saw Claire sneaking one of those mini-bottles out of her purse. Can you imagine? Janine swears it wasn’t the booze, Claire just up and died with the most horrified look on her face, but Janine also swears Frank stopped sleeping around when she caught him five years ago so you know how much weight her word carries. Claire just started flopping around and frothing at the mouth, kind of like your mother that one time on St. Paddy’s’ day, but anyway—
Poor Claire just hasn’t been right since that thing at our old highschool, mmm-hmm. Dean humiliating her like that and all, I mean, couldn’t you just die? Where’s a woman her age going to find another man? And the scandal! Was anyone surprised when she started drinking again? Janine said it was something else, of course. Mmm-hmm. Said she went out to that old supply shed on the other side of the baseball diamond, came out shaking like someone just passed a death sentence on her head. Place is gone now, but Janine says she said there was something written on the wall in there, something that killed her in the end. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Like a cootie-curse, at her age! Alice was too polite to say it, but Claire had been going downhill all week and this was just the capper. Who cares if Dean jumped in front of that car, her social life was murdered right then and there (kind of like your mother on St. Paddy’s day, but anyway—)
Alice says there was someone living in that shed, mmm-hmm, some kinda bum who went around with their face all bandaged up. Whole neighborhood’s gone downhill since we were kids. Disgusting. They say the thing written on the wall wasn’t even english. Some whatsit—called it a wormword? So silly, have you ever heard of a word you can catch like a cold? But that’s what they said it was, written all nasty on the wall like that. And then right after that she finds Dean who jumps in front of the car like he’s chasing a leaf that looks like a $50 bill (again, like your mother.) Too neat if you ask me. I’ll bet their marriage has been on the rocks for ages and Dean just got tired of keeping up appearances—no I am not jealous! Can you imagine me next to that has-been in his little power tie? My Brett might have his ‘gentleman’s weekends” but he’s never humiliated me in public. And even if he did, you wouldn’t see me sneaking Shandies in a sunblock bottle. I mean, the scandal! Couldn’t you just die? ‘Head cheerleader marries quarterback, falls into the bottle.’ It’s worse than your mother with a snoutful, but anyway—
Claire had the sweats and shakes. Delirium tremens, just like my uncle Pete. He thought he had bugs crawling under his skin, used a chisel to try and get them out. Claire said her words burned her mouth, said it hurt her not to say the thing that made Dean jump in front of that car. Mmm-hmm, so terribly sad. When Sherryl started on menopause and kept screaming that the kids were leaving threatening chalk drawings on her sidewalk, that was the saddest old thing. But Claire was worse. The way she kept dribbling all over people just trying to help her, screaming that she was cursed. I know she said something nasty to Harold, that’s why he keeled over and had that stroke. Poor deluded Claire just thought it meant it was all real. It’s a scream, couldn’t you just die? She actually begged us to find the bum from the shed! Like we’d stomp through shantytown for her imaginary problems. I’m sure Janine felt very sorry for her, but if you ask me Claire just basked in the attention. First her husband dies, then she claims magic powers? Please. Next you’ll be telling me the scratch on that war monument isn’t from the night your mother went spinning down the main drag with a pickax she stole from the mining display, but anyway—
Shame about her. Mmm-hmm. Of course I’m sad, don’t I look sad? …damn botox. Anyway, it was a long time coming. She really started to lose her noodle towards the end. Said the wormword infected something, a phrase we use all the time. Called it her killing word. But when Alice asked her what it was, she wouldn’t answer. Clear schizocotic break, if you ask me.
Bitter? Of course I’m not. Claire lived her life however she lived. If she chose to end it as an embarrassment, that’s up to her.
…of course I don’t mind getting lunch. Again. Unlike Claire and all, we aren’t having money problems. Say, you two were close, weren’t you? Did she hint at anything? Some little hint that might let you know what she was talking about? No? All right, just dotting my i’s and j’s. She was clearly beyond help, but you never know…
Of course I didn’t visit her before the salon, when have I ever visited in the morning? And if I had, why would she tell me anything? Your imagination is running away with you. No, I’m wincing because of my sciatica, that’s always been a problem. I don’t have some wicked little wormwood burning a hole in my tongue. Imagine, me with magic powers. I mean, couldn’t you just die? Couldn’t you just die?
Couldn’t you just die?