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“Yeah, but we aren’t Ranger. And what about the first time we went in to get Blatzo, and you were yelling ‘Shoot him, shoot him’?”
“Exactly, and it turned out we didn’t need to shoot him. You didn’t need a gun.”
“That’s ’cause I had a dildo. Are you saying I should always carry a dildo?”
“The truth is, you’re the worst shot on the planet. The chances of you hitting your target are close to zero.”
“Boy, that’s hurtful. As it happens I have an eyesight problem.”
“I didn’t know that. What’s wrong with your vision?”
“I can’t see real good.”
“What about glasses?”
“I got them but they ruin my appearance.”
“Are you supposed to wear them when you drive?”
“Only if I want to see things like signs. I can see big things like cars.”
r /> “Good grief. Put your glasses on.”
Lula searched through her purse, found her glasses, and put them on. They were shocking pink and oversized with rhinestones embedded in the frame. She looked like a black Elton John.
“Wow,” I said.
“Is that a good wow or a bad wow?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s a shocked wow. Where did you get them?”
“At the mall. They have one of them big eyeglass places there. These are some kind of designer glasses.”
“Can you see better when you wear them?”
“Yeah, except for the reflection I get from the rhinestones sometimes.”
“Maybe you should get a more subtle pair of glasses. Something with less bling.”
“What’s the point to that?”
“How about contact lenses?”
“I tried them but I couldn’t get them in. You gotta stick your finger in your eye. You ever try that? It don’t work. I don’t know how some people can do it.”
Mental note. Help Lula with vision problem.
“We’re supposed to meet Gobbles in the Windward Dorm parking lot,” I said. “Windward Dorm is on the same street as Zeta, but it’s a couple buildings away. Leave your glasses on so you can read signs.”
Windward was easy to find. Lula could have read the sign without her glasses. It might be glorious inside, but no one had wasted time or money designing the exterior. It was a large two-story chunk of brick and mortar. Windows all in a line. A couple doors. That was it. The lot behind it was small and badly lit. Perfect for a rendezvous with a felon.
I parked at the edge of the lot and killed my lights. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I picked out two people standing in the deep shadow thrown by a panel van.
“I think that’s Gobbles and Julie by the van,” I said to Lula. “Stay here and call for help if it looks like I’m in trouble.”
“Gotcha.”
I approached them slowly. I didn’t want them to panic and run. They were holding hands, probably more scared than I was.
