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I closed my eyes. “Where’s a hot poker to stick in my ears when I need it?”
“Oh, don’t be so uptight. What the heck are you doing here, anyway?”
“You called and told me you got arrested.”
Gram shrugged. “So? I asked you to see if you could get someone to bring bail to the clerk, not hop on a plane.”
“I’m concerned about you.”
“Well, that’s a waste of energy. You don’t need to be.”
I held my hands out, motioning to the room full of police officers. “Look where we are, at the police precinct in a foreign country.”
“It’s the Bahamas, not North Korea,” Gram protested.
I turned to Nora. “Can you help me out here, please?”
“How? She’s right. It’s not North Korea.”
“I should’ve gotten drunk on the plane,” I mumbled.
Outside, I directed Bonnie and Clyde to my rental car, where my grandmother got in the front seat and Nora slid into the back.
Gram clicked her seatbelt. “We need to make a stop on the way to the hotel.”
“Where?” I asked.
“At the clerk’s office. The place you posted the bail.”
“I already posted your bail.”
“This is for Frieda.”
Nora leaned up from the backseat. “And Mad Dog. I’d like to spring her, too. Oh, and do you think we could also stop for some dog food?”
I squinted. “What the hell are the two of you talking about?”
“Language!” they answered in unison.
I scrubbed my hands up and down my face. “I feel like I’m in a Three Stooges skit and we’re all having different conversations. Who is Frieda, and why do we need to pay her bail?”
“And Mad Dog,” Nora once again chimed in.
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “We can’t forget Mad Dog.”
It was only six thirty in the morning, yet it had to be at least eighty-five degrees out. I needed to turn the car on to run the air conditioning. I’d traveled half the night and was running on no sleep, so I started the engine and decided it would be faster to just do as they said.
When we arrived at the clerk’s office, Moe and Larry got out of the car and marched inside. I followed to make sure they didn’t get themselves into any more trouble. If I hadn’t been so exhausted and pissed off, the sight of them together would’ve been comical. Nora was wearing pants that looked like they would’ve been too big for me, tied up in the front, and an oversized polo with the name of a hotel embroidered on it. And my almost-eighty-year-old grandmother was sporting an orange inmate jumpsuit. Neither seemed to notice or care.
“Hi,” Nora said to the clerk. “We’d like to post bail for our two friends.”
The man behind the desk looked them over. “Okay… What are the names?”
“Frieda,” my grandmother said emphatically.
“And Mad Dog,” Nora yet again chimed in.
The guy looked to me. I shrugged. “Not a clue.”
