Page 32 of Half Blind

“I think they might be what Jared is running from,” Lemon said. “More than likely, the Sheriff running Mr. Bane's info is what has brought them to Nowhere, Ohio and my door. Be cool.”

Through the camera system on the door, Lemon answered, “Can I help you?”

“We're looking for a friend of ours who said he was coming to Ohio,” the large lady said. “His truck was in an accident near here. We think he might have stopped in for some help?”

“How do you know the truck was in an accident?” Lemon asked.

The brutish woman at the door looked over her shoulder at another woman who had walked up. The third woman had reached the back door.

Lemon said with confidence, “Whomever you're looking for is not here. If your friend at the backdoor tries to come through, she is going to get lit the fuck up, that is, while she's coming through the back, I shall come through the front and light you up. Whomever you're looking for is not here.”

“Ma'am,” the woman said.

“Correction, Dr.,” Lemon said. “And to be more specific, my handle is the Sour Lemon. Standing next to me is the Cranberry. You are on the porch of a Forbidden Fruit. Whatever you're looking for, it's not here. The only thing you will find here is your death. Be off with you and in a hurry.”

The woman appeared shocked at Lemon's revelation. She held up her massive paws and said, “No disrespect intended. We are just trying to locate our friend.”

“Disrespect was taken,” Lemon said, pressing a button. Beside the ceiling fan on the front porch, a mini machine gun downloaded and one on the back porch as well. “Again, not here. Check with the Sheriff since he's the reason you've tracked your friend this far. However, here is a word to the wise. Adults who are the happiest learn to let shit go. Might be time for you to do the same.”

“Have a good night,” the large woman said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lemon replied.

She used the homing light tracker on the mini machine gun to point the red dot at the woman's back. The red dot stayed with her until the three women reached the pickup, loaded in, and drove away. “They will be back,” Lemon said.

“Don't they always come back? Dumb fuckers never know when well enough is sufficient,” Helen said. “Where is the weapons cache? Are the interlocking fields of fire set up at the windows? Do the girls know how to fire weapons? How long can we hold up in here?”

“Dear God, you bitter little berry, chill out,” Lemon said. “I'll walk you through all of that, but first, I need to make a call.”

“In the meantime, I need to check your ammo stores,” Helen said, watching the cameras outside of the home on screen.

“Yeah, do that,” Lemon said, reaching for her Technician phone and pressing 2.

The voice came on the line after three rings. “State your need.”

“Not sure. Three big ass women just showed up here looking for your new friend who left this morning,” Lemon said.

“Okay.”

“I threatened to drop them on my front porch when they used the sneak attack coming around the back in case, he tried to run out the back door,” Lemon stated. “What is he running from?”

“I assume them,” the voice said.

“You're being vaguer than usual.”

“No, I know nothing.”

“Well, someone better have some answers real damned soon. This Cranberry chick is locked and loaded and monitoring the cameras like we have a Waco about to go down,” Lemon said. “You sent the girl who has a history with him, so now I have three kids in my house. I don't need his problems on my doorstep. If the issue shows up again, I'm inviting that big heffah in for a cup of tea.”

“I'll be in touch,” the voice said, ending the call.

“I really can't stand that man,” Lemon said. “I fancied myself in love with him at one point, thinking we were going to run off together and have pretty bi-racial babies.”

Helen looked at her. “Can a bi-racial man and a Black woman have bi-racial children, or are they simply Black kids?”

Lemon squinted at her. “I don't think I like you much either. Stand down.”

“Can't,” Helen said. “They will be back, if nothing more than to sit on the property and look for Mr. Bane's comings or goings. Maybe you should tell the Sheriff that he's gone and you and your cousin, along with the girls, don't feel safe. That tight-lipped, no-neck cretin will come sit on the property personally.”

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