Maybe tomorrow night?”
“It's a date,” I nodded firmly. “Meanwhile, let's get Miss Congeniality out of our hair for good.”
*****
It took an hour to get Rita back home, and another hour-and-a-half to get Connie packed to go. The hardest part was her furniture, a bedroom suite and recliner along with an entertainment center, large flat-screen and surround sound stereo movie player combination. It all fit in the trailer with a little room to spare though. During the packing Rita continued to snipe at both of us but we ignored her, satisfied to be rid of her stupid ass.
At one point she threatened to tell everyone in town what we'd shared with her about the possible zombie problem. Both of us stopped at that, looking at her. She obviously hadn't expected that reaction and began to back-track. I held up a hand to stop her and moved to face her.
“If you were to do something like that,” I said evenly, “how do you think it will look when we explain the truth about why Connie moved out and left you here?” Rita frowned, but I went on. “You know, how you started seeing all kinds of crazy conspiracy things in the news, on the internet, and started losing your grip on reality. We tried an intervention, but it failed. Since you hadn't done anything illegal or threatened yourself or anyone else we couldn't really report you, but Connie had to think about her career so she did the only thing she could and moved. Since she can't afford to pay for this place and another one, she moved in with a friend, me, until the lease here was up and she could find a place of her own somewhere else.”
“Meanwhile, we were trying to see if we could get you some help involuntarily, since you wouldn't go on your own. I'd imagine once you start spreading that crap of yours, the involuntary part will come along pretty quickly, don't you?” I finished and stood back, waiting. And maybe smirking a little bit.
“I'm willing to bet your company wouldn't want it known that one of their reps was losing her grip on reality, either,” Connie added calmly, catching on nicely. Rita's face flushed.
“You can't threaten me!” she retorted.
“Why not?” I asked. “You threatened us just now. How's it feel, by the way?”
“But I would be telling the truth!” she shot back, and seemed to take strength from that.
“As far as you're able to tell truth from fiction these days,” I said with a sad tone of voice. Fake, of course. “We're really concerned about you, but can't find a way to help you. It's a shame, really. You're not a bad person, just. . .confused. That's all.” At that point I stopped play acting.
“You breathe a word against us Bubbly, and we'll bury you. You'll be lucky to stay out of the nut-house, let alone keep your cushy job. Got that?”
Red faced and trembling in anger Rita stormed away, walking outside. I followed to the door to make sure she didn't try and molest the van or trailer but she got into her car and screeched away.
“Let's get this done and away from here,” Connie said sadly into the silence. “She's lost it.”
Twenty hard minutes later Connie made a final walk though, making sure she had everything. That done, we left, her going to work and me back to the house to leave the trailer.
I left the van and trailer at home and took Big Baby to get the stuff we needed. We never did see Rita again after that. No idea what happened to her, to be honest. Maybe she made a relief center somewhere. If they were still working. The one person we'd tried to help, and that was the thanks we got. See what I mean? How can you help people when the world responds like that? I wish I could say she was an exception, but. . .she's not. If you present a problem to someone and it's out of their comfort zone, they'll like as not turn it around on you.
And that's probably why the world went to hell in a hand-bag, you know?
*****
I made it back home just in time, since the Fed-Ex guy rolled into the yard less