Free Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 03 - An Apple a Day Keeps Murder Away by Janet McNulty Page A

only logical to her.
    She had drawn everything on a piece a paper. When she handed it to me, I took one quick glance, crumpled it up and tossed it in the back seat. The entire piece of paper was nothing more than a jumble of lines and words in her horribly small handwriting.
    “Stop light,” I yelled. I tightened the seat belt in what could very well be my coffin.
    “Oh, those don’t mean anything,” sung Aunt Ethel, “Their mostly optional.”
    Optional? Someone help me, please. I prayed to whatever god in the universe felt sympathetic to my plight.
    The car weaved in and out of lanes as my aunt twisted and turned the wheel like one would at the arcade. Suddenly, she jerked the wheel causing the car to do a high speed U-turn. I could imagine what my face looked like as I cringed expecting to hit something at any moment.
    We shot down the street before she slammed on the brak es. My aunt did a sharp, right turn onto an alley full of garbage cans. She might have even squashed a few.
    “Do you even know where you’re going?”
    “Oh don’t worry, dear, I have it all worked out.”
    Aunt Ethel hummed merrily t o herself as she squealed the tires, doing another right on the main road. She gunned the engine, blowing black smoke out the exhaust. Next thing I knew, we barreled our way through traffic.
    “Stop. Stop! STOP!”
    Aunt Ethel hit the brakes bringing the car to a halt just before she ran another red light. “Why were you yelling, dear?”
    “Red light.” I pointed at the traffic light ahead of us.
    “Hey, lady,” yelled the guy driving the car next to us, “Where the hell did you get your license?”
    “Oh, my license was revoked years ago,” replied my aunt with an innocent smile. “You don’t really need one. Driving isn’t that difficult. Just point the car and go.”
    The man’s face went white. He hit the accelerator and sped off despite the fact that the light remained red.
    I stared at her. “Are you serious?”
    “Why wouldn’t I be?” The light changed green. Instantly, I felt myself squeezed into the back of my seat as Aunt Ethel hit the gas and zoomed off.
    I prayed for a cop to pull us over. No such luck. Why is it when you really want there to be a cop, there isn’t one?
    “Oh, poo h. A traffic jam,” said my Aunt. She jerked the wheel again pulling the car onto the sidewalk.
    “Driving on the sidewalk is illegal,” I screamed. “There are people there!”
    “Don’t worry, dear. They’ll move out of the way.”
    More like jump out of the way. People leapt to the left and right in an effort to avoid being hit. Deafening scrapes pierced my ears as the car plowed over chairs and tables. My stomach lurched when she pulled back onto the road.
    “The speed limit is thirty-five,” I said.
    “That’s just a guideline,” said Aunt Ethel.
    I started making my amends to the Almighty. Though not religious, Aunt Ethel’s driving would drive anyone to church.
    “Do any of these places look familiar?” asked my aunt.
    “No.”
    “You need to get out into the sun more, dear,” said Aunt Ethel with concern, “You ’re so pale.”
    And I wonder why.
    Tires squealed as she blew through another red light and made a left turn causing three other cars to come to a screeching halt. Once more we roared down the road at fifty with the wind howling in our ears through the open windows.
    “This is so much fun,” sang my aunt.
    Fun is not how I’d describe it. I recognized one of Tiny’s favorite hangout spots as we careened down the street.
    “Oh, look! Taco Bell is having a special,” said Aunt Ethel.
    She whipped the wheel to the left ramming her way into a parking lot. Then, with another jerk of the wheel, my aunt steered the car through the parking lot and out the exit onto the side road between us and the Taco Bell. My stomach lurched as the car flew over the grassy median and into the restaurant’s lot. She swerved, hit the brakes, and pulled neatly into the drive