‘I’ve read about that. Why do you call it CABBAGES?’
‘What happens when he’s robbed at gunpoint at an ATM?’ Hammer went on.
Those are awful,’ Miss Sink said with a shudder. ‘I see they had another one yesterday. Of course, look how early it was. People have no business getting money out of machines at night when nobody’s around.”
Popeye lunged again. She got up on her hind legs, dancing about, front paws held out as if she wanted to hug Miss Sink. It made no sense.
‘What’s wrong with that dog?’ Miss Sink said. ‘It’s like she’s trying to tell me something.’
‘Popeye is very intelligent. She’s intuitive. Frankly, she knows so much it scares me,’ Hammer confessed.
‘And for the record,’ Miss Sink went on, ‘I think ATMs and the Internet are the 666 in Revelation. The beast leading up to Armageddon.’
Popeye jumped at Miss Sink again. Popeye growled. She hopped over to Miss Sink and tried to hug the old woman. Miss Sink smacked the newspaper against her hand as a warning. Popeye darted behind her owner’s legs, wrapping her leash around them. She was shaking.
‘It’s all right, little baby.’ Hammer was distressed and furious.
She squatted and put her arms around her dog and held her close. She gave Popeye another treat.
‘Please don’t do that again,’ she said sternly to Miss Sink.
‘Next time I’m going to smack her little bottom,’ Miss Sink promised.
‘Actually, you won’t,’ Hammer said in her dry don’t fuck with me tone of voice.
That dog’s going to bite someone,’ Miss Sink chastised Hammer. ‘You wait. And then won’t you be in Dutch? These days people sue just like that.’ She tried to snap her fingers and missed.
Popeye growled.
‘Well, I’ve got to go in and call all the other board members. I guess telling you is the same thing as calling the police,’ Miss Sink said.
She headed back down her walk, her feet loud on her Doric porch, her cat darting out from behind a hedge.
CHAPTER eighteen
Despite Bubba’s incredible efforts, no matter his eight.straight hours of relentless work in Bay 8, his productivity had fallen short by 3,901 cigarettes. He was devastated. It was the last night of the competition of the month, and the second month in a row that Bay 5 had claimed victory.
‘Don’t take it so hard,’ Smudge said.
‘I can’t help it,’ Bubba replied despondently.
They stopped outside the cafeteria and Bubba inserted his ID card into the cigarette machine, selecting the free pack all workers got daily. Bubba chose his usual Merit Ultima. Smudge did, too, and sold his pack to Bubba at the slightly discounted price of eight dollars and twenty-five cents. Smudge smoked Winstons, which were not made by Philip Morris. For the first time it bothered Bubba that Smudge didn’t offer his daily allotted pack to Bubba for nothing, since it cost Smudge nothing. It bothered Bubba that it just so happened that Smudge and Gig Dan played golf together.
‘I guess Gig had a long day,’ Bubba commented as he and Smudge headed out of the building.
‘He looked pretty tired when he left,’ Smudge agreed. ‘Too bad you were so late.’
‘Wouldn’t’ve been if that asshole Tiller wasn’t supposedly sick again.’
Smudge made no comment.
Funny how he always gets sick on the night the competition ends,’ Bubba made another casual remark.
‘Maybe losing is something he can’t face,’ Smudge suggested.
‘Also funny how nothing in my module works worth a shit the last night of the competition. Know how many times the tipping paper broke? Or how many glue bubbles I got? Had a dull knife, too. So I clean up right before shift change, and find dust in the machine and glue balled up on the glue roller,’ Bubba said.
Smudge stopped at his gleaming red Suburban. He got out his keys.
‘See, I think someone gets to Kennedy on first shift and sucks him into the conspiracy. So Kennedy works the first half of second shift because Tiller’s called in sick, because he’s been told to. Then Kennedy fucks up everything he can so when I’m supposed to come in and work one and a half shifts, I’ve got all this dust, glue balls and shit waiting for me.’