Stanley had to be close to three hundred pounds. He was a giant, immovable blob. I had no clue how I’d get him down and into my car. If I stun-gunned him he’d roll off the roof and crash to the ground. God knows what would happen when he hit. He could burst apart like a water balloon.
“Listen up, Humpty Dumpty,” Lula said. “It’s not like you’re an attractive sight up there. If you don’t come down I’m gonna take your picture and put it on YouTube. And then I’m gonna put the hose on you.”
“I’ve already been on YouTube,” he said. “I took a leak on YouTube.”
“That’s disgusting,” Lula said. “I’m glad I didn’t see that.”
“Does your mother know you’re out here with no clothes on?” I asked him. “I’m calling her.”
“That’s low,” he said. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you some weed if you don’t call her. I got really good stuff.”
“I’ll make you a better deal,” I said. “I won’t call her if you get some clothes on and come downtown with me.”
“I told you, my clothes are all getting washed.”
“How about we cut a hole in your bedspread and punch your head through it,” Lula said. “That should be about your size.”
“You should talk,” Stanley said. “You’re fat!”
Lula’s eyes bugged out. “What?”
“You’re fatter than I am.”
“I am not nearly as fat as you. I’m a big and beautiful woman, and I am not fat. There’s a difference between being big and being fat.”
“Well, you look fat to me.”
“That does it,” Lula said. “I’m coming up there, and I’m kicking your lard ass off that roof.”
A ladder was propped against one side of the garage, and Lula climbed it like she was on fire. She got onto the roof, and Stanley shrieked and tried to scramble away, lost his footing, and fell off the garage.
WHUMMMP!
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. He was spread-eagle on his back with a massive hydrangea bush squashed flat as a pancake under him.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Do I look okay?”
“That’s sort of a trick question.”
“I might have broken my back.”
“Try wiggling your toes.”
Lula came down the ladder. “Can he wiggle his toes?”
“Yep.”
“Too bad he can’t see them. You know what else he can’t see?”
“Focus,” I said to Lula. “We need to get him into the car.”
“You gonna put him in your car naked? I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s gonna have them little blue hydrangea flowers all stuck up his ass. You’ll get them all over your seat covers.”
“I might need an ambulance,” Stanley said.
“Hard to believe he could have broken something with all that padding he’s got,” Lula said.
“His face is kind of white,” I said to Lula. “Maybe he hit his head.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling faint,” Stanley said. “I’m not feeling good. I’m having a hard time breathing.”
I called 911 and asked for an EMT truck.
Lula looked down at him. “You should have told them to send one with a forklift.”
“He isn’t that big,” I said. “And he probably looks better with clothes on.”
“I’m cute with clothes on,” Stanley said. “I’ve been told I look cuddly.”
“I could see that,” Lula said, “now that you mention it. You do have that cuddly stuffed bear look to you.”
“Maybe we could get together when I get out of the hospital,” Stanley said.
I checked my watch. It was midmorning. This wasn’t the way I’d planned out my day. It was one thing to walk a simple skip through the process and collect my body receipt. It was a whole other deal to protect my property while it was left on a gurney in the emergency room. It could take hours. And then I had the further complication of either signing him into the lockdown ward at the hospital or shuttling him over to the police station. I’d be going through menopause by the time this was finalized.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to stay with him at the hospital,” I said to Lula.
“No way. Hospitals creep me out.”
The EMT truck backed up the driveway. The two guys got out and grimaced when they saw Stanley.
“He’s naked,” the one guy said. “How’d he get out here naked? Is he nuts?”
“Sort of,” I said. “He was sitting up on the roof, and he fell onto the hydrangea bush.”
“Can he wiggle his toes?”
“Yeah.”
“Can he wiggle anything else?”
“Are you gonna load him up or what?” Lula said. “On account of we haven’t got all day to be standing here.”
Ten minutes later, Stanley was in the truck.
“Are you going with him?” the EMT asked me.
“No,” I said. “I’ll call his mother and let her know.”
“Not my mother,” Stanley yelled from the truck.
I looked at Lula.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with him, but you owe me. I want one of them five-gallon jugs of rice pudding when I come out of that hospital.”
I gave her my paperwork and told her to call if there was a problem. The EMT truck pulled away with Stanley and Lula, I got into the Buick, and my phone rang.
“There’s sort of a problem with your apartment,” Briggs said. “I’ve got it mostly straightened out, but you might want to come see for yourself.”
“Is it the toilet?”
“No.”
“The television?”
“You have insurance, right?” Briggs asked.