“I’m the look out.” I tag Helena’s arm, “and now you’re ‘It’. Stay put, and don’t let anyone past you. I’ve got to see what the fuck is taking so long.”
“But…” Helena begins to object, but thankfully like the well-trained spaniel she is not, she stays put anyway.
Sanctuary Storage Room – Bette
“Alice! What the fuck?”
“We’re coming Dana. Just hang in there.” Alice looks up at me desperately. “I can’t get the fucking thing open!” She cries hammering at the urn with the eagle top from a nearby flag.
“Give it to me for a second.” I say impatiently as she hands it over. I realize I could go down for a dozen embarrassing citations for this. Maybe never work again construed by Republican bigots, as a twisted lesbian tomb raider.
“We just need a little screwdriver. You can’t crack this open Alice.” I look around the room for a tool kit. I see choir robes and Knights of Columbus programs. Nothing.
Alice sinks to the floor and covers her face. “Maybe we should just make a run for it. Take the whole urn. My cup idea was stupid.”
“God no! Alice, we’ll figure this out. They’d suspect us first anyway.” I return Dana’s urn to Alice’s lap. “I have an idea. Did you see Helena’s earrings? They’d unscrew this blasted thing. Stay here. I’ll be back.”
“But she left with Tina.”
“No, she’s our new look out.”
“Okay, whatever you say.” Alice cradles the polished brass egg shape that holds Dana’s – and our future freedoms.
Back out into the fucking church again. “Helena!” She spins around at the sound of my voice. “I need your earring to open the urn, be a tiny little screwdriver.”
I watch her frown at me as she unhooks a solid silver triangle. Behind her I see two men appear, dressed in black suits with emblems from the mortuary. They are here no doubt for Dana’s ashes. I need time. I need time. Talking to them is not going keep our secret. One look, if they walk in here even fifteen feet, will end this whole ill conceived robbery. I fix a very fierce look at Helena. She blanches under my stare.