No offence Intended - Barbara Seranella by Barbara Seranella Page B

shit."
    Munch stuffed a load of whites into the machine,
sprinkled it with the detergent she had brought, and started the
cycle, turning the controls to HOT.
    "When is the funeral? I'd like to go."
    "I don't have money for a funeral. That shit
costs thousands."
    "So what happens now?"
    "They said the coroner had a release form for me
to sign and then he'd take care of it."
    "Are you going to sign it?"
    "What difference does it make? He's dead, right?
Buying some big expensive coffin ain't gonna bring him back."
    "Will they let you know where they bury him? I'd
like to put some flowers on his grave."
    "Cheaper to burn him."
    "Yeah, you're probably right about that."
Munch moved on to the sink and began washing the dishes stacked
there. She turned the water on hot—as hot as she could stand it—and
held her grease-stained cuticles under the rush. "I'd rather you
didn't say anything to the cops about me going over to his place,"
she said.
    "I don't tell the pigs nothing," Lisa said.
    "Do you know something?"
    "Like what?"
    Munch scraped at something hard and yellow stuck to
the inside of a coffee mug whose handle was broken off. "When
Sleaze stopped by my work, he told me that he was fixing to split."
    "He was always going somewhere."
    Munch handed her a dish towel and a wet plate. 'Yeah,
you got that right. How long was he in Oregon?"
    Lisa looked at her before answering. Munch detected a
note of hostility before Lisa said, "Long enough to piss some
people off."
    "I talked to Deb," Munch said. "She
said Sleaze was a snitch."
    Lisa flinched. "She told you that? What a cunt."
    Munch handed Lisa another plate. Lisa apparently
still held a grudge for the time Deb slept with Lisa's ol' man. Not
that either woman was still with the guy so who cared anymore?
Besides, shouldn't she be pissed at the guy?
    "I told her no way Sleaze wouldn't talk to the
cops."
    Lisa spun around and faced her "You know you're
really something. You don't come around forever, then you show up
talking long shit about who would do what." She threw down the
dish towel, discovered her beer was empty and opened another one.
"Don't fuck with what you don't understand?
    "What does that mean?"
    "It means some things are better just left
alone."
    Munch held up a baby bottle. "Where does this
go?"
    Lisa took it from her and jammed it into a cabinet
over the sink.
    Munch dried her hands on the dish towel. "
didn't come here to fight with you. I'm just trying to help."
    "Yeah? Well, who died and made you Glenda the
fucking good witch?"
    "Hey I'm hurting, too."
    Lisa concentrated for a moment on getting the cabinet
shut before all the assorted plastic containers and plates fell out,
leaving that calamity for the next person. "Fucking Deb really
thinks she's some kind of hot shit," she said, "her and
that little nigger kid of hers."
    'Watch it," Munch said, feeling her muscles
tense. There was talking trash and there was crossing the line. Lisa
treaded on dangerous ground when she put Boogie down.
    "Sorry" Lisa mumbled. She walked out to the
front room and grabbed a cigarette from the open pack on the coffee
table.
    Munch turned to the stovetop. Dirty pots and pans
were stacked two deep above the burners.
    "There was a guy with him on Friday" she
said as she poured rancid grease from a heavy cas-iron skillet into a
can she dug out of the trash. "Long black hair, had a jail
tattoo on his neck—one of those Aryan Brotherhood lightning bolts.
Any idea who he was?"
    "No," Lisa said.
    "You sure?" She lifted the lid on a
saucepan and saw that it was filled with hard cold rice.
    "What? You writing a book?" Lisa asked.
"Just drop it. It's over now."
    "What are you talking about?" Munch dumped
the rice in the trash and put the pot in the sink to soak. "How
can it be over? Doesn't it bother you that the killer is still out
there?"
    "And they'll always be out there," Lisa
said.
    "What's that supposed to mean?"
    "It means the world is full of assholes and all
we can do is all we