BLOOMFIELD HILLS, MICHIGAN
Chapter 34
MOTHER RUBEN
Rita Ruben sat at the kitchen table with her granddaughters.
“Grandma, your hair is pretty, like straw,” Ruth said. “I like Twinkies for breakfast.”
“Straw. My God, this cost me eighty bucks,” Rita exclaimed as she patted her bleached hair, which was an alarmingly bright shade of blond.
It was enough to make Miss Clairol cry. Her eyebrows were drawn on with a brown pencil, completing the look. She wore a bright red Japanese housecoat and red satin slippers decorated with feathers like a peacock’s fan. She was a fashion disaster.
“Twinkies? You should be so lucky to see one of those sponge torpedoes in this house, young lady!”
Hanna and Ruth sat eating their Mishka in silence, wishing it was filled with rich, tasty cream filling.
“Your mother has left us,” Rita whined. “She’s left her job. You’re going to be destitute. I’m feeling very verklempt.”
“Grandma, relax. Mom knows what she’s doing,” Hanna advised.
“What you don’t know about life, little one.” Rita struck a pained pose. “I have a pain in my heart. Call your grandfather.”
“Grandpa is at a prayer vigil,” Ruth reminded her.
“Oh, my God, remind me of this at the table.” Rita snapped herself out of it and grabbed the telephone.
“Ramona, it’s Rita. I can’t do lunch today; I’m having a heart attack.” Rita hurried into the living room, clutching the cordless phone to her ear.
Hannaa and Ruth exchange glances and roll their eyes.
“Can you take any more of this?” Hanna whispered.
Ruth shook her head, NO.
“Let’s go find Mom. We could take the bus—I have money.” Hanna concealed their mutinous conversation behind a wall of napkins.
Ruth appeared worried.
“It’s okay,” Hanna said, slipping another bite of Mishka into her mouth. “Mom won’t even be mad. She misses us, too.”
Rita Ruben returned to the kitchen.
“Girls, I’m going to the doctor. If I don’t get home by dinner, tell your grandpa I died of a heart attack. Grandma Ruben headed for the bedroom. What should I wear?”
“If she’s going to drop dead of a heart attack, who cares what she’s wearing?” Ruth asked her older sister.
“Haven’t you noticed? She dies at least four times a day.”
“What if we get lost, Hanna? We don’t even know where Cedar Creek is, do we?”
“We’ll ask someone for help, silly goose.” Hanna picked up her dishes and took them to the sink.
“If we get lost, I’m going to tell.” Ruth poked the rest of her Mishka into a napkin and wadded it up because it wasn’t a Twinkie.
“You won’t have anybody to tell.” Hannah quickly pulled her long hair into a ponytail. “Because you will be L.O.S.T.!”
Ruth whimpered.
“Girls, enough already of your jabbering.” Rita Ruben had returned and now wore a lavender ensemble with rhinestones studding the front of the shirt in swirls of twinkles. She’d exchanged her feathered footwear for gold flats and carried her one and only fur casually over one arm.
“Grandma, don’t take that animal skin with you, it’s going to be ninety degrees today!” Hannah giggled.
“Enough already—if I’m going to die, I’ll do it fashionably.”
Rita left her Bloomfield Hills condo knowing her grandkids were safe with plenty of chores until she came back. After all, she had at least ten heart attacks a day and hadn’t collapsed yet.
Subscribe to receive email updates as new chapters drop. No Tour Guides in Hell will be available to read for free until March 31, 2026.
Monty & McCluskey 