Winter in May

~9~ The Raisins of Wrath

"And woe betide the creature who steps into the Devil's garden." ~ Irish Proverbs

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I watch the Irish Antichrist stomp out of the principal's office, where she slows her roll over to the Sleestak Queen for a little after action report. Irish gives the Sleestak Queen one of those creepy old fashioned air hugs. Then they hold each other at arm's length and start whispering something sinister, that makes them both skin smiles like serial killers.

Probably a promise to make plans to follow the Grateful Dead around next summer? You know, if they are both still alive and kicking? After all, evil never dies it just gets meaner over time. I only pick up the last of the thread as they wander over towards us, arm in arm in some strange march of sisterly solidarity.

"You could have just told Rupi what was what in private Irish." Mrs. St. Claire smiles sadly. "You didn't need to turn this into a war."

"What, and ruin my morning fun? Oh, I think not." Irish barks out what I think passes for a laugh. "Besides when have you ever known me to fight nice with racist sheethead scum, Patrice?"

"And what of Rupert?" Mrs. St. Claire nods back over her shoulder towards the closed office.

"Rupi's not stupid, he knows it's not personal on him. He already knew damn well where this was headed the moment he realized who was gonna be on the other side from me." Irish sniffs arrogantly. "Oh and Pat, you might just want to give that copy you made of May Belle's detention to Rupi now? Time to wipe the smile off of little sheet heads face."

"O' Irish, you old rabble-rouser, you'll never change a whit." Which I can only assume "Rabble-rouser" is ancient Raisin dialect for seriously super psycho.

"Yes well, let's just hope Rupi doesn't have to do this dance again with Aces." Irish nods at me and May. "The boy can take care of himself just fine it seems. But for some strange reason, he has a soft spot for the Grimm girl."

"Well, she is ..." Mrs. St. Claire sighs the obvious.

"No, I get the feeling it's something more than the obvious." Irish frowns down over the barricade at me, with May leaning into my shoulder. "We'll talk more when I get the kids home and I can get to the bottom of this nonsense."

"Irish, I hate to bring this up now." The Sleestak Queen sighs deeply. "But you can't take May Belle off school grounds again without her parent's permission."

"Oh? Yes, I suppose that makes sense on some level." Irish nods appreciatively. "You think Nancy in the Nurse's Office will have the Grimm parent's contact numbers?"

"On speed dial would be my best bet." Mrs. St. Claire rolls her reptilian eyes over.

"Well then, off we go to make that call." Irish pushes off to parts unknown. "Good to see you, Pat. Please give my best to Edgar and the kids. I'll see ya next Saturdays at Monthly Mahjong, if not sooner."

"Same to you and yours, Irish." Mrs. St. Claire chimes back sweetly. "And do try to have a nice day."

"Already going much better for me so far. Haven't had this much fun since forever." Irish stalks through low swinging saloon doors.

"So..." what the hell did you just do, Satan?  I glare back at the ancient Irish battleax.

"We're done here for now kids. The boys are gonna work out what happens next among themselves for a while. Then give us a call later and let me know of my victory." Irish shrugs off the irrelevance of what other people are thinking about her infernal glory.