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the Marina and the Presidio. There was much less traffic
around here, and I heard the popping of gunshots again.
Shit! I was fresh out of ideas. I hazarded another glance in
the rearview mirror and saw the black SUV only half a
block behind us.
Look out! Mary yelled, and I swerved to avoid a
SHOOTING GALLERY 317
brightly colored Kreamy Do-Nut delivery van, complete
with a giant smiling Kreamy Do-Nut on its roof, pulling
out at a stop sign. The SUV was not as quick and smashed
into the van with a squealing of brakes, the smashing of
glass, and the groaning of steel.
Yes! Mary said. They crashed!
We cheered and hooted. I should have been driving, not
celebrating, because the truck ran over a curb, taking out a
big blue mailbox. The statue slammed into the truck s cab
as we screeched to a halt.
Luckily I had slowed before the impact and after a mo-
ment of shock, I backed onto the road and looked behind
us. Our pursuers leaped from their disabled vehicle and
yanked the stunned driver out of his delivery van. Ape Man
jumped behind the wheel, with Jose and Barrel Chest rid-
ing shotgun.
They re coming after us! Mary cried. They ve hi-
jacked the doughnut mobile and they re coming after us!
I stomped on the gas, taken aback at being pursued by a
giant doughnut. Sure, I thought, the bad guys got a van full
of Kreamy Do-Nuts while I was stuck with a penitent
Catholic, a speechless giant, and a petty criminal who
didn t even know where the nearest police station was.
The van sped along faster than I would have thought a
doughnut mobile could go. I raced through the flat residen-
tial streets of the Marina, leaning on the horn in the hope
that some public-spirited citizen would call the cops. I de-
cided Mary was onto something with the Lombard sugges-
tion and was willing to bet my trusty old truck could climb
hills better than the doughnut mobile.
I headed straight up Divisadero, a very steep hill. At the
summit was an intersection controlled by a stop sign, but I
didn t hesitate. The hilltop flattened out and we sailed up
in the air, across the intersection, and slammed to earth on
318 Hailey Lind
the other side, jolting the truck and its contents. The statue
rocketed around the bed of the truck, banging into the tail-
gate as we headed uphill, jumping toward the cab when we
went airborne. I heard a horrible groaning noise and
scanned the dashboard for a red Check Engine Because
You re About to Die light until I realized the noise was
coming from Mary.
What s wrong? I demanded. Mary, what s wrong?
Eye it eye ung, she mumbled.
What?
She say she bit her tongue, Consuelo replied, momen-
tarily interrupting a volley of Ave Marias.
Are you okay? I asked anxiously.
Uh-huh, she nodded, craning her neck to see out the
back window. Ere opping o-uhts.
What?
She say, they are dropping doughnuts. Consuelo ap-
peared to have found her calling as a translator for the lin-
gually impaired.
I was too busy gripping the wheel to look for myself.
Consuelo pulled a tissue from her pocket, which Mary
pressed tightly against her tongue. After a moment, speech
restored, Mary resumed her blow-by-blow description of
the drama unfolding behind us.
The back doors of the van are swinging open! They re
dropping Kreamy Do-Nuts everywhere! It s a fried-dough
massacre!
I concentrated on avoiding driving into the knots of peo-
ple gathering on the sidewalk to watch the chase. Surely
someone would have the presence of mind to call the cops,
I thought. At the moment, though, they seemed mesmer-
ized by the carnage created as the Kreamy Do-Nut van
sped along, spewing its cargo.
Glazed doughnuts are rolling down the street! A whole
SHOOTING GALLERY 319
bunch of jelly-filled hit the pavement! An Alfa Romeo is
skidding in the jelly! Ew! It looks like blood!
For every steep upside to a hill there is an equally steep
downside, and since we had just crested the hill there was
only one way for us to go. To buy time until the cops ar-
rived, I took a left off Divisadero, doubled back onto Scott,
and swung right on Green. The street nosedived towards
the Bay, and I was hoping the doughnut mobile would lose
control on the steep downgrade.
They re gaining on us! Mary cried.
I heard another round of popping, and the doughnut van
banged into us from behind. My heavy steel bumper ab-
sorbed much of the blow, but I feared we were about to join
the jelly-filled Kreamy Do-Nuts in the Roadkill Hall of
Fame. I laid on my horn to warn anyone entering the inter-
section at the bottom of the hill that we were barreling to-
wards them. At last I heard sirens approaching, but before
I could feel relieved the doughnut mobile rammed us
again, this time with more force, and we careened onto the
curb, bounced off a light pole, and landed back on the road.
I was fighting to control the truck when the larger, heavier
doughnut mobile, unable to slow its momentum, streaked
past us and skidded into the intersection, where it T-boned
a police cruiser. There were terrible sounds of metal
crunching, glass shattering, and tires exploding before both
the doughnut mobile and the cruiser came to a rest in the
middle of the intersection.
We cheered again, savoring our rescue, until I realized I
couldn t stop the truck in time, and we slammed into the
back of the doughnut mobile, the nose of my truck coming
to rest just inside the open rear doors of the van. Dough-
nuts rained down upon the windshield and a chocolate cake
doughnut with rainbow sprinkles lassoed the radio anten-
nae. The statue in the bed of the truck launched into the air
320 Hailey Lind
and smashed onto the asphalt. In one last act of defiance,
the giant Kreamy Do-Nut emblem creaked, trembled, and
rolled off the roof of the van, impaling itself in the police
cruiser s windshield.
There were several long seconds of eerie, unnatural
calm.
Then Consuelo started wailing, police sirens shrieked,
and car alarms screamed. A crowd gathered on the side-
walk, speculating noisily. There were assorted shouts,
more popping sounds, and general bedlam as the watching
crowd shifted and surged around us.
I tried to climb out the driver s door, but it was jammed
against the delivery van and wouldn t budge.
Is everyone okay? Evangeline, try to get out your side,
I said. She wrenched her door open and practically flung
Consuelo to the sidewalk, then tumbled out. Mary bounced
across the bench seat and climbed out, and I followed more
slowly. As I emerged, the Kreamy Do-Nuts that had fallen
onto the truck s roof shifted, and I felt the cool goopiness of
vanilla custard land with a splat on my head.
My companions looked at me and started laughing,
even Consuelo. I joined in, and then none of us could stop.
Failing to see the humor in the situation, the cops sur-
rounded us, weapons drawn. Mary and Evangeline tried to
explain, adding to the confusion. I sat on the truck s
bumper, giggling in my custard-encrusted hooker clothes.
An officer was inspecting the statue, which lay in pieces
on the pavement. He nudged it with his foot and plastic
baggies of white powder spilled out.
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