CLEO

When Uncle Charles came up North during summer, he warned Aunt Rene not to drive the car while he was away.  A few months earlier she had taken my Mom on one of her shopping joyrides and had torn someone's fender off while she was attempting to "park".

My very responsible mother was proud of Aunt Rene when she asked her to look for paper and pencil to leave her information on the victim's windshield.  Just as my mom was about to hand it to her from her purse, Aunt Rene decided to flee the scene and floored it out of the parking lot.  She told my mother to just shut up...and they made a beeline for Hallandale.

Aunt Rene quickly drove under the carport and just as quickly disappeared into the house...and returned with a tarp that she positioned over her own damaged bumper.  My mother was horrified and Aunt Rene was triumphant.

  No sooner were they in the house than the phone rang....my mom answered...and the caller identified himself as the chief of police.  My mom recounts covering the receiver with her hand and telling Aunt Rene who was calling.  What followed was a quivering Aunt Rene telling my mother to "tell him I'm not here".  Next came the message from the chief that they were collecting money for some charity, and Aunt Rene instructed my mom to " give them whatever they want....how much does he want?" Squawk Squawk.  AHH TEE !  Life was tense for hours until Uncle Charles came in and asked what was going on with the car. Aunt Rene simply replied " Cleo".  When he asked her what the hell she was talking about she said that the hurricane..."Cleo" had caused the damage. Asked for the details, she explained that the hurricane had swept in...picked up the car...banged it into a tree...and brought it back into the carport.  Simple enough.  Uncle Charles just stared at her...shook his head, and took the keys.