We knew she was in the neighborhood and she was always damned obvious in her monks' hood and robes. . . and usually I didn't engage her in conversation. She once said she wanted to look around. She was an ex-con and not permitted in the shop. We had rifles and shotguns in easy reach. No way was i going to allow her anywhere in the store. I don't believe she got more than two steps in the door at any time before I told her to turn around and leave.
I got a few "F**k you!"s on her way out the door. . . and once "Helter Skelter!" with a grin and a wave as she turned and left. It's kind of blurred with dim memory over 40 years. . .
And at that time “Helter Skelter” wasn’t the infamous phrase it later was to be known as.
Yup, something wicked your way went.