A Mirror for the Stars

by John Ploskina

  7

  "...serious!" Karen scolded.

  "I know," I said.

  FUCK YES! FUUUUCK YEEEEEESSSS!

  That's what was going through my head, over and over again. Recall that for the last three years, I'd been obsessing over Karen. Getting bored and thinking about shit we did together and getting all moony over it. Or having some random thing remind me of something funny she said and getting all choked up. Sitting up at night, wondering if she was laying next to someone else. It was fucking bullshit, and the worst part of it was, as far as I knew, I was the furthest fucking thing from her mind.

  But now, here was proof that it wasn't the clean break it seemed to be. She still remembered me and even missed me. It was a tiny glimmer of hope. Anyway, it was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

  I don't know. I don't do well with all this emotional stuff. Maybe you've noticed.

  "I fucked everything up," Karen said. She took off her glasses and polished the lenses with her blouse. Her face looks weird without glasses. “One of their monsters broke into my apartment a few hours after you called. I had to shoot my way out. I haven’t heard from Steve. I hope he’s ok.”

  “Who’s Steve?” I asked nonchalantly.

  “Just a guy I worked with, who might be dead for all I know,” Karen frowned and put her glasses back on.

  The waitress dropped a little leather booklet with the check inside in front of me. I thought that was presumptuous of her. Isn’t this the age of Women’s Liberation? I pulled out my wallet and dug out my debit card.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Karen demanded.

  “Paying for dinner. Are you looking to challenge the Phallic Power Structure and split the bill?” I asked.

  “No, idiot, you can’t use your debit card. Freezing your accounts was probably the first thing they did. Now they’ll be tracking us. If you scan that thing, this place will be swarming with government agents before we pull out of the parking lot.”

  “Oh yeah. Charlotte mentioned that. She said I was on some kind of terrorist watch list, or something.” I stuffed my debit card back in my wallet. There were two wrinkly old dollars in the billfold. I’d doodled a ‘70s cop mustache on George Washington on one of them. I get bored sometimes. “We might be doing dishes.”

  “The Phallic Power Structure has gone flaccid on me, eh?”

  “Ha.” Damn it. You have to admit she’s good.

  “Luckily, I was prepared for this kind of thing.”

  Karen reached into her boot and pulled out a thick wad of cash. She flipped through it, and slapped a couple twenties on the table. I figured, fuck it, and tossed my two beat up dollars down to add to the waitress’s tip. Karen glanced at George’s mustache and raised an eyebrow at me.

  “That’s historically accurate,” I said. “He grew it during the war to keep his face warm. I mean, the bastard didn’t even have shoes.” I pushed the door open and was grateful for the burst of cool night air on my face. I was starting to get drowsy and I was still wicked sore from the crash and the fight with Charlotte.

  “Oh God. What am I going to do with you?” Karen sighed.

  “My Mom used to say the same thing,” I said.

  “I don’t doubt it, but I mean, literally, what am I going to do with you?” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to drag you into all this. I basically ruined your life. You can’t even fly home.”

  “I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. I was stuck on ‘survive duel to the death with super powered homicidal maniac’ and then ‘enjoy dinner with Karen.’”

  “I guess I’ll have to take you with me.”

  “Don’t say it like that,” I said, and crossed my arms.

  “Like what?”

  I dropped into an exaggerated impression of her voice and moaned “Oh no, I have to take that jack ass with me.” I dropped the act. “Look, what’s done is done. I’m here, and that’s all there is. While I may be a halted adolescent, and a smart ass, you have to admit I did some great stuff for you. Remember that time I convinced that foul smelling big shot Internet Hippy to put the story about your Wear Green to Save the Redwood campaign on the front page of his blog?”

  “You threatened him.”

  “Threaten. Convince. Po-tay-to, Po-tah-to. What about the time I pushed your Vespa two and a half miles in the pouring rain, so it wouldn’t sit out overnight in Wilkinsburg?” I elbowed her.

  “You do have ways of making yourself useful. I’ll give you that,” Karen said, and smiled.

  “So, what’s next?”

  Karen breathed in sharply and opened the storage compartment under the seat of her Vespa. A hunter green messenger bag had been unceremoniously crammed down in there. “I want to make sure the research we did isn’t used in the field. I want to destroy the REMIM.” She frowned down at the bag for a moment and sighed as she yanked the zipper open.

  I peeked inside at a haphazard pile of what looked like bricks of brown clay, except for the stern warnings written on the sides in a military stenciled font.

  “Um… is that…”

  Karen leaned over and whispered. “It’s C4 plastic explosive.”

  Some of my enthusiasm waned when she mentioned the explosives.

  “You’re not thinking of going all Timothy McVeigh on me, are you?”

  “No, not like that.” She shook her head. “I just want to blow up the research lab. Everyone goes home at five unless we’re running an experiment. The place will be mostly empty.”

  “Mostly empty?”

  “Yeah, only mostly.” Karen swallowed. “The monster calling itself ‘Charlotte’ will be there. I’m sure of it.”

  “Fuck that bitch,” I said jovially. “Hit her with some more of that anticoagulant and she’s toast.”

  “That was the only dose I had. If we face her again, we have to beat her on her terms.”

  “Oh.”

  “Maybe you could just distract her? While I set the charges?”

  “That sounds… tricky.”

  Karen sighed and rubbed her temples. “You don’t have to help me. This is my problem and now I’ve got you all tangled up in it.”

  “No, I’m in.” I said. “I want to help you. We’ll find a way to beat Charlotte if we have to.”

  Karen looked at me, and she had that look. You know? Every chick has one. That gleam in her eyes, like her whole world revolves around you, and the sun only shines because of the radiance of your soul. When Karen looked at me that way, it made my knees weak and made me feel like my entire disastrous life had some kind of deeper purpose and meaning. God, it was fucking awesome to see that look on her face again.

  In spite of everything, I doubt any man ever felt as much triumph climbing onto the back of a Vespa as I did right then.