Animate Me

by Ruth Clampett

  I rise with hesitancy. I want the last word, but I know I can’t have it. He has control right now over the two greatest passions in my life, Brooke and my work. He can easily crush me. So as I stagger out of his lush office and back down to my crappy cubicle I vow that somehow, someway I will change things so Arnold no longer holds in his grubby hands all that I consider most precious. I have to figure out how to protect the two parts of my life I know without a doubt that I can’t live without.

  Thirty minutes later I’m still flip-flopping my cell phone back and forth across my desk as I draw. I still have five drawings to do before I leave and my focus is completely shot. Maybe I need to call Brooke and tell her what Arnold said. Maybe I shouldn’t. I would rather do it in person, but she’s seeing Arnold tonight…there is no time. Maybe, maybe…I agonize until I can’t take another moment, and I pick up the phone and tap on her name.

  “Ha, you caught me! I’m watching more animation!” She laughs.

  I smile, despite my inner agony. God, I love that girl.

  “What are you watching?” I ask.

  “Despicable Me. Have you seen it? It’s really good.”

  “No, but I’ve been meaning to. You’ll have to loan it to me. What’s it about?”

  “It’s about a really bad guy, who becomes good and does the right thing.”

  I think of Arnold. If only life were more like cartoons: we could drop anvils on people’s heads, wear roller skates with rockets, and really bad guys, like Arnold, could magically become good.

  “If only…” I moan.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  My fingers grip around the phone. “Arnold called me into his office.”

  “Why? What did he want?”

  My mind races…how do I explain how testosterone fires up a Neanderthal when another caveman wants his woman?

  I decide to underplay it so she doesn’t worry, but at least knows he talked to me. I don’t want her surprised in case he brings it up at their fucking dinner.

  “I think he just wanted to know how things went at the Emmys.”

  “Really?” she asks, sounding suspicious.

  “I don’t think he cares for me much. He didn’t seem to like my haircut either.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t,” she scoffs. “He doesn’t tend to like guys that are better looking than him.”

  How does she do this to me? I’m unsettled, and she still makes my spirits soar. She thinks I’m better looking than Arnold, who I know is considered very handsome.

  She falls quiet again.

  “What Brooke?”

  “It’s just weird, why didn’t he wait to ask me? We’re having dinner tonight. I’m curious if he’ll mention talking to you.”

  “Are you going to tell him about last night?” Please say no, please say no. I know if she does it’s all over.

  “Well, we normally tell each other everything…no details, just the general idea. But I need to see what he’s up to first. I’m not sure what I’ll do.”

  This time I get quiet.

  “Nathan?”

  I don’t answer, the fear choking me, taking my breath and words away.

  “Nathan,” she says softly. “I know this looks bad to you, but I’m not going to let Arnauld tell me what to do. If he doesn’t like it, that’s his problem.”

  “But you warned me. You told me it’s complicated.”

  “Yes, I did. But if it were so easy, how worthwhile would that be? I thought about you a lot today. Do you believe in me?”

  “So much, Brooke…so much.”

  “Good… then I want a Buzz Lightyear drawing on my cup tomorrow. Okay?”

  I smile while my heart thunders, and I imagine she can hear that too. “Okay.”

  But when we say our goodbyes and I hang up, I curl over my desk as my fear flares, a burning torch on a dark desolate street. Only hours ago I finally held all my dreams in my arms…I just can’t lose her now.

  Animate Me / Chapter Sixteen / Santa, the Easter Bunny and Brooke

  “Aw, the poor puddy tat! He fall down and go… BOOM!” ~Tweety Birdxv

  The thing is…she said she would call me tonight. Not tomorrow, not the night after, not sometime…but tonight. So when she doesn’t, I start to freak. I just have a bad feeling because of how my meeting went with Arnold. I knew after the amazing and intimate night Brooke and I had, that she wouldn’t just disregard me like this.

  I pace through my house for over two hours, before finally forcing myself into bed at midnight with my phone on my nightstand. The ringer is turned on high so it’ll wake me up if she calls while I’m asleep. But as it turns out, the high volume isn’t necessary; I can’t sleep, and she doesn’t call.

  I try to play it cool at work. Too paranoid to call upstairs looking for her, I just force myself to draw until it’s time to defiantly leave for Starbucks. To hell with Arnold, telling me I can’t bring Brooke coffee.

  I know Brooke didn’t forget to call me, something happened: like every one of her phones died and she was pulled into an endless all-day meeting as soon as she arrived. I’m so worked up that my Buzz Lightyear sketch on her Starbucks’ cup is half-hearted. She deserves better, and I know it.

  As I head up the elevator I wonder what I will say if Arnold sees that I have completely disregarded his “orders” to quit my coffee time with Brooke. But as it turns out, I didn’t need to consider the potential fallout. For when I approach her office my worst fears are confirmed. Her office is dark and Brooke-less. I turn to Morgan and she nods silently. She seems to know something is up in that creepy secretary way.

  I hand Morgan the coffee. “Where is she?”

  “Arnauld took her on a surprise trip to Bacara, that resort just outside Santa Barbara.”

  “On a Tuesday?” I ask, bewildered.

  “Monday night actually. Freaky huh? I knew they were having dinner, but I knew nothing about this trip. Alana didn’t either,” she confides.

  “So how did you find out?” I ask, gripping the edge of her desk so I don’t fall over.

  “I got a weird email from her blackberry at nine p.m. last night. She said he was taking her to celebrate the Emmy win. She then gave me a list of meetings to cancel. They won’t be back in the office until Thursday.”

  I look at her stunned.

  “The other weird thing is that Arnauld gave Alana instructions to throw a big party this Saturday for the whole company to celebrate the win. You know, our first Emmy in two years.”

  “Poor Alana, she’s going nuts…I mean a party for four hundred people by Saturday. I’m trying to help her. I’ve got all of these lists going.” She fans her hands over several printouts that are striped in different colors of highlighter.

  She suddenly picks one up and moans. “Damn, I’m sorry Nathan. I was supposed to call you.” She points to one of the items on the list.

  “What does it say?”

  “Please contact Nathan right away and tell him I’m sorry I couldn’t call, but we’ll talk when I get back. Shit…she said to contact you right away. I had it in my head to tell you when you came up for Starbucks time. Sorry, I screwed up.”

  I want to strangle her, but I stay as calm as possible. “Yeah, I was worried when I didn’t hear from her,” I admit. Of course, I can’t tell her that I’m far more worried now.

  I should’ve never underestimated Arnold. The crafty bastard didn’t crawl to the top of his profession by being slow-witted. He obviously is not one to be outdone.

  “Have you heard from her since that email?”

  “No,” she says without hesitation. “But it’s a romantic getaway—I’m not expecting to.”

  Damn, just kill me now and put me out of this misery. My Brooke is at a fancy resort with hairy back, being wined and dined, massaged and pampered. What does she get from me? Fumbling foot massages, paper cup drawings and In-N-Out. I don’t stand a chance and I’m starting to wonder why I ever thought I did. Before the despair fully kicks i
n I decide to make a quick exit. “Okay, thanks Morgan. If you hear anything else, will you let me know?”

  She takes a sip of Brooke’s coffee, her fingers carelessly covering the Buzz drawing. I turn my head so I don’t have to watch.

  “Sure, Nathan.”

  I don’t even remember the walk back to my cube.

  Once back at my animation desk I consider my options. I obsess on the idea of driving to this Bacara place. What I can’t figure out is what I would do once I get there…run into them casually at dinner? Yeah, I just happened to be in the area and heard the food here was really good. Would I spy on them by the pool while perched up in a tree? Probably not…with my luck I’d get flustered seeing Brooke in a bikini, and plummet to my death—or worse, survive only to face public humiliation via Mojo Jojo.

  It’s not like Brooke was kidnapped. As much as I love the idea of saving her, I can’t break down the door to their suite, pull him off of her, beat him to a pulp and then carry her away in my arms. I do, however make a note to save this idea for future wanking fodder…especially the manly carrying her off in my arms part.

  No, Brooke went of her own free will. Maybe she was even excited about it. He is her boyfriend after all. Romantic getaways sound like something girls really like. I’d like one too if it were with Brooke, even if there weren’t a comic convention involved.

  I rest my face in my hands and lean over a really bad Bernie drawing.

  Damn Nathan, this obsessing isn’t helping anything.

  In desperation I grab my cell phone, and reach out to Curtis, hoping I catch him during one of those very brief periods where he isn’t completely distracted by Billie.

  “Curtis,” I groan when he answers his phone.

  “Hey dude, you sound like crap. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Brooke’s been kidnapped,” I say, not hiding the devastation in my voice.

  “What the fuck? Are you serious?”

  I realize that wording may not have been wise. “Well actually, by her boyfriend. He suddenly took her to Santa Barbara for some mid-week romantic get-away.”

  “Dude, do-not-do-that! I was getting amped up to go all Rambo and help you hunt down whoever kidnapped her.”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t handle this, Curtis. I don’t know what to do. Can we go get a beer or something?”

  “I’m supposed to pick up Billie at her store soon to go get burgers. Why don’t you come?”

  “I don’t want to mess up your date, but a female perspective might be helpful with this too.”

  “Okay, I’ll call and warn her you’re coming. Why don’t you meet us at her shop at six-thirty.”

  I rush to finish my work so that I can sneak out a little early. My favorite comic book store sounds like the most comforting place in the world to be right now.

  When I pass through the doors I take a deep breath and feel instantly calmer now that I’m in one of my happy places. Billie is on the phone, so I wave to her and head over to the New Release section to check out the latest Thor issue. I’m several pages into the story when Billie comes up behind me.

  “So Curtis says you’ve got it bad, Nathan.”

  I sigh and put the book back on the rack before turning to her. “Yeah, Billie…real bad.”

  “So he wasn’t toying with me? You really are in love with Brooke, and were doing this thing with Dani to stir things up?”

  “Something like that,” I admit.

  “That was sure stupid,” she says, matter-of-factly, her fists perched on her hips.

  “Yeah, well, I never claimed to be good at this love stuff. I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s amazing I’ve gotten as far with her as I have.”

  “Did you do it?” she asks, her eyes wide and disbelieving.

  I look down, my cheeks burning. But I realize that I’m not going to get good advice unless I’m honest. “Yes, we did. And now she’s doing it with her boyfriend at some fancy resort.”

  “Oh, bummer, dude.”

  “I don’t even know now why she did it with me.”

  “Shut up, Evans. I don’t want to hear you talking like that. You’re such a catch and you’re just too stupid to realize it. I used to think that your cluelessness was kind of charming, but now it’s getting old.”

  Billie thinks I’m a catch? I scratch my head, bewildered.

  “So how was the sex? Was it good?”

  “I thought it was amazing.”

  “Did she ask you to spend the night?”

  I nod.

  “Morning sex?”

  “Yes,” I admit, embarrassed.

  She folds her tattooed arms over her chest and tips her head up, like she’s calculating something.

  “Here’s the deal. Brooke is falling for you, but it’s complicated.”

  I blanch. It’s eerie she repeated Brooke’s exact word: complicated. I nod briskly, encouraging her to tell me more.

  “Arnauld is her boss, and you’re making her realize that he doesn’t give her what she needs, but her life and work are built around him. He’s now realized what’s happening and he’s doing damage control to protect his assets. He’s probably brain-washing her as we speak.”

  “Arggg,” I moan. “Yes, yes. He’s brainwashing her, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of. What do I do, Billie?”

  Just then Curtis walks through the door and saunters over to us, pulling Billie into his arms.

  “Hey bro,” he says as he holds her.

  “You’ve got one brilliant girlfriend Curtis,” I tell him, gesturing towards Billie.

  “Don’t I know it,” he laughs. “She’s sure as hell smarter than me.”

  “Damn right,” she agrees, smiling.

  We head over to Mo’s Café and over beers and burgers plot my strategy to pull Brooke out of Arnold’s web.

  “Be chill when she gets back dude, don’t act like a crazy obsessed stalker cause that will turn her off for sure,” Curtis advises.

  I turn to Billie. “Did you really mean what you said at the shop, that Brooke is falling for me?” I want to believe that so much it hurts.

  Billie nods. “But you’ve got to let her figure this out on her own time. If you push her it will backfire.”

  I take a swig of my beer and give myself a silent lecture to allow Brooke some space. As desperately as I want her back in my arms, I have to look toward the future. I have to be the together, loving person she would want to be with. Not the wound-up, desperately in love man, I really am.

  • • •

  The next day, when I step into the break room, there’s a crowd gathered around a large flier on the bulletin board.

  “Par-tay! I know just what I’m going to wear!” Dani calls out. “Wait until you see how hot I’m going to look Saturday night.”

  I catch Nick rolling his eyes, but I also see him fighting a smile.

  “I can’t believe they rented the Palace,” replies Genna. “That must have cost a fortune.”

  “Palace? Is this thing in the kingdom of Far Far Away? Will we be in the presence of royalty?” Andy snickers. “If so, I’ll make sure and wear a clean T-shirt.”

  “No, idiot,” Joel responds. “It’s that club in Hollywood. Do you ever get out of your man-cave?”

  “Only when I’m out of brews and Cheetos.”

  “Our noble leader must be spending a fortune. We didn’t even get cost of living increases this year, what’s he trying to prove?” asks Kevin.

  “Word is that he’s trying to impress his lady, that Brooke chick that does development,” Andy chimes in.

  I bristle and curl my hands into fists. It offends me deeply to hear her name pass through Andy’s slobbering lips. Never mind that I almost threw up in my mouth after hearing her referred to as a chick let alone Arnauld’s “lady”.

  “Well, if he wants to impress her he could take what he’s spending on this shindig and pay for a wedding. That would make more sense. They could have kids and start their own animation dynasty.”
r />   “Oooo, maybe it’s a surprise royal wedding and we’re all invited!” squeals Genna.

  “If that’s the case I’m not bothering to pull out a clean T-shirt. This one will do,” Andy grumbles as he pulls down the hem, so we see Charlie Brown’s stretched face.

  Dani looks over at me. I can see the concern on her face, but I keep my expression calm even though I’m getting more nauseated as each second passes. I slowly work my way over to the counter and pour myself another coffee, before heading out of the break room. Dani catches up with me in the hallway.

  “Are you okay, Nathan?” she asks gently.

  “Not really. But what can I do? He took her out of town and I can’t talk to her to know what’s going on. Until they get back from their trip I’m driving blind, hoping I don’t crash.”

  “Are you coming on Saturday?” She asks.

  “I don’t think I can avoid it, but I’m sure not looking forward to it.”

  “Well, I’ll be there if you need a friend to hang with. We can go together if you want.”

  “Thanks, Dani. You’re a good friend.”

  The rest of the afternoon is tantamount to Chinese water torture. Horrible thoughts drip with a consistent pace through my mind, while I pray for my sanity. Drip, drip, drip, drip…only time will tell how long I can hold on.

  That evening I try to work on my comic book but the first line I draw of B-Girl undoes me. I end up resorting to hard liquor and watching bootleg versions of the censored wartime cartoons to numb my mind until I finally pass out in a Looney Tunes stupor.

  Thursday I hear through the grapevine that Arnold and Brooke are back and there’s a meeting first thing with his team about Saturday’s event. Genna’s friend is the CFO’s assistant so we get all of our info directly through her.

  Evidently it’s going to be a full on party: there’s going to be a DJ with a dance floor, catered food, open bar…the works. I didn’t think animators danced, but I’m sure the assistants and accounting staff will make up for us uncoordinates, and get out there and boogie. The whole thing sounds like a major pain-in-the-ass production and we’re all expected to go.

  I’m so anxious to talk to Brooke but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to head upstairs until I know more. Maybe I can drop by her house after work?