Memoirs Of An Antihero

by Drew Blank

  “No, idiot. You are going blonde.” With that, she displayed a box of Blonde Ambition hair lightener that had been sitting amongst the clutter on Phil’s desk.

  “Why don’t you just make the wig blonde?” I figured it was a fair question.

  “Because all the police sketches being circulated everywhere have you with brown hair. It’s called consistency, dummy.” Twisty tapped my forehead, to further bring home her point.

  “Also, the blonde hairs wouldn’t hide the black Kevlar as well. You’d look like you had horrible roots,” Phil added.

  “Just try on the wig,” Jim urged. “Not only is it helping bulletproof your skull, the hairs are flame retardant.”

  “Goody. My head will be fireproof.” I laid on the sarcasm pretty thick in hopes someone might catch on that I was still not thrilled with the idea of wearing a wig. Twisty got up on her tip toes and pulled the hair helmet over my head.

  “Also, the hairline won’t recede on this.” She cleared her throat in an exaggerated manner to accentuate the point that my own hair was indeed showing less loyalty to my scalp as I matured.

  “You are mean,” was all I could say in response.

  “But you love me.” Twisty kissed my forehead as she straightened my fake, flameproof hair. “Voila!” She took a step back to admire her handy work.

  “How’s it look?” I couldn’t wait to see a mirror. There was a fear that I would have the hair of a Vegas lounge singer with a bad toupee.

  “Pretty damn good, actually,” Twisty said.

  “I wasn’t quite sure how this would turn out, but she’s right. It looks great.” Jim reaffirmed Twisty’s initial observation.

  “Phil?” I fished for a third opinion.

  “I’m impressed. It looks perfect,” he said nodding.

  I ran to the bathroom to take a look in the mirror. They weren’t lying. It looked about as real as I think anyone could have gotten it. As I checked out my reflection, it occurred to me we had gotten side tracked.

  “So, you never did answer my question about that last monitor,” I called down the hall as I left the restroom.

  “Oh yeah. It’s the last part of your head gear,” Phil said. “I couldn’t really do anything to alter those glasses you have been wearing, and there is also the concern that they aren’t very stable. They could be crushed with one good blow to the face. So, Twisty found these.” He held up a pair of industrial-style goggles.

  “I got ‘em at the Army Surplus across the street from Tully’s. Aren’t they awesome?” They were huge goggles, almost bigger than the sunglasses. They were still round, giving me the bug eye look, but definitely sturdier.

  “This band will keep them secure and it will also keep the hair in place.” Phil tugged at the thick rubber strap attached to the goggles.

  “You have a camera hooked up in these too?” I took the goggles from Phil and began checking them out. There had definitely been modifications done, as was evident by the circuitry and wires soldered inside.

  “It’s got a camera, two way communication device, night vision and even a flip down monitor if we need to show you something from our computers. These puppies have it all. Try ‘em on.” Phil was excited to show off what seemed to be his crowning achievement. The goggles by far made the codpiece and wig worth it.

  “How do I look?” With the goggles on, it felt real.

  “Wait!” Twisty ran behind me and opened the flap on the left arm, revealing more flesh colored nylon. After unrolling it and snapping it to the suit she took a step back. “There. Now it’s complete.” I looked down and covering the moon tattoo that normally adorns my left bicep were five thick, black, bold letters spelling out one simple word.

  FREAK

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Do you really like the suit?” Twisty asked as we strolled down the sidewalk leaving the apartment so Phil and Jim could get an afternoon nap.

  “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s awesome. I can’t believe you guys did all that,” I assured her again. “I love it. I never thought I could feel like a bad-ass wearing bicycle shorts, over the knee boots and a codpiece, but somehow it works.” I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into me. It was difficult for me to express just how proud of her I was. Although it was never my intention to get her mixed up with our plans, I was glad she stumbled upon my secret. It was great to see her getting so involved with something.

  “Well, I’m glad. I think you look cute in it.” As she snuggled into my armpit to get warm, I couldn’t help but wonder why I didn’t take the next step with Twisty. She really was everything I could possibly want in a girl. But that was the problem. She was everything I could want, not everything I did want. I had to be available for Moxie and I just couldn’t fathom spreading myself thin between her and anyone else. It sucked, because Twisty really was perfect.

  “Are you nervous about tonight?” She was referring to the quick briefing Phil had given me before heading to bed. While Jim’s main focus had been my suit and all the fun gadgets, Phil was busy gathering information. He had managed to access several of the local dealers’ email accounts, voice mail messages, and while he would not directly admit to it, there seemed to be some good old fashioned mail fraud being committed as well. He had also been loyally listening in on Randy during work hours at Tully’s.

  From what Phil could gather, Mouse had asked Randy to fill in for him while he was out of action. This included meeting with Benji Carver and replenishing Mouse’s depleted inventory. It seemed Benji was planning a meet up for some of his bigger dealers that night. Randy was quickly being advanced up Cross’ criminal food chain. Not only did Benji Carver welcome Randy, he made it clear via email he was anxious to hear more about his encounter with The Freak. I was hoping Benji would have his own tale to tell soon enough.

  “Not so much nervous as excited,” I answered Twisty honestly. “It seems like there will be more people there tonight than I am used to, so that part is a little nerve racking. On the other hand, I have all sorts of new toys I am dying to try out.” She looked up at me as we walked arm in arm and just smiled.

  “You are crazy. You know that, right?” She laughed.

  “I have been told something like that before, yes,” I simply admitted.

  “Just as long as you know. So, where are we going?” It wasn’t until we had walked a few minutes and I saw Twisty’s Honda Prelude parked a block up when it occurred to me we had no idea what our destination was. We left Jim and Phil’s place to let them get some sleep, but we really had no concrete plans after that.

  “Wanna go see Moxie?” I asked, not sure if she would want to see her little buddy in such a sickly state.

  “You think she wants company?” Twisty seemed genuinely concerned.

  “She may be tired, but I know she would be crazy happy to see you. Wanna go?” I offered again.

  “Definitely. I miss her. I don’t think I’ve seen her since…” She thought for a moment.

  “Since the Mr. Chin’s incident,” I finished her statement.

  “Oh yeah. Damn. That long ago?” She pursed her lips as if in deep thought.

  “Yup. She hasn’t seen anyone but Reggie and me since she started the treatments. I think she is a little embarrassed,” I explained.

  “Of what?” Twisty obviously couldn’t imagine the toll the chemo was having on Moxie.

  “She’s just real weak right now. She doesn’t have that same Moxie glow.” I choked back a single tear. “But you shoulda seen her last night. She put on her Halloween costume and she looked beautiful.”

  “Aw. I bet she did.” Twisty squeezed my arm tighter in an attempt to comfort me. “Has she started…” she tugged at her hair and raised a brow, as if that was enough to finish her question.

  “It’s coming out more and more. Yeah.” I exhaled deeply as I lost the excitement I had for the coming night’s events. All I could think about was Moxie. “She knows she’s going to lose it and that isn’t helping.”r />
  “I have an idea.” Twisty’s saddened demeanor immediately turned around as she tugged my arm and pulled me faster to the direction of her car.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, stumbling in tow.

  “Don’t worry ‘bout that. You got money?” She asked as we reached the Prelude.

  “Umm…yeah,” I said, hesitantly.

  “Perfect. Get in.” Without another word, she started the car and we zoomed off.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  “Knock knock.” Twisty slowly pushed open the door to Reggie’s place, peeking in to see if Moxie was awake. It was no secret that Reggie and Twisty did not get along. Reggie always felt I was lying to her when I would explain Twisty and I were just friends. As nauseated as it made me to say so, it was obvious Reggie was a little jealous. However, under the circumstances, I had a hunch Reggie wouldn’t mind her being there.

  “Twisty!” Moxie pulled herself up to a sitting position on the couch upon seeing us enter the room, although her focus was clearly on my friend more than me.

  “What’s up, freak?” Twisty swooped down to the couch, trying to conceal the plastic bag that was in her hand while giving Moxie a big kiss on the forehead.

  “Nothing. I don’t do anything,” Moxie replied, more in a joking manner than a bitter one, as she spread her arms, surveying her limited surroundings.

  “Well, that’s why I came here, silly.” Twisty had positioned herself on the couch behind Moxie, acting as a pillow. “I need your help,” she said as she brought the bag into view.

  “What’s that?” I hadn’t seen Moxie that full of life in two weeks. Twisty’s obnoxiously chipper attitude was definitely contagious. Without a word she pulled our recent purchase from the bag; a brand new set of hair clippers, still in the package.

  “I need a haircut.” Twisty smiled devilishly at Moxie. “And I need your help.”

  “What?” Moxie was taken aback by the request. I thought for sure she would see right through Twisty’s plan, but if she did she wasn’t letting on. “What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m gonna shave my head, duh!” Twisty said as she wrapped her arms around Moxie, poking her ribs. “So, you gonna help me or what?”

  “Yes!” Moxie squealed, as a result from the combination of excitement and tickling. “I’ll do it! I’ll do it! Just stop tickling me!” I knew exerting herself like that would tire her out quickly, but it was good to see her having some fun.

  “Well, get your lazy butt outta bed then.” Twisty nudged her forward. “I don’t think we can do it on the couch. Your mom might frown on all my hairs in the cushions.” I missed Moxie’s giggles. I knew if anyone could get them out of her, it would be Twisty.

  “What’s going on out here?” Reggie appeared from her bedroom in a robe, with a towel wrapped around her head. “Oh. Hi.” Reggie was not as cordial as she had been recently. I was sure Twisty’s presence had something to do with it. She always harbored a great deal of jealousy for the fun relationship Twisty had with Moxie.

  “Hey Reggie! Great to see ya!” Twisty never helped matters by being overly friendly.

  “Hey Christy.” Reggie’s tone was considerably less enthusiastic than Twisty’s. “I didn’t know you guys were here.” She flashed me a look that made it abundantly clear I was not welcome to just stop by anytime. Especially with company.

  “Sorry if we surprised you. Twisty just wanted to say hi.” I mustered up enough sincerity to warrant a friendlier response.

  “It’s fine. I’m just going to be in my room getting dressed. You guys have fun.” Reggie pulled the towel off her head and began drying her hair as she slipped back into her bedroom.

  “Let’s go cut some hair!” Twisty excitedly got her plan back on track.

  “Where should we do it?” Moxie asked, now holding the clippers.

  “Kitchen?” Twisty looked at me for approval. Since Reggie was in and out of the only bathroom, it seemed the kitchen would be the best place.

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll clean up the mess when we’re all done.”

  “Let’s go!” Twisty picked Moxie up in her arms and lumbered toward the kitchen.

  “Why’re you shavin’ your head, Twisty?” Moxie tilted her head as she normally did when asking a question.

  “Tired of all this hair.” Twisty tussled her spiky locks. “Figured you’d wanna help me get rid of it.”

  “Aren’t you afraid you’ll look funny?” Moxie continued her questioning as Twisty released her, sitting her on the counter next to the sink.

  “If by funny you mean super cool, then heck yeah!” She began tearing the clippers from the plastic casing. “Where do you wanna start?” After unraveling the cord from the packaging, Twisty plugged the automatic shears into a plug on the wall next to the disposal switch.

  “Me?” Moxie’s eyes lit up. “You really want me to cut your hair?”

  “Sure. Why not?” Twisty flicked the switch causing the clippers to come to life with an intimidating whir of gnashing blades. She had always been impulsive, some would even say a little mentally unstable, but there was never any doubt that behind her joking and manic exterior was a good heart. This was proof.

  “Take ‘em.” Twisty shoved the shaver into Moxie’s hand while bending over the sink. “Go to town.” With a devilish grin on her face, Moxie leaned in and ran the razors along the back of Twisty’s head. Clumps of hair began to fall downwards as Moxie got into the shearing of my best friend’s scalp.

  “This is fun!” Moxie’s infectious giggling was almost louder than the clatter of the blades.

  “How’s it lookin’?” Twisty turned her head slightly upwards to ask the question.

  “I like it!” Moxie responded gleefully.

  “Good!” Twisty yelled to be heard over the razor’s clamoring, “cuz you’re next.” The moment in between Twisty’s statement and Moxie’s reaction seemed like a lifetime to me. For that moment, my little girl froze as it became obvious to her what Twisty’s plan was all along. Would she feel deceived? Would she feel pressured? Would she break down in tears, too afraid to prepare herself for the inevitable? That moment seemed like an eternity as Moxie’s blank expression was truly unreadable.

  The anticipation lasted all of two seconds when Moxie gleefully responded, “Cool! Then it’s Daddy’s turn!”

  Twisty was a genius.

  “Yeah, Dad. You have no need for that pretty brown hair, now do ya?” Twisty asked teasingly, as she tipped her head up from the sink just enough to make eye contact with me while the shears continued to run over her scalp. With the armored wig she and Jim had created for my suit, there was no reason I couldn’t join in on the fun and she liked making that abundantly clear.

  “How can I say no to you two?” I shrugged as I squeezed Moxie’s shoulder.

  “You can’t,” they both said in unison.

  Once Moxie finished, Twisty clipped a few stragglers that had been missed. She then stood up, shook loose hair from her shirt and flashed us both her impish grin. “So? Is it me?”

  “Oh my gosh. You look beautiful Twisty!” Moxie leaned from her perch on the counter and wrapped her arms around Twisty’s neck. “But you are kinda itchy now.” She immediately recoiled, spitting airborne hairs from her mouth.

  “You ready to go?” Twisty menacingly flicked the switch on the clippers, pointing them at Moxie.

  “Yup!” Resting on her knees, she leaned her head over the sink.

  “Hold on!” I broke in before things got messy and wrapped a towel around the PICC line in Moxie’s arm. I wasn’t sure about the ins and outs of the device, but I didn’t need to take any chances of tiny hairs getting introduced into her system.

  “Now, are you sure about this?” Twisty asked, hovering the clippers over Moxie’s head.

  “Yup! I wanna look as pretty as you.” Her excitement was beyond refreshing. She was one tough little broad.

  “Here we go.” Twisty pushed the shears through the matted, greasy locks. “No t
urning back now!” Moxie’s laughter was almost maniacal as Twisty went to work.

  “It tickles,” Moxie giggled.

  “Uh oh.” Twisty stopped after a few moments, leaving the clippers clamoring in her hands.

  “What? What?” Moxie was understandably nervous and maybe even a little scared.

  “You have a really lumpy head.” Twisty cracked herself up as Moxie’s eyes widened.

  “I do not!” Moxie insisted, examining her scalp with her fingertips.

  “Okay. Okay. I’m just messing with ya. You have a very lovely skull,” Twisty conceded, while running her hand along the freshly shaved areas.

  “Daddy, does it look okay?” She pulled her head up from the sink, looking for reassurance.

  “You look great, pumpkin. I promise.” I kissed her head, lining my lips with all the stray clippings.

  “Thank you, Daddy.” She put her head back over the

  sink, signaling for Twisty to continue.

  After playing with a few variations of Mohawks, liberty spikes and other crazy hairdos, Moxie’s head was clean.

  “Wow,” I said, looking at my little girl running her fingers over the smooth stubble. “You look amazing.” I knew if I didn’t stick my head in that sink soon and shear my scalp, they were both going to see me erupt into a crying mess. Twisty’s plan was a success. Not only did it help Moxie accept the inevitability of losing her hair, but it gave her some much needed fun, while showing her she was not fighting the battle alone.

  “So, are you ladies just gonna stand there or is someone going to shave my head?” I yelled up from the sink, allowing the tears to pour down my cheeks, shielded from sight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  “I need a hat. This is cold,” I said to Twisty from the passenger seat of her car, rubbing my head, as we headed back to wake up Jim and Phil.

  “Oh stop yer whinin’, Nancy,” Twisty responded with sweet eloquence. “I like it. I may never grow my hair back. I can’t wait to see DeeDee’s face when I come into work like this.” With all that had been going on, I found it funny Twisty could still think of ways to piss off our pain in the ass manager.