Sidekick Returns

by Auralee Wallace

  Chapter 19

  ‘How?’ Bart said, after making a number of spluttering noises. ‘How exactly are you going to beat the trap?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I won’t know that part until I get there, will I?’

  Bart didn’t say anything, just clutched his hair and shook his head.

  ‘So, you in?’

  ‘In? Bremy—’ Bart cut himself off, inhaling deeply. ‘And what about Muscles? What’s he going to think about all this?’

  ‘Don’t call him that,’ I muttered.

  ‘What? You call him that all the time.’

  ‘Yeah, but I mean it with affection and lust. You say it like it’s a bad thing.’ I looked around. Why didn’t this store have more seating? I walked over to the counter and reached around to drag out what I affectionately thought of as my stool. ‘And I don’t know what my sweet, brainy Pierce, man of integrity, is going to think of all this, but I need to make sure my father doesn’t hurt him—I know it’s not a coincidence that he’s the one covering this event—and maybe, you know, this will help him see me in a new light.’

  Bart’s body convulsed in a single guffaw of laughter. ‘Yeah, okay.’

  ‘Look, my being a superhero may very well be a stupid dream, but it’s my life’s dream, and I’m not ready to give it up. Not when Ryder needs me. Not even for Musc—I mean, Pierce.’

  ‘Your life’s dream?’ he asked, with yet another shake of his head. ‘Again, it’s only been about a month or two since—’

  ‘Bup!’ I waved my hand in the air. ‘It was always there. I just didn’t know it, and that’s not something I can change. Not even for Pierce. Besides, I truly believe in my heart that Pierce will come to the conclusion that his life is better with me in it.’

  ‘Bremy, you’re always talking about the universe giving you signs. Do you think maybe it’s possible, just possible, that not just the universe, but actual people, are giving you a bunch of big ol’ signs, and you’re just ignoring them?’

  ‘No.’

  He threw his hands into the air. ‘Oh, well, okay then.’

  Neither of us said anything. I looked down at my feet for a good moment before glancing back up. ‘So, you in?’

  He half-sighed, half-growled. ‘I’m in.’

  ‘Yes!’ I jumped up off my stool, sending it crashing to the floor.

  ‘Only because I don’t think it’s right that anyone die alone.’ He dug his finger into the cookie tube for more dough. ‘And you’ve caught me in a self-destructive phase.’

  I patted him on the back. ‘I’d say you won’t regret it, but we both know that’s probably a lie.’ I stooped to right the metal seat. ‘It will be fun, though.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe afterwards we can braid each other’s hair if we get side by side coffins.’

  I half-turned to leave. ‘No can do. I’m going wrestling after,’ I said, ‘but I like your enthusiasm.’

  ‘You’re going wrestling after?’ he repeated to my departing back. ‘You know that’s not like going out for pizza, right?’

  I made a gun shape with my both my hands and pointed them at him while making a click-click with my tongue.

  ‘Okay, I have to try one more time.’ He shook his head and inhaled deeply. ‘Are you sure you’re not just creating a whole bunch of chaos so that you don’t have to deal with the fact that your boyfriend has made multiple attempts to dump you, your father is trying to destroy you, and your mentor wants nothing to do with you?’

  ‘Pfft.’ I scanned my brain desperately for something to say after that. ‘No.’

  ‘Well, on the bright side,’ he said, with a bit of a dry smile, ‘I think I’ve got the perfect outfit for this masquerade. It came with a comic book promo.’

  ‘Excellent.’

  ‘Otherwise I’d have had to go second-hand tux shopping, and I think we both know that wasn’t about to happen.’

  Suddenly a light bulb of an epiphany exploded above my head. ‘Second-hand shop … that’s it! You’re a genius! I gotta go!’

  I ran over to the door then ran right back again to Bart, grabbing a marker off his counter.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘I need this too,’ I muttered, rushing over to a cardboard box filled with a new shipment of video games. I dumped the contents on the floor as gently as I could.

  ‘Again, hey!’

  ‘Sorry. Sorry.’ I jumped back up and hustled back over to the door, box in hand.

  ‘I’m going on record as saying this is terrible idea,’ he shouted. ‘There’s not enough genius in the world to balance out your level of crazy!’

  I flashed him a toothy smile. ‘And that’s saying something.’

  ***

  When I got to the glass door of my next stop, I planted my fists on my hips and took a long satisfying breath. Finally. Finally, I was about to walk into a situation where I unequivocally had the moral high ground. An injustice had been done to me, and I was about to right that wrong.

  Just then I noticed a small man with glasses and a briefcase standing beside me, staring up at the sky. ‘Um … hello?’

  ‘What are you looking at?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘You were just standing there staring up at the sky. I just wanted to know what you were looking at.’

  ‘Oh!’ I said, laughing. ‘I wasn’t looking at anything. I was staring off in the distance finally—albeit temporarily—satisfied with my place in the universe.’

  The man stared at me for a moment, shrugged, and then said, ‘Cool,’ before walking away.

  ‘Thank you!’ I called after him. It was cool. I was cool. Time to do this thing. My entire life was falling apart, but in this moment I was about to get me some justice.

  I stuck out my arm in the Heisman position and hit the glass door. ‘It’s Judg— Whoa!’ I guess I hit the door with a little too much force because it smacked into a mannequin dressed as Elvis. I dove for the figure and caught it just before it hit the floor. I hurried to straighten him back up, but his heavy rounded base kept skidding around on the linoleum floor. ‘Little help here?’ I asked, puffing some hair out of my face.

  I heard a grunt, and then someone shuffling over from behind the counter. Meaty hands landed on Elvis and helped me tip him back up to an upright position.

  I hopped back and straightened my shirt before flinging my head up to challenge the wrong-doer once again.

  ‘As I was saying,’ I paused for dramatic effect, ‘it’s Judgement Day.’

  Chapter 20

  Tired, watery eyes stared back at me without recognition.

  I cranked up the level of righteous indignation in my eyes.

  That did the trick. The man behind the counter let the tiniest flicker of guilt slip.

  ‘Ah-ha!’ I said with a point. ‘You do remember me!’

  He licked his thick lips with his thick tongue, putting lots of ick into both. ‘You didn’t come back. I told you you had a month.’

  ‘Oh no, no, my friend,’ I said, wagging my finger back and forth. ‘We both know that’s not how it went down.’

  He walked back over to the seat behind his counter, and let himself down on the cushioned stool with a whompf. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, lady.’

  I pulled my eyebrows high up onto my forehead. ‘Oh, but you do.’ I glided closer to counter. I had my quarry in my sights now. ‘You and I both know you gave up that bracelet. Probably got a pretty penny for it too. You, the man who told me your business was based on your integrity.’

  He reached down to change the channel on the small TV tucked under the counter, but I could see the beads of sweat popping up on his brow.

  I smacked my hand on the counter. He jumped ever so slightly. Tingles raced over my body. Oh, that had felt good.

  ‘I will have you know that bracelet almost got me killed.’ He furrowed his brow a little. It was true. I had been right in the middle of a twisted heart to heart with my father who was moving in to have me shipped
off to a mental institution, or dungeon in one of his many basements, and my wits were the only thing keeping me alive. Terrifying, that. Then my sister had appeared with my bracelet, the matching one on her wrist, and she had held it up as proof of how far my life had spun out of control. Who pawns something with so much sentimental value? I did. I had to. Each bracelet had three diamonds to represent the two of us and our mother. The emotion of it all had almost been enough to break me. Almost.

  ‘Listen, lady. I told you,’ he said, refusing to hold eye contact. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘No, now you listen, lady,’ I said with a point. I wasn’t sure what I meant by that, but it felt right. I took a moment to rock back and forth on my heels. ‘I didn’t want to do this but …’ I walked out of the store, grabbed the long piece of cardboard I had carted here from Bart’s, and stomped back inside.

  ‘What’s that?’ the storekeeper asked, with a jerk of his thumb.

  I whipped the sign around for him to read. He squinted his eyes, ‘Don’t pawn with this … spawn!’ He looked up at me. ‘Hey!’

  ‘Oh yes, my friend,’ I said with scary glee. ‘And it only gets worse. You see, I was given a totally undeserved leave of absence from my job, which means I can walk up and down the street in front of your store all day with this baby.’ I gave my poster a smart slap.

  The man twisted his thick bulbous features into something resembling an angry fish. ‘I’ll call the cops!’

  ‘Oh please. You’ve got a guitar for sale in the window with a bullet hole in it!’ I yelled. ‘You don’t want cops in your … your … den of inequity!’

  He puffed some air through his lips. ‘I’ll give you five bucks right now if you tell me what that means.’

  ‘It means … it means … you are a bad person!’ I strode forward and pointed my index finger on his counter. ‘And I will have justice!’

  He sighed heavily and shook his head. ‘What do you want?’

  Victory chills ran down my spine. ‘I need a dress.’

  ‘A dress?’

  ‘A dress that will sear a vision of me into Prince Charming’s consciousness forever … and that might be good in a fight.’

  ‘Do I look like your freaking fairy godmother?’ he asked, planting his meaty hands on his hips.

  My eyes swept over my second-hand nemesis again. Why did he always have to wear dirty undershirts? Nobody with that much underarm hair should wear undershirts in public. ‘Certainly not, but you’ll have to do.’

  ‘You’re welcome to search the store, but I don’t have many dresses that aren’t made of latex.’

  I scowled, and looked around. ‘Surely you have something that’s … fancy?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, making a horking noise at the back of his throat. ‘There’s that.’

  I twisted around to see what he was pointing at. ‘Seriously?’ He shrugged his rounded shoulders.

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘Hey, it doesn’t get any fancier than The King.’ I eyed the rhinestone encrusted white jumpsuit once more. Queenie was a wizard with a needle and thread, but that was … wow.

  I exhaled heavily. ‘Fine. I’ll take it.’

  ‘Good. Glad we could come to an agreem—’

  ‘I’ll take it, and a fifty.’

  ‘What!’

  I smacked my hands on the counter again. ‘Oh, I know you got way more than fifty for my bracelet.’

  He screwed up his face, opening and shutting his mouth a few times, but unable to get anything out.

  I rattled the piece of cardboard out in front of me.

  ‘Twenty-five,’ he finally spat.

  ‘Fifty.’

  ‘Twenty-six.’

  ‘Fifty!’

  ‘Alright. Alright. Sheesh,’ he said, punching a button on his older-than-dinosaurs cash register. He pulled out a stack of tens then brought his thumb up to his mouth.

  ‘Don’t you dare lick that thumb, mister!’ I yelled, with a pretty vicious point at his mouth.

  He rolled his bloodshot eyes up to mine.

  ‘You count the money without the spit.’

  He grunted, counted out five tens, and passed them to me.

  ‘Thank you.’ I swiped the small fold away then walked over to the Elvis mannequin to fiddle with the clasps of my purchase. Hmm, it was a little harder than it looked to get unfastened. I put my sign on the floor and went at the jumpsuit again. When I finally found the zipper, it seemed to be stuck on something. I gave it a good yank, but nothing happened. I yanked harder and the metal base of the mannequin skidded a little. I yanked it as hard as I could, and the mannequin skidded right out of my hands and slid towards the bullet guitar, knocking it off its stand and tumbling into a well-worn drum set.

  ‘Just take the whole thing!’ the man shouted.

  I gave him a nod and scooped headless Elvis up and underneath my arm.

  All things considered, I was starting to think my luck was turning around.

  ***

  After my victory at the second-hand store, I decided to buy a couple of sandwiches at the deli—one for me, one for Elvis—before heading home to take a nap. Despite my full belly, I found it difficult to sleep; a glittering headless mannequin looming over your bed will do that to you. So I spent some time staring out my window trying to figure out how to keep my awesome momentum going and trying not to think about Jenny, my father, and any doubts about Ryder … and thinking about all of them most of the time. It seemed like a lifetime since I had left home, and yet it had only been a couple of months. I remembered what Bart had said earlier in the day about my creating chaos so that I didn’t have to deal with everything that was going wrong. He might have been on to something, but to me it felt more like someone had upped the speed on the treadmill of my life, and it was taking everything in me just to keep up.

  After the mulling, I got bored, so I decided to try some exercise. Five push-ups felt sufficient. I mean, I didn’t want to collapse and bring my face anywhere near my floor. God only knows what was on there. After that, I watched the pigeons on the ledge outside my window and made up soap opera dialogue to match their peckish interactions … ha! Peckish. But once Slade confessed to sleeping with Maria’s sister, Birdie, that got boring too.

  Finally the ambient glow of the sun that managed to seep its way through the towering buildings threatening to flatten mine began to dim. It would have been peaceful if it hadn’t been for the blaring of my neighbour, Mrs Reese’s TV. That woman did like her cable. It sounded like the news … the news discussing something about St. James Industries!

  I flopped out of bed and moved closer to the wall. … it has been rumoured that St. James Industries has been using this technology on Jenny St. James herself …

  I crouched closer to the wall. … Some have even speculated that it was the lesser known St. James sister at the incident yesterday who …

  Suddenly the channel changed. ‘No!’ I shouted. ‘Turn it back!’

  ‘What’s that dear?’ Mrs Reese yelled back over what sounded to be the theme song for Gilligan’s Island.

  ‘Please! Turn it back!’

  ‘You got a cat?’

  ‘Turn the channel back!’ I pleaded.

  ‘Oh! Certainly dear.’

  … Showers are expected most of the day with a high of …

  I sighed. ‘It’s okay. Never mind.’

  ‘Okay, dear.’

  I got to my feet. Enough was enough. I was tired of this nonsense. My day wasn’t over yet. It was time to figure out what was going on with my sister.

  Chapter 21

  I changed my clothes, put on my new glorious coat, and moved to hurry out of my apartment. The only problem was that I couldn’t get to the door, what with Elvis blocking my way. Hmm, what to do about The King? The night at the museum was tomorrow, and as I moved my eyes over the bedazzled rhinestone brilliance of the jumpsuit, I couldn’t help but think Queenie would need all the time she could get if she was going to tur
n this into something awesome. I grabbed Elvis around the waist and dragged him into the hall to rest in front of Queenie’s door. I gave him another once-over while chewing my nail. It probably wasn’t the best idea to leave him here all by his lonesome, but I couldn’t wait around for her to get home. I had to find out what was going on with my sister. I just hoped that none of my more isolated neighbours made off with him for company.

  I gave Elvis a little wave then headed for the stairs.

  It was spitting outside. I knew I should have brought an umbrella … except I didn’t own an umbrella. I rubbed my cashmered arm. ‘Hang in there, sweetheart. I’ll get you someplace dry as soon as I get me some news.’ I skipped-ran my way down the street, feeling like things were finally turning around. I needed to use the momentum I had going from my victory at the second-hand shop to tackle my twin troubles.

  Sure, I hadn’t been the greatest of people in my previous life. Vapid, shallow, self-serving, ignorant … among other things. But I was trying to do better! Be better. And I seemed to recall there’s some sort of law in physics that says if you do good things, good things come back to you. Or maybe I had just read that in Cosmo. I often confused science and women’s magazines. Either way, it didn’t matter. I could feel the universe on my side. Bart wanted me to listen to the signs. Well, I was listening, baby. Listening hard.

  Minutes later, I stood staring into a storefront window. The shop sold all sorts of electronics, but they had TVs playing in the front window, and at least a few of them were always turned to the news. I had spent many a night by this window. I missed TV.

  I scanned the high definition pictures beaming into the night. Bingo! The TV in the bottom corner had Jenny standing in front of a podium with a microphone. I scuttled over and pressed my hands to the glass. I obviously couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. There she was. Perfect. Beautiful. Healthy. She looked just like me … but better … like an updated version. Pain filled my chest. All signs of the disabilities she had since birth—complications of her twin sister compressing her umbilical cord—gone. No hitch in her left shoulder. Nothing slack about the expression in her face. I should have been happy, I guess. But she wasn’t my Jenny. I loved the way my sister looked before. Did that make me selfish? Probably. I could just add that to the list of things that made me a bad person.