“No more discussion.” Steven banged his fist on the desk. ”Belinda wants it, too. She insists. I'm gonna sack her.”
Sandra looked him in the eye. “No, you'll not.”
“She damaged the computer! She cut all the cables! To shut it down, she said! She blew all the fuses! She blacked out the whole place!” He shook his head. “She's fired. ”
“No, she isn't”
Steven took a deep breath. “Gimme two good reasons why I shouldn't...”
Sandra didn't move. “I've got only one.”
“That has to be a very – and I mean VERY – good one!”
“It is”, Sandra said.
Steven narrowed his eyes. “You're kidding...”
Sandra still didn't move. “If you sack her I'll tell Pam O'Rourke that you killed Toby, the hamster. In fourth grade.”
Steven went pale. “I didn't do it! It was an accident! How should I know that he had stuck his little nose between... It wasn't my fault! When I slammed the door I didn't know...”
“You did it”, Sandra said. “And I've got the evidence.”
Steven wanted to say something but Sandra was faster. “It's on video”, she said. “And I've got copies.”
Steven leaned back. “I don't believe a word.”
Sandra's face was without expression. “The room was under surveillance because somebody had put whiskey into Curt the Cobra's water bowl.”
Steven's hand began to tremble. “Vodka. It was vodka... Er...” He tried to steady his voice. “And Curt wasn't a cobra but a miserable rattlesnake.”
Sandra's stare was unnerving. “I nicked the tape.”
Steven licked his lips. “And you have it... where?”
“At a safe place”, Sandra said. “If you sack Shelley, a copy will go to Pam.”
Steven swallowed hard. “Pam O'Rourke? That fat little girl in the pink dress which made her look like a stuffed sausage?”
“The little pink sausage from forth grade is now a Hundred-Fifty pound professional UFC wrestler with thirty-two penalties for unnecessary cruelty and unfair fighting.”
Steven wiped his palms. “You really think she cares? After all the years? Don't be ridiculous!”
Sandra's voice had now Mafia quality, calm, level, which turned even polite conversation into a death threat. “Toby was her favorite pet. When I talked to her last time, after she was arrested for almost killing five guys in a bar fight, she confessed that what had carried her away had been thinking of Toby and the piece-of-shit who had crushed him in the doorframe.”
Steven held on to the armrests of his chair while staring at Sandra.
Sandra stared back.
“This is just one big load of bullshit, right?”
Sandra was silent.
“You really want to tell me that you nicked a surveillance tape in fourth grade 'cause you had the feeling you might need it later in your life to blackmail me? You're kidding!”
Sandra was still silent.
“Pam O'Rourke... She really in UFC?”
For the first time Sandra smiled. “You should put ice on your eye. It looks nasty.”
“You made it all up?”
Sandra shrugged.
“Why are you doing this for Shelley? I mean...”
“She's my friend”, Sandra said.
Steven took a deep breath. “Awwww... You know what? f***k Belinda! Let's forget the computer, okay?”
“Okay”, Sandra said.
“And Michelle stays.”
“Thanks”, Sandra said.
Steven played with his pen. “Carlton Elementary, fourth grade – what a looney bin!” He grinned. “You know that Dan Marco went to Hollywood?”
“No!”
“Yeah! Stuntman. Was in 'M.I. Rogue Nation'. His name's in the credits.”
“You're kidding!”
Steven drew little curls which looked like smoke. “Imagine: to see your name roll on the screen of a eight-hundred plus seat movie theater... Bought the DVD to watch him getting beaten up whenever I feel like it.”
“You sure it's him?”
Steven slashed across the little curls. “Yeah. Who else has got such an ugly mug?”
“I'd rather appear in the credits of 'Amelie'”, Sandra said.
Steven put away the pen. “You thought about what I said? About marrying me?”
“Yep”, Sandra said.
“You won't, right?”
“Right”, Sandra said.
****
Shelley stood in front of the mirror while Sandra blocked the door of the girls' restroom so Shelley could concentrate on restoring her make-up before she went home.
“Why didn't you just pull the plug?”
Shelley aimed the sharp end of a mascara pen at her eye. “Which plug? There were so many plugs and cables. Like spaghetti.” She aimed again.
Sandra walked to Shelley, took away the pen and and began to work on Shelley's eyes. “So you thought why not shut down the whole place...”
Shelley stared at the ceiling to make her eyes a better target. “You sure it was me? I mean...”
“Who else? Invaders from space? Who waited to make their final move until you destroyed your PC?”
Shelley tried to look at the ceiling and check progress on her eyes in the mirror at the same time. “Really? Harriet said it was somebody she knows and who should be locked up and the key thrown away...”
“She was talking about...” Sandra bit her lip. “Okay. Forget it.” She stepped back.
Shelley ran a finger along her lid to tweak Sandra's work towards perfection. “We'll have to start all over again.”
“What are you talking about?? You're looking really good...”
Shelley raked the make-up stuff into her handbag. “I mean the dating pitch. You already found something to match with 'Hot pussycat wants to play with big'?”
“If you ever get near Mister Full Frontal or Lap-It-Up Cora again I'll lock you up and throw the key away.”
“You've something important to do tonight? I mean I could come over and we can see if we...”
“Yeah, actually I have...” Sandra didn't know what but she was sure she had because the alternative would be to hype up Shelley's 'hot pussycat' approach.
“Oh. What?”
Sandra was thinking fast. “Er...”
****
Sandra listened to the rain and pulled the bathrobe around her. She put a cushion on her tummy. What a day, she thought. She leaned back on the sofa.
“I mean... a loaf of bread has more brains than her”, the cat said.
“You're disgusting!” Sandra already regretted having told the cat about the cut cables. And Mister Full Frontal. And lap-it-up Cora. And what she had told Shelley.
“I mean to really believe you had to get rid of the space invaders before she could come over...” The cat shook its head. “How can a good looking girl like you, intelligent, hard working and – at the same time – warm and emotional, and sexy...”
“Okay, okay. I got it.” Sandra got up from the sofa, walked to the kitchen, fetched a can of the cat's favorite food, opened it and emptied it into the bowl with 'Safron' written on it. She watched while the cat tried to break the world record for 'fastest disappearance of cat food'.
Sandra raised an eyebrow. “Good looking? Sexy?”
The cat stopped eating for second. “MmbWhat?”
Sandra sighed. “Forget it.” She walked back to the living room and to the very comfortable sofa which somehow seemed to be waiting for her, wanting her to lie down on it. With another sigh she did.
The cat came from the kitchen, licking it's nose. It stopped short, ears twitching, the tail curled into a question mark, then sticking up like an antenna tuned to trouble.
“What's wrong?” Sandra saw the cat vanish under the sofa, a furry flash of lightning. “Hey! What are you doing under there?”
“I'm not here”, the cat hissed, it's voice coming from the far end. “In case she asks...”
“In case who asks?”
The ding-dong doorbell went off the same second. It wasn't just of the ding-dong type which Sandra hated. It also had a repeating mechanism and always went Ding-Dong – and then again, just in case there was still somebody who hadn't heard it.
Sandra got up again. She definitely had to fine-tune Ding-Dong and briefly considered to do it now – with a sledge hammer. She opened the front door.
There was nobody outside.
She looked left: nothing. She looked right. She looked again.
Shelley stood next to the door, her back to the wall. She carried a heavy bag, her face was covered with a surgical mask, and Sandra only knew it was Shelley because she recognized her Nike sneakers.
“They're all gone?” Shelley whispered.
Sandra involuntarily whispered back. “Who?”
“The space invaders?”
“Er...” Sandra's mind didn't want to go in this direction. “Yes.”
Shelley didn't move. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
Shelley still didn't move. “You looked under the bed?”
Sandra couldn't resist: “Oh my gawd!!!! I didn't!!!!!”
Shelley began to tremble. “Oh my gawd!”
“Come on! I'm joking! No need to worry.” Sandra grabbed the sleeve of Shelley's raincoat and tried to pull her into the flat. Shelley wouldn't budge.
Sandra knew what to do. “Better come in before McIntyre finds out you're here”, she said.
“OH MY GAWD!!” Shelley rushed through the door, banged it shut and leaned against it, hugging the bag as if it was a protection kit against space invaders and McIntyres.
Sandra pointed to the mask. “You can take that off.”
Shelley shook her head. “I missed the flu shot program, so...”
“What are you talking about?”
Shelley leaned forward, whispering: “The space invaders...”
Sandra frowned. “What do you think are space invaders?”
“Those tiny cell things...” Shelley whispered. “That invade one's organism and fill all the space there is and then one dies and...”
Sandra whispered back: “And you think when you lower your voice they won't find you?”
Shelley nodded.
Sandra pulled away the mask and Shelley gasped. “Come on...” She grabbed Shelley's arm and walked to the living room.
Shelley held her breath.
“Stop that!” Sandra shouted.
Shelley shook her head and pointed to the sofa.
“Gawd... I told you it was a joke. There's only the cat under the sofa.”
The cat's voice was muffled. “There's nobody under the sofa!”
Shelley still her breath. Her face was turning red.
“Stop holding your breath! Only the cat, I swear! Look for yourself!”
The cat's voice came from the farthest possible end. “No use to look. I'm invisible.”
Sandra had enough. She bent down and stared into cat's eyes which were glowing in the dark. “No, you're not!”
“Yes I am”, the cat insisted. “If I can't see her, she can't see me.”
“That's not 'invisible'”, Sandra hissed. “That's 'hiding'. Come out. Now!”
“No”, the cat said. “It's safer here.”
“What do you mean – safer?”
“Something's gonna happen, something that'll change our lives. Nothing will be as it was!”
“What's gonna happen?”
“The phone's gonna ring.”
“How would you know...”
The phone rang.
Shelley inhaled with a sucking, wheezing sound, unable to live without air any longer. “I take it!” she dropped the bag and picked up Sandra's mobile from the table. “It's for me!”
“Hey!! Why should somebody call you on my phone?”
Shelley was no longer troubled by space invaders. “'Cause I gave them your number...”
Sandra gaped. “Them??”
“You said I mustn't give the guys MY number, so I gave them yours.” Shelley took the call. “Hi!! Yeah, it's me.”
Sandra had to sit down. She buried her face in her hands.
Shelley had left planet earth. She was floating in space, communicating with a higher being. “You like it? I wasn't sure about the 'Hot pussycat' opening line...” She listened to the higher being who apparently had a question. “Opening line? It means: it's the only line.”
The cat came from under the sofa. “Hot what? Pussycat??” The cat began to laugh.
“You think so?” Shelley toyed with a ball pen. “I like yours, too. 'Bad Boy' – that's so... you know...”
“Hot pussycat and Bad boy?” The cat was shaking with laughter. “What sort of offspring they expect? Hot, bad and brainless??”
Sandra stopped her ears but it didn't really help to blank out the cat or Shelley's part of the call.
“I like your profile shot. No it's not too... it shows all a girl wants to see.”
The cat gasped for air. “His ass? How did he manage to selfie his ass? Sat on the mobile??”
Sandra pulled a pillow over her head and enjoyed about a minute of peace and quiet – until Shelley pulled it away. Sandra squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to hang on to the pillow.
Shelley was excited. “I have a date!!”
“All the pieces of true romance fall into place!” The cat wheezed, breathless from laughing. “Moonshine, dinner and two idiots!” Hit by the next fit it rolled on the floor.
Sandra let go of the pillow. “How can you date a total stranger?? How can you tell he's okay???”
Shelley hugged the pillow. “He loved my bathing suit.”
“At least his eyes are alright...” Sandra remembered Shelley's profile shot. And also remembered her difficulties to see – even with glasses - that there was, besides Shelley's body, in the picture a microscopic piece of cloth attached to a string.
Shelley clapped her hands. “You know what? Let's check the mail!”
“Mail?”
Shelley grabbed the heavy bag and emptied it on the floor. “I printed all I got so we can split it.” She gave one sheet to Sandra. “That's yours.”
“Mine??” Sandra looked at the sheet which hang limp from her fingers.
“It's a reply to your bottle-message-thing.”
Sandra still had difficulties to understand what was happening. “You sent the pitches?? I thought you cut the cables!! They weren't supposed to go online!!”
“A miracle!” Shelley said.
“And all the rest is... hot-pussycat feedback?”
“Isn't it amazing??”
Sandra held up the lonely printout. “You sure you don't want that also?”
“Awww...” Shelley sat down on floor, right beside the heap of mail. “I don't know. It sounds so...”
Sandra put on her glasses. She read the printout. “Sounds nice.”
“Sounds so...” Shelley was going through her limited vocabulary.
Sandra read it again. “Nice and sweet!”
“So feminine...” Shelley said.
“Like a girl? Come on!”
Shelley shook her head. “No – feminine.”
Sandra frowned. “You know what 'feminine' means?”
“Sure. It's a guy who likes to dress in girl's clothes.”
Sandra rolled her eyes. She read the printout again. “He wants to see me.”
“Hey!! You have a date, too!” Shelley hugged Sandra.
Sandra smiled. “See a guy who wants to wear my dresses? You think that's a good idea?”
Shelley considered this. “Weeeell... maybe he's got a few nice dresses, too. So you could swap, you know. Wouldn't that be fun?”
The cat began to laugh again. “Especially when it comes to fit his shoulders into your dress...”
Sandra glared at the cat and the cat tried not to laugh.
“What's he saying about the date?”
“Says he's a regular at Mike's coffee shop.” Sandra was still staring at the cat which was fighting back the laughter, close to exploding. “He'll be there every day around 2 PM. And would love if I'd come around for a chat and a coffee. And he writes he's so excited to meet another...” Sandra turned the sheet around – it was blank. “Another what? And there's no picture.”
“That was when the printer stopped”
“It stopped? Why? Just like that?”
Shelley shrugged. “It said 'I – N – K'.”
Sandra sighed.
“What's his name?”
“Rickie”, Sandra said.
Shelley licked her lips which was a sign of hard thinking. “But... how would you know each other? I mean...”
“That's easy!” The cat blurted. “It'll be the only guy wearing a dress!”
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