by Hazel Yeats
“Hello!” Mrs. Beldam put an end to Cara’s bizarre monologue with an angry frown, the joining of her wildly untrimmed eyebrows giving her a strange, owl-like expression. “Miss?” she said. “Why don’t you give me the bag, okay? Just hand it to me, and then I will make sure that Ms. Donovan gets it.” She stretched out her hand, but Cara swung the bag out of her reach.
“I’m very sorry,” she said, “but I really…“ She smiled conspiratorially. “The thing is, Ms. Donovan always insists on meeting the person who delivers her pre-performance pizza.”
Cara saw Mrs. Beldam’s doubts about her sanity grow.
“Young lady, you can either leave the bag with me,” she said, “or leave with the bag. It’s up to you, and you have about…” she looked at her watch, “…five seconds to make up your mind.”
From a door at the far end of the store, a woman walked in the room. Cara could only vaguely make out her features, but she could see that she was addressing Mrs. Beldam, who turned to answer her.
Cara couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Mrs. Beldam stuck her finger through the door, pointing to Cara and her bag. This was probably a colleague, who’d been somewhere in the back and had heard them arguing.
The newcomer walked toward the door and stood there for a while, amidst the Bunny book piles and the brightly colored miniature tables and chairs, peering through the window. And the remarkable thing was, from where Cara was standing, she was exactly in line with one of the cardboard cutouts of the face in the window. And there was no mistaking it. The faces were identical. The woman who was staring at her from behind the glass was no shopkeeper—she was, in fact, the wildly popular author herself, Jude Donovan. But although it was obvious that Jude was quite gorgeous, it still wasn’t clear to Cara if she was also the Santa who’d been haunting her. She had simply seen too little of her that day to be able to tell. It made her all the more determined to find out.
Cara saw Jude Donovan’s lips curl up in a smile. She came closer, until she had reached the door. Mrs. Beldam stepped aside. Jude pushed the door open a little further, ducking when she heard the children begin to holler.
“You’d better come in fast,” Jude said. She opened the door wider and Cara, who was beginning to consider that she might be dreaming all this, slipped inside. Mrs. Beldam came rushing forward, locking the door behind her.
Once inside, standing so close to Jude, Cara felt hopelessly shy. She had no idea what to say, having failed to consider what she might do if her plan actually worked.
“This is my assistant,” Jude said to Mrs. Beldam. “Is the suit in the back?”
“I’m your…assistant,” Cara repeated, dumbfounded.
“The suit, right. Come with me,” Mrs. Beldam said to Cara, grabbing her arm.
“The suit?” Cara was too distracted to formally introduce herself. “What is this suit you speak of?”
Jude smiled. “Funny. You’d better get ready, we’re running late.”
Mrs. Beldam looked at Cara as they were walking to the back of the store and shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you simply say who you were? We were actually beginning to wonder whether you’d show up at all. I would have let you in straight away if you hadn’t gone on about your silly delivery. What was that about anyway?”
“The…uh…” Cara said, “…silly delivery, yes.” She inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry about that. It was a joke. But not a very funny one, I see that now.”
Mrs. Beldam opened a door to a tiny hallway that led to a small kitchen on the one, and a narrow, spiral staircase on the other side. She began to walk up the stairs, looking behind her almost constantly to make sure that Cara was still following her. Climbing was a considerable effort for Mrs. Beldam—she was moving slowly, panting a little and leaning heavily on the banister. Once upstairs, Cara took a couple of steps forward, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath her feet. She tried to survey the room, but it was too dark to see much. Mrs. Beldam flipped a switch on the wall and a faint, orange glow from the light bulb that was dangling from the ceiling settled on the cramped space. There was a musty smell, something that Cara couldn’t quite make out—something stale and yet sweet.
“There isn’t that much space to move around,” Mrs. Beldam said. “This is mainly a storage room.”
It was hardly more than a broom closet, Cara thought, with an actual broom, lying on the floor. The room was packed. It was packed with furniture, boxes full of books, more boxes on shelves with unknown contents, toys, balloons, stuffed animals, a year’s supply of coffee and tea. A clothes rack full of kid’s clothing, mostly coats and sweatshirts, was wedged between the slanting ceiling and the wall. Cara assumed that these were garments accidentally left in the store by their owners, but there was no way of knowing for sure. Maybe Mrs. Beldam was one of those old ladies who ate small children. Cara stared at her, at the wrinkled face, the dark clothing, the considerable nose. She almost jumped when Mrs. Beldam picked up the broom from the floor and walked toward her. She swallowed. Was she…flying off? To Cara’s relief, the old woman didn’t actually mount the broom.
“Better get this out of the way,” Mrs. Beldam said, “before someone trips over it.”
Cara was sure of one thing only. She wanted to get out of here. She felt that there was some voodoo ritual in the air that she wanted no part of.
“Look…” she said. “Here’s the thing…”
Mrs. Beldam took something, covered in a plastic wrap, from the top shelf and pushed it into Cara’s arms. Inside the wrapper lay something fluffy, and for a second, Cara was afraid it was someone’s dead pet. She wondered what she was getting herself into. Sure, the famous writer was downstairs. The only thing separating them was a small staircase and a plywood door. But when it came down to it, what did Cara really know about Jude Donovan or any bizarre issues she might have? Things that hadn’t been on her website because there was no page for icky fetishes.
“We had it cleaned like Ms. Donovan asked,” Mrs. Beldam said. “I don’t think it’s been worn for quite some time. But it’s still in good condition. I’ll leave you to it then. Please, hurry.”
She walked down the stairs, leaving Cara alone. Cara didn’t really know what to do but to unwrap the package. She tore off the wrap and something fluffy and white fell to the floor. And then she finally understood what was going on and slapped herself on the forehead. Even as it lay there, she realized what it was. What it had to be. How stupid of her not to get it right away. It was a Bunny suit! She was supposed to put it on and entertain the children! Both Jude and the old lady had mistaken her for the hired rabbit. She burst out laughing, the sound ricocheting off the walls.
“Is everything all right up there?” Mrs. Beldam shouted from the bottom of the stairs.
“Fine,” Cara shouted back. “I’ll be down in just a second.” She shrugged. “Ah, what the hell,” she said to herself. She might as well step up to the plate now that she’d come this far. There was every chance that the real Bunny impersonator would show up, but they would have to deal with that when the time came. She was inside the store, she had access to the beautiful Jude, and who knows what else might happen on this bizarre, adventurous day. So she’d have to entertain a thousand toddlers, so what? She broke out in a sweat and tried to think of something else.
She took off her coat and shoes, opened the zipper on the suit, stepped into the fuzzy white feet, and wrapped the suit around her. She didn’t know whether it was a one-size-fits-all kind of thing, but once she had it on, she realized it was exactly right for her. She was reminded of the day at the mall, and she wondered whether it was somehow Jude’s and her fate to see each other only in costumes that revealed nothing but their eyes and mouths.
The floppy ears were enormous. So were the feet. She considered taking her glasses off, remembering that rabbits were known for their good eyesight on account of all the carrots
they eat. But since there was already every chance she’d fall down the stairs because of the feet, she decided to leave them on, at least for now.
As luck had it, she managed to get down in one piece. She felt ridiculous, but both Mrs. Beldam and Jude were very pleased with what they saw when she presented herself to them. Mrs. Beldam, glad to have at least this worry out of the way, excused herself, remembering that she needed to go up to the attic again to get more copies of Jude’s bestsellers, Bunny Has a Boo-Boo leading the pack. She was obviously counting on making a killing today.
“Look at you, you’re just perfect,” Jude said, once they were alone, “as Bunnies go.” She smiled, looking Cara up and down. “Personally,” she added, “I thought you were more perfect before you had the suit on.”
Was Jude blushing? Cara was feeling even more self-conscious in her lagomorph getup than before. How could she respond to such obvious flirting now that she was a freaking rabbit?”
She looked at Jude and nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Perhaps I should introduce myself.”
“No need.” Jude smiled. “Bunny, right?”
“Uh…right.”
“The agency sent you, right?”
“The…uh…agency,” Cara said.
“You are with the agency?”
“I’m actually more of an…independent Bunny,” Cara said.
She glanced at Jude, who was wearing jeans, boots, and a low-cut black top, that would have been a little too sexy if it hadn’t been set off by a dressy grey jacket. Resting between her collarbones was a large, silver necklace—an intricate design of birds in flight that reminded Cara of the yin and yang symbol. Jude was slightly shorter than Cara, and curvier than her slender form had initially revealed. Her hair was just brushing the tip of her shoulders. It was very straight and almost black. Her hazel eyes rested on Cara with that intense gaze that Cara now realized had also struck her during their brief encounter at the store. Her hands were quite elegant, with long fingers and perfectly groomed nails. There were no rings. She had straight, very white teeth. There was a slight scar on her left temple that only seemed to emphasize the flawlessness of her skin.
It wasn’t that it hit Cara like a ton of bricks, it was more of a slow burning realization - Jude Donovan was definitely the Santa from the store.
“An independent Bunny?”
“Why all the questions?” Cara asked. “You ordered a Bunny, and here I am.” She curtsied again. For old times’ sake.
“The funny thing is,” said Jude with a mocking expression, “that I just got a call from the agency telling me that my ordered Bunny is home in bed with the flu, and that sadly they couldn’t find anybody to replace her at such short notice.”
“The flu, huh?” Cara realized they were getting nowhere. “Bummer.”
“So…” Jude shrugged, “you showing up here is quite the mystery.”
Cara realized it was time for a change of tactics. “Can I be perfectly honest here?”
Jude nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Well,” said Jude, “it wouldn’t have taken me as long to figure it out as it has, if you’d been wearing your shiny badge like any good civil servant must.” She smiled. “But it dawned on me eventually. I recognized your…” she cleared her throat “…features.” She looked at Cara as if she wanted to eat her, one delicious bite at a time. Cara, feeling ridiculous and extremely hot in her costume, writhed uncomfortably. Were there bugs in the suit? But then she remembered that Mrs. Beldam had had it dry cleaned. The itch was her own.
“Right,” she said. “The features.”
Jude grinned. “Don’t tell me you were ordered by the court to deliver me a pizza?”
Cara watched the kids outside pressing their faces against the window. It was close to four now, and they demanded to get what was rightfully theirs. God knows they had waited long enough. Some parents may have actually slept in front of the store that night to make sure their precious offspring would get to meet the great rabbit.
“Don’t they frighten you a little?” Cara said. “In these numbers?”
“They’re fans,” Jude said. “I adore them.”
“I’m not very good with kids myself,” Cara confessed.
“Sure you are,” Jude said. “You have to be. My reputation seems to be in your hands once again, and I urge you not to screw up another one of my gigs. Take some responsibility here. You made your bed, now lie in it.”
“Don’t worry,” Cara said, bowing her head so that her ears flopped forward. “I will do you proud.”
Jude took one of the ears in her hands and let the fur glide through her fingers. Cara couldn’t decide whether the fact that she found this to be highly arousing made her into some sort of pervert. A lot of things were happening today that were confusingly unprecedented.
“You know what the secret is?” Jude said, letting go of the ear. “Take them seriously. Respect them, and they will respond in turn.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I came here in the first place?” Cara said.
“We have little time,” Jude warned her. “The window will only hold them for so long.”
“Okay then,” Cara said. “I’ll get to the point. I wanted to apologize. I’ve been trying to find you to tell you that. I was rude. I was going through some stuff that day, but it was wrong of me to take it out on you.”
That’s okay,” Jude said. “I seem to remember I wasn’t exactly a lady myself.”
Cara shook her head. “You offered to have the stick removed from my ass.”
Jude smiled. “Shame on me.”
“I didn’t know who you were,” Cara said. “That you were this great celebrity, I mean. A great, American celebrity. My sister told me. Her kids are devoted fans. So I came up with a ruse to see you. A cunning and devious plan.”
The children’s voices were sounding louder now that they were catching a glimpse of Bunny. It was beginning to get difficult for the parents to keep them in line.
“This was your cunning and devious plan?” Jude asked, ignoring the outside noise. “Misleading Mrs. Beldam into thinking I ordered a pizza?” She shook her head. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re even worthy of your badge.”
“I didn’t say I was good at it,” Cara said. “Also, there’s no more badge.”
“I see. What happened, did you get a promotion?”
Cara shook her head. “It’s a long story,” she said. It was actually a very short story, but she wasn’t about to discuss the deplorable state of her career with the most successful person she’d ever met.
“So what about the documents I delivered that day?”
Jude shrugged. “What about them?”
Cara didn’t know how to ask what the reason was for her to be summoned by the court without seeming rude and intrusive. And then, did she even want to know? What if it was something that would make the wonderful tingling feeling she was having underneath all that horrible fur disappear?
“You’re wondering why I got them,” Jude said.” She smiled. “What my crime is, as it were.”
Cara nodded. “Actually, yes. But you don’t have to tell me, of course. Not unless you want to.”
“It’s okay,” Jude said. “It’s not a secret. We all get to that point sometimes where murder seems to be the only solution to a problem. I’m sure you’ve been there yourself. I simply acted on instinct. What I hadn’t realized was that it would feel so incredibly good. That it would come so naturally to me. That after that first time, there’s really no going back.”
Cara stared at her in horror and stepped away from her, nearly knocking over a pile of books.
“You’re very easy to fool, aren’t you?” Jude burst out laughing.
Cara wanted to punch her, but she produced an embarrassed smile instead.
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Jude’s face turned grave. “If you must know, there’s a bit of a problem concerning a plagiarism suit. Someone is trying to convince the court that I stole my Bunny stories from him. I’ll spare you the details. It’s not very interesting.”
“I see,” Cara said.
“For the record, it’s all nonsense. This whole affair has been a bit of a nightmare, but I’m sure it will all be over soon.”
Mrs. Beldam came back with the books. “It’s almost time,” she declared solemnly.
“It’s almost time,” Jude repeated. Her words seemed both ominous and soothing, as if their meaning extended far beyond the simple fact that she was ready to meet her fans. “Remember, we’re in this together now.”
“I’m up to the task,” Cara said. “Although I’m not exactly familiar with any Bunny lingo or special features.”
“There are two things you have to remember,” said Jude. “Bunny is prone to socializing with other species, much to the dismay of her bourgeois and irritatingly overprotective parents. And she’s always looking for ways to eat carrot cake.”
“Carrot cake,” Cara said. “Got it.”
“Fans tend to bring carrot cake to readings. Often made by five-year-olds. Soggy. With sprinkles.” Jude smiled. “Bon appetit.”
“Yuk,” said Cara. “I don’t even like carrot cake made by pastry chefs, let alone—“
“Tough luck!” said Jude. “You know what? Come through for me today, and I’ll pay you the going rate and I’ll take you out for coffee when we’re done, okay?”
Cara smiled. “Deal.” Then she frowned. “There’s a going rate?”
“Or maybe drinks, if you prefer that. Your choice.”
“Drinks. I would definitely prefer drinks.”
It seemed to Cara that having drinks would take longer and had a different weight to it. Going for coffee was innocent; going for drinks could be the stepping stone to pretty much anything. She was beginning to get very excited about the way things were developing, but there was just one more thing she needed to get out of the way. If it was inappropriate, so be it.
