by Rose, Rhea
“Do you see my purse?” I asked. He looked around the room and this distracted him long enough for me to get to the backpack and dig out my bag.
Inside I found one of my little cans of magic hairspray. “Here’s my card,” I said. When he turned around to me, I gave him a little zap of the hairspray. I meant to douse his hair; instead I accidentally sprayed him in the eyes!
He was too tall!
Boy, did he scream! And he couldn’t open his eyes. I actually felt kinda sorry for the guy, but hey, this was the man who, only moments ago, was going to take advantage of me and only let me go because I’d promised him he could take advantage of me later.
I had to do some duck and cover because Malcolm was going berserk. He was trying to grab me but couldn’t tell where I was. I saw him listening carefully to hear where I might be, but then his eyes would sting and he’d yell and hit something.
“You stupid effing bitch. I'm gonna kill you.”
“I'm sorry, sorry. I wanted to fix your hair. You look beautiful. Look in a mirror and see what a dude you are.” I should have kept my mouth shut. I was hoping the spell in the spray still worked even though I’d accidentally shot him in the eyes.
It didn’t.
Malcolm felt around for his briefcase and found it. He flipped it open and pulled out the crumpled up cape. It was huge, like the sheet for a king size bed, even bigger. He snapped it open and spun it around expertly, like a toreador's cape.
The spinning, snapping cape made a wonderful sound, like the vibrating wings of a dragonfly dive bombing my ear. It also had its own light show, as if Malcolm was shaking out hundreds of lightning bugs that were trapped in its folds. The cape was mesmerizing as tried to trap me within it. I think he wanted to toss it over me.
All his whirling and swirling with the cape did something to the room because I began to feel ill. I doubled over in agony. I wanted to vomit, but I hadn’t eaten a thing in ages, and all I managed to make was a dry gack in the back of my throat.
The heaves took over.
“What've you done?” But he never answered my question. I felt hot and sweat beaded on my forehead. I hated the way I felt. I doubled over until my nose practically touched the ground. My knees gave out and I collapsed to the floor. My fingers and toes balled up and I knew I was in trouble.
Malcolm had done something nasty to me.
It took awhile to figure out what exactly he’d done, but I knew I was changing, transformed into something hideous. When I realized that I was becoming one of the things I most hated, it was too late for me to scream.
Malcolm had changed me into a spider, but not any spider, a big one, a tarantula and I thought he intended for me to be his pet.
Wrong again.
He made me big to make it easier for him to find me. Malcolm stomped the floor viciously.
“I'm gonna kick your guts out, you crazy witch.”
The only thing to do was leap on to his pant leg and cling like crazy. It was the only safe place for me. All eight of my eyes opened wide as I swung wildly around on the hem of his pants.
*
Much, much later, over coffee and chai tea Emilia told me that while I became a spider, she had her own predicament. According to her, Officer Day started to drive a handcuffed Emilia back to the police station. Emilia sat quietly in the back seat of the police car.
Well, almost quietly.
“Where we going?” she asked.
“To the station – “
“You like being a cop?”
At that precise moment Justine spotted Malcolm stumbling blindly outside of the house where Devon lived. I didn’t know it at the time but even while blinded by the hairspray, Malcolm had managed to find my Gucci and carry it out of the building; apparently he had the money filled purse hanging from his arm. Why he clung to it, I’ll never know. Maybe he thought if I got away he’d find my I.D. and then me.
According to accounts, Justine hadn’t noticed Malcolm right away but when she did she took immediate action. “What the...? Oh, he's gotta be drunk.”
Then, according to Emilia, who concurred with Justine’s assessment of the magician, Malcolm tried to make his way from the house to the curb where his car was parked. He staggered, fumbled, tripped and fell. Justine couldn’t wait to get him to walk a straight line. I didn’t notice Justine or her car, or even remembered that Emilia had been arrested and was nearby.
All through my spider body I felt the vibrations of Malcolm’s stumbles and then of Justine’s police car as she zipped over to us. I heard the door open and I saw eight Justine’s, with game face on, step out of the car and race over to Malcolm for the arrest. I scurried around to the back of his pant leg where I wouldn’t be so obvious.
I didn’t know how Justine felt about large spiders.
“Hold it right there. You're under arrest.” Her voice seemed really loud. I didn’t know if it was my spider hearing or if Justine thought he might be deaf as well as drunk. Malcolm ignored the cop’s first warning and attempted to step around the rather tall and muscle packed officer. I’d seen Devon make the same avoidance mistake back at the Koldwell bank robbery, and I knew we were headed for a tumble. I tried to find a safe spot. Malcolm had his car keys out, and they caught the sunlight and twinkled.
“Hey, lady, I'm blind. What? Is it against the law to feel my way around?”
“You're drunk.”
“That bitch sprayed me with pepper spray.”
“Sir, walk a straight line toward me. Follow the sound of my voice,” she yelled.
“Are you deaf?”
At that point even I heard the click of Justine’s magical handcuffs. I didn’t know what those handcuffs were capable of, being magical and all, maybe they were only an endless supply for a cop whose life consisted of immobilizing folks, but I was sure glad at the moment that I wasn’t Malcolm.
“Hands behind your back. Give me your keys.”
Malcolm made an about face, and I wanted to shout to him that he was headed for disaster, but all I managed to make was a creepy twittering sound.
Meanwhile, Malcolm tripped, lost his balance, pitched sideways over a low cement parking barrier and landed at Justine’s feet. My Gucci purse lay ahead of his bleeding head, as if it were an offering to the gods.
“I am not drunk! Malcolm yelled up, sounding desperate.
With one powerful restraining leap, Justine held him down and cuffed him.
She yanked him to his feet and I scuttled up his pant leg, trying to keep out of Justine’s line of sight. She walked him over to her car, guiding his walk with her voice, opened the door, pushed his head down and shoved him into the back seat beside Emilia, who sat quietly with her hands cuffed behind her back. It looked like Justine was single handedly going to round up all the majors before I even got started. I scuttled up to Malcolm’s shoulder and was pleased to see that my purse still hung from his arm, but before I scuttled out of sight again, Emilia began to scream.
She went straight into panic mode and flailed around the tight space of the backseat then performed contortionist moves that allowed her to somehow bring her cuffed hands down under her legs to the forefront of her body. She grabbed at Malcolm’s jacket partially ripping the sleeve from the its join in an attempt to get rid of me.
In the rear view mirror Justine and I locked eyes, all ten of them, my eight to her two, as she glanced back at Emilia still going berserk beside me.
“Cool it,” Justine said, to Emilia. By now I’d scuttled over to Malcolm’s other shoulder, the one farthest away from Emilia. Then for no good reason that I can think of Malcolm tried to hit me with my own purse and I found myself doing a death defying leap across his back onto Emilia who was trying to speak.
“I hate –“
When I landed on Emi she went crazy.
Her body spasm shook the car as if she’d been tasered and Malcolm began to panic because he couldn’t see what Emilia’s problem was, but I think he’d felt the weight of me crawli
ng on his shoulder. I wanted to jump onto to Justine to get away from these two crazies, but there was a large metal screen between the front and the back seats.
Malcolm sounded like he forced his voice to be calm when he said, “What's the matter with you? Officer? A little help?”
Justine's eyes caught Emilia’s crazy face in the rear view mirror.
“Emilia, you got ants in your pants?”
“A spider! A big effing spider!”
“Oh, that's the bitch that sprayed me!” Malcolm shouted.
Malcolm again stomped his feet in another attempt to squish me.
“Where is she? I'll tear her effing legs off.” By now the entire back seat of Justine’s police car was pure mayhem.
With Malcolm flailing like he’d had a seizure, my purse burst open and when it did Emilia spotted the cans of hairspray from Maisie’s shop. She reached in and pulled one out and let me have it. She doused me full blast with the stuff, all over my hairy eight legged body.
I screamed which came out like a drowning twitter and Emilia really shrieked.
I thought for sure I was done for but the spray transformed me, quickly and before a person could say, WTF, I was sitting in Emilia’s lap with her shrieking right into my nose.
When she opened her eyes and saw me she said, “You're effing heavy. Get off. And careful of the giant spider.”
“Took you long enough!” I replied. I didn’t know what else to say, and I was so relieved to be myself again that I wanted to hug Emilia not fight with her.
“Where’s the spider?” she said to me.
“I’m the spider!” I yelled at her. She looked startled. “I was the spider, but now I’m me,” I said.
Emilia looked stunned.
“Where is she? Give her to me,” Malcolm demanded. I looked for a place to sit far away from him, but there wasn’t much room back there, in fact there was no room. I pushed Emilia toward Malcolm and tried to snuggle up in the farthest corner.
“Cool it back there.” Justine gave us that entire look cops give when they are not going to warn you again.
“Can I sit up there with you?” I asked her. Justine didn’t seem concerned that I’d more or less suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the back of her car.
“You want to be cuffed?” she asked.
I shook my head no.
“Then you stay there.”
I shook my head yes.
Emi leaned over and whispered in my ear. “She’s from the card deck.”
I knew that! Then Justine stared at us in the rear view mirror. Did she hear? Did she know that we knew? Somehow knowing that Justine was a major gave me renewed respect for her. Her magic must be powerful because in my mind she was a real cop, not some bimbo recently released from a deck of cursed tarot cards!
Justine put the car in gear and sped out of there. This was going to be interesting. Was she really going to take us to the police station? I wanted to ask Emilia all these questions, but I didn’t want Justine to listen in, and I had a very strong feeling that Justine was now completely tuned in to the back seat of her police cruiser and knew that we knew her secret, and knew that we too were associated with Maisie’s cursed deck.
To my surprise Justine didn’t go to the station, she chose a scenic route that took her by Maisie’s shop, and lurking outside the shop was good old Devon, looking like his usual street persona.
“It's him. I figured,” she said.
Omg, was she going to stuff him into the back of this car too?
“Him? Who? Figured what?” Emilia asked
Malcolm stared quietly out the window, but I don’t think he saw anything, yet.
Justine's dark eyes filled the rear view.
“Never mind,” she said. Under her breath I heard her mutter, “That damn bank robber.” She pulled a fast U-ie, zipped over the curb, slammed the vehicle into park, jumped out of the car, and went after Devon.
He didn’t notice her until she was nearly upon him.
He dashed into Maisie’s shop. In her excitement to nab him, Justine ran inside.
*
“My sights coming back a little, but I still can't see much,” Malcolm said.
Thank the stars! That’s when I saw my chance and grabbed the canister of spray from the car seat. “I'll be right back,” I told them. I was supper excited! I leaped out of the car. I saw Malcolm and Emilia, both in handcuffs, exchange glances and heard her call out, “Jane, we're cuffed for good without Justine’s key! “We have to go with you,” Emilia called out.”
I left them and headed into the shop. For some reason I thought Devon, Justine and Maisie would be standing around inside, but of course they weren’t. It looked as if the place had never been opened.
I got really cautious and began to creep around with my magic hairspray canister out and ready. On the front counter by the register I saw two tarot cards. I couldn’t tell which ones they were because they were turned with their backs up. I picked them up and held them awkwardly as I juggled my canister, too. I turned one, the Justice card with a picture of a woman holding scales, wearing a blind fold. I held it out in front of me and waved it around, as it if it would make Justine appear before me. I began to wonder if she perhaps was trapped back inside the card.
“Abracadabra, fiddle dee dee,” I said lamely. But of course nothing happened.
From the back room came quiet fits of laughter.
Male laughter.
I moved cautiously in that direction, back again into the tarot room, and who did I see shaking with laughter, but Devon. He sat at the tarot table. He nodded toward the closet bathroom.
“Locked 'er in there for ya, Janey.”
He licked his lips and eyed me hungrily, but he also acknowledged the can of spray. With both hands up in a surrendering gesture, he said, “No hard feelings, baby.”
Hmm, clearly Devon didn’t want to be hit with the spray.
“How do I catch her?” I asked.
“Abracadabra –“
“Very funny. I tried that already.” I took a few more cautious steps toward the bathroom.
“Slip her damn card under the door.”
I wasn’t sure if he was messing with me, or if he was serious.
Just as I was about to slip the card under the door, I heard voices at the backdoor. I recognized Emi and Malcolm’s voices, both still cuffed, they walked in through the back of the shop.
Malcolm hesitated, “Wait!” he said.
Emi said, “What’s up? Can you see now?”
“A little.”
“Well, keep moving,” she said encouragingly. “There’s a bathroom in here. You can rinse out your eyes.”
Malcolm sounded fearful. “But this looks like –“
I opened the backdoor and Emilia pushed him inside the shop. He stumbled in, cuffed hands out in front.
I looked surprised at Emi and Malcolm. “Great work, white belt,” I said.
Emi winked.
Malcolm tried to make an about face but went in the wrong direction. I leaped at him and began waving the justice card. I heard Devon making a snorting laugh and Emi gave him an evil look. “You gotta touch him with his card, Jane,” She told me. I quickly looked at the cards, found the magician’s and tapped Malcolm. He disappeared and his cuffs fell to the floor. “WOOOOHOO,” I hollered and I did a little happy dance and tried to get Emi to dance with me, but she was too cool for that kind of thing.
Still handcuffed, Emilia stepped into the shop and went directly to the bathroom door.
“Justine, the gig is up. You can't escape,” she called into the door. She signaled for me to hold up the justice card. Even better than that, I went over and quickly slipped it under the door.
“No! Stop. If you send her back to the card, I’m stuck with these cuffs. They’re magic and don’t come off unless she takes them off. And she's got my sword in her trunk. We need her keys.”
“How ‘bout I send you back to your card and then your cuffs fall off?” I
suggested.
“You can try,” she said to me and gave me her death game face –Yikes!
“Well, I don’t think Officer Day’s going to do us any favors,” I said, annoyed.
Emilia banged loudly, if somewhat awkwardly on the washroom door.
“Justine, get out here and unlock these cuffs and you can go. Let’s call it a draw.”
A draw! No way. Not if I could help it. The faster I got these majors back in the deck the sooner I got Sia back and my freedom.
There was no response from Justine. In fact there hadn’t been a peep come from that washroom this whole time. I began to think that Devon hadn’t been truthful. Surprise!
“Justine!” I’d never seen Emilia lose her cool, but she was getting frustrated. Then without warning she kicked the locked door open. Nothing, no one. We gaped. Then we turned to Devon. But he looked innocent.
“She was in there!” he insisted. He got up from the table and ran out to the front, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, too.
“How’d she do that?” I asked.
Emilia shrugged. “Ya got me.”
We heard Devon shout out front. We rushed there and the three of us ran around like the stooges looking for dropped money, but through the window we saw Justine. She’d gotten out! Right out of the shop. But it looked like she was coming back. She had the trunk up on her cruiser and she pulled out Emi’s sword, slammed the trunk closed and headed back to the shop. She carried the sword as if it were her own weapon and entered the shop, sword forward.
“Now, if Emilia wants this back, we need to negotiate,” she said. She looked big. She looked powerful and she looked like she meant business. I had no idea what to do, but that didn’t matter because Emilia did an Olympic style front flip toward Justine, reached out and snatched her weapon away, before anyone blinked.
“I'll take that,” she said, somewhere in her spin. The next thing I knew the sword was flying in my direction because Emi tossed it to me, handle first. And I caught it like a pro.
I stared at the sword then at Justine who stared at me. I didn’t want to get shot, but I didn’t have to worry about that because the next thing I knew Emilia stood between me and Justine, holding her wrists out to me, the cuff chain hanging between them.
