Michelle opened her hands and between them a bubble began to form. It grew and grew, and then she let it fly toward the gorilla—expanding as it went. By the time it reached him, Michelle was thin and the ape was encased in an enormous bubble.
“Pretty kewl, Mom,” Adesina said admiringly. Even Michelle was pleased with herself.
“Why would he turn into an ape?” Michelle asked. She understood Creighton changing form for his detective work, and maybe even for other reasons, but becoming a giant ape? “He could have turned into anything!”
“Uhm, I think it was this movie we were watching last night,” Adesina said. There was a guilty tone in her voice. “It was Mighty Joe Young. It’s this black-and-white movie about a big ape. Pretty much that ape.” She nodded toward Creighton as she began to drift down.
“You hate black-and-white movies,” Michelle said. Michelle wasn’t too crazy about them either, except for Casablanca. Or the Marx Brothers because … funny. Or anything with Katharine Hepburn. Michelle liked the cut of her jib.
The ape looked at the bubble and gave an angry roar. He beat his fists on the ground, then roared again, the whites of his eyes showing. He threw a punch at the inside of the bubble, but his hand bounced back. This time, he cried dolefully.
“Did he hurt himself?” asked Adesina.
“Nah, I made it all rubbery like the ones I made for you when you were little. You know, when you were a child, just last year. When you weren’t all … like this.”
The ape took an experimental step forward, and the bubble rolled as he did so. He gave another sad wail.
“I feel really sorry for Mr. Creighton,” Adesina said.
“Don’t let anyone hear you saying his name,” Michelle said sotto voce. “Maybe we should call him something else.”
“How about Mighty Joe Young?” Adesina suggested.
“That’s a mouthful, maybe just ‘Joe’?”
“Believe me, that’ll get hella boring in a hurry,” Adesina replied, as she lowered Michelle to the ground. “But Joe is okay. What are we going to do about him?”
The bubble wobbled as Joe staggered forward then flopped on his face. A mournful groan followed.
“We should get a hamster, Mom,” Adesina said, veering off into a non sequitur as she let go of her mother’s waist. “You could make it the happiest hamster ever. Think of all the bubbles you could do for it. I wonder if Joe will remember his awesome time in the bubble. Look, he’s so cute.” Joe was on his back with all four feet in the air like an infant. It wasn’t the most elegant of positions for a giant ape to find himself in.
Joe rolled onto his belly and then climbed to his feet. He ran forward a little and the bubble tumbled with him. He rolled toward the looky-loos on the south side of East Houston and North St. Mary’s. Now that Joe was in a bubble, they didn’t run off like the group on the north side had. Instead, some of them climbed onto the police cruisers to get a better angle.
“You aren’t helping things,” Officer Reyes said to Michelle. “How am I supposed to call this in? ‘Giant ape in bubble heading for the Alamo’?” He pointed at Joe, who was now on all fours weaving his way east.
“He’s heading for the Alamo?” said Michelle with dismay. “Why did it have to be the Alamo? Of course, it’s the Alamo. Because that’s just perfect. And why don’t you have someone else call it in? There’s a nice-looking officer over there, why not ask him? Or any of these other police officers. Oh, never mind, they just started chasing Joe. Though he is moving pretty slow.”
The police had surrounded Joe, but seemed baffled as to what to do next. “Can’t have pretty boy call it in. He’s a moron,” Reyes replied with resignation. “But he’s the brother of the chief’s sister-in-law. And he’s a pain in the ass.”
“But cute,” Adesina interjected. Her wings fluttered. “I mean, not hella cute. But cute in that older-brother-of-your-best-friend-who-you’ve-had-a-secret-crush-on-since-you-were-eight way, but you now realize is a complete doofus.”
Michelle and Officer Reyes turned and stared at Adesina. She shrugged. “I’m just sayin’.…”
Joe had slowly rolled halfway to Navarro with the cops providing escort.
“Well, what are you going to do with the giant ape in a bubble?” he asked Michelle. Then he looked up at Adesina, who had floated up into the air again. “Aren’t you supposed to be having a visit with these nice EMS girls?”
“I’m okay,” Adesina replied. She did a loop in the air.
Reyes put his hands on his hips and frowned at Adesina. “I think you should see the EMS girls anyway. After all, they’ve come all this way.”
“Nope. Nope. Nope. Not gonna do it.” Adesina fluttered her wings and rose a few more feet into the air. “That’s soooooooo not going to be a thing. Mom, tell him. There are bigger things that you need to be dealing with right now, Officer Reyes. Mom, you gotta go stop Joe.”
“The ape has a name?” Reyes asked. “Exactly what do you know about this monkey, Bubbles?”
“I suppose I should go after him,” Michelle said with a sigh. And she deliberately didn’t answer Reyes. What he didn’t know and all that. Just then, the rest of the Mob, LoriAnne Broom, Vicky, and Kimmie Coldwater came out of the hotel. Michelle noticed that some of the looky-loos on the south side of the street had started following Joe.
“Are you okay?” Kimmie asked Adesina. “We saw the whole thing from the lobby. Mr. Ruttiger wouldn’t let us come out.” She cast a baleful eye at Robin, but then Segway gave her arm a pat and she relaxed.
“It burns pretty bad,” Adesina replied, floating back to the street. “I’m good, but it ruined my best pants! Totes suckage.”
Yerodin ghosted to Adesina, then turned corporeal and gave her a fierce hug. Michelle heard Ghost whisper, “I can kill her for you. The red-haired lady with the gun. It would be easy. She’s in that car.”
Adesina hugged her back and said, “No killing. Wally talked to you about the killing.”
Ghost released Adesina and gave an annoyed shrug, but then she grabbed Adesina’s hand. Joe was almost to Navarro and wasn’t staggering as much. Occasionally, he’d turn and roar at the police or the looky-loos.
“I guess I should go deal with the gorilla.” Michelle began to jog down East Houston after Joe. How was she going to get Joe to change back into Creighton? She doubted he could be reasoned with in his current condition. There was also the issue of the fat. As in not having as much as she wanted given the situation. She’d only had Wally knock her around some. And that only got her so much because he got all weirded out about it. He always said something about hitting girls. Even though he knew she could hit back.
As Michelle caught up to the looky-loos, Joe put on a sudden burst of speed. A cry went up from everyone and they started running faster, too. Michelle was glad of her commitment to being in shape. It helped her no matter what size she was and she was getting pretty skinny now.
“Don’t be idiots,” she yelled as she ran by the looky-loos. “Go the other way. Don’t go toward the giant ape. That’s, like, Survival 101. Run away from the danger. Sheesh.”
The looky-loos stopped and stared at her as she sped by.
“Oh, never thought of that,” said one of the looky-loos sarcastically. He was a tall, beefy guy with a military-style haircut and a ruddy complexion. “You know,” he said as he lifted his phone up and began running after her while recording, “I’ve always wanted to meet you.”
“You’re an idiot!” Michelle snapped. She could hear the padding of feet on pavement behind her. Goddamn civilians.
“Now that’s no way to talk to a fan,” he replied.
“Trying to catch a giant ape here,” she said.
“Oh, don’t mind me.” He was having trouble catching his breath.
“You know, you are not helping,” Michelle said as she released a bubble. It was baseball-sized, rubbery, and heavy. It caught him in the chest. His phone flew out of his hand and landed on the pavement with a
satisfying crunch. A BB-sized bubble shattered it. He landed with an “oof” and reflexively grabbed the bubble. “Hey!” he complained. “That’s a new phone! You’re paying for it!”
“Okeydokey,” she replied, running backward. Then she pivoted and began running toward the Alamo again. Joe was outrunning the police now, and Michelle was gaining on them. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that more of the looky-loos had broken off from the group and were heading back toward the Gunter. The rest were tenaciously following her. And still filming. I bet there’s a Chinese Hell for those people. Maybe the Hell of Upside-Down Sinners, she thought. The Chinese have a lot of Hells.
As she passed Presa Street, a group of tourists on Segways rolled off the sidewalk. A little sign hung off each one: National Segway Tours.
“Don’t mind us!” one of them said as she ran by. He sounded giddy. “But this is the most exciting thing we’ve had happen here in a long time.” The Segway tourists gave excited squeals, then leaned forward on their machines.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Michelle said, dumbfounded. “Did you not see the drunken giant ape in a bubble?”
The Segways were speed-controlled and she easily pulled away from them. Joe was a block ahead, almost to Losoya. He’d gotten the knack of running in the bubble and was gallumping along, though unsteadily. Some of God’s Weenies and the jokers were slow moving and Joe caught up with them.
The acrid sour odor of fear floated to Michelle as Joe overtook one of the joker protesters whose body looked like a century plant, arms and legs pointy and jagged. As he ran on the tips of his leaves, she could see the blossom stock rising from the top of his head. Buds began opening, but he didn’t stop running even as they bloomed and began to fall off, leaving a trail of petals behind him like a flower girl.
He bumped off Joe’s bubble, flew a little forward to the left, and smacked into a crying teenage girl from God’s Weenies, who was sent tumbling. “Fucking jokers!” she yelled.
“Language!” Michelle yelled back at her.
The girl sat up and flipped Michelle the bird as she ran by. It was a very un-Christian thing to do.
Joe had a real head of steam going as he passed Losoya. By now, Michelle had caught up with the police, who looked pissed. She realized she couldn’t get to Joe before he got to the Alamo. And it being Saturday, the Alamo would be overrun with tourists.
“Joe!” Michelle yelled loud as she could. “Joe, stop!”
And much to her surprise, he did.
He looked around, cocking his head to one side like a dog.
“Joe!” Michelle was a half a block away from him now. “Joe!” she yelled again. “Joe!” She stopped running. The police stopped with her.
“What should we do?” one of the officers asked. “What’s that bubble made of? If we shoot at him will it burst? Will our bullets bound off and ricochet? What’s the story?”
“How about we don’t go shooting stuff just yet,” she replied. “He’s in a bubble. He can’t do much right now.”
There was a giggle behind her and then she found herself surrounded by a phalanx of the Segways.
Joe turned and looked at Michelle with a blank expression. It was clear he didn’t recognize her. He started toward her. The Segway tourists rocked back on their vehicles, then there was a chorus of “eep”s, and they spun around and trundled slowly past her. And then, zooming toward her, past the Segway tourists and crowd of looky-loos, was Peter. He glanced with scorn at the tourists on the Segways and said, “Amateurs.”
Michelle fired a bubble off at Joe. It rocked his bubble backward and sat him on his ass.
“Peter! Dammit! What are you doing here?” Michelle asked. Again with the heading into danger. “You do know that if you get hurt, maimed, or killed in any way, your parents are going to be really upset with me. And why do you have your trumpet?”
Peter put the trumpet to his lips and piped a few notes. It caught Joe’s attention. “Just because,” he said with a smile. “Adesina sent me. She has a plan.”
“Is it a cunning plan?” she had to ask. “Fine. I guess I can’t make you leave.” Peter shook his head. “But try to stay out of range of the big gorilla. You know, the one over there.”
Joe began lurching toward the Alamo once more.
Crap, crap, crap, she thought as she sprinted off again.
She hadn’t had enough of a chance to really bulk up. She was model-thin now and her clothes hung on her as if she were doing a runway show.
Fortunately, most of the protesters parted like the Red Sea, pouring the jokers north and God’s Weenies south down Alamo Street. Joe hit the intersection of Alamo Plaza and East Houston Street and caused the passing cars and buses to screech to a halt. The crunching sound of bumpers being hit made Michelle cringe. Oh, the insurance bills, she thought.
Joe continued into the grounds of the Alamo, running headlong into the Cenotaph. He bumped off the bottom part inscribed with:
IN MEMORY OF THE HEROES WHO SACRIFICED THEIR LIVES
AT THE ALAMO, MARCH 6, 1836, IN THE DEFENSE OF TEXAS.
“THEY CHOSE NEVER TO SURRENDER NOR RETREAT; THESE
BRAVE HEARTS, WITH FLAG STILL PROUDLY WAVING,
PERISHED IN THE FLAMES OF IMMORTALITY THAT
THEIR HIGH SACRIFICE MIGHT LEAD TO
THE FOUNDING OF THIS TEXAS.”
Joe was not impressed with the sacrifice of the valiant Alamo heroes. The Cenotaph and its inscription slowed him down not at all. He barreled through the crowd that was milling around the plaza. Tourists shrieked and ran. Some bounced off Joe’s bubble. A couple wearing flip-flops, cargo shorts, and Knicks T-shirts—Michelle assumed they were tourists, no one in their right mind wore a Knicks T-shirt to the Alamo—caught his eye and he rolled after them. They were remarkably nimble given their girth and they beelined it to safety.
“Joe!” she yelled to no effect. I knew this wasn’t going to end well, she thought. Joe was in spitting distance of the Alamo. “You suck, Joe!”
Apparently, Joe was indifferent to his suckage.
She ran down the broad limestone path, using the last of her fat to fire bubbles to nudge people away from Joe. This bubbling was all well and good for the tourists, but it didn’t address the Joe and the Alamo situation. Michelle heard sirens behind her. A police car jumped the curb and came toward her, driving into Alamo Plaza straddling the pavement and broad walkway. And then it slammed into her.
Delicious fat swelled her up. She popped into the air then landed hard on the hood. It wasn’t graceful, but it felt marvelous. Behind the wheel of the patrol car was the police chief’s young relative. Officer Reyes was in the front passenger seat. In the back of the car, Asti, LoriAnne, and Sean were crammed together. They leapt out of the cruiser and ran to the back of the car as the trunk popped open, grabbing instrument cases and pulling out their instruments.
She looked up and saw Adesina flying toward her, carrying Antonia, the band’s drummer. And a block away, the rest of the Mob were running full-out. Ghost rode on Wally’s back. He carried her alto sax in one hand and her tenor sax in the other. Following them was a passel of the band kids and their chaperones from the competition.
“What all the hells is this!” Michelle exclaimed. She glanced back at Joe and saw that he was bouncing off the ancient oak trees in the plaza. The trees trembled and she cursed under her breath. The live oaks were huge and she suspected the Daughters of the Republic of Texas would be less than thrilled if Joe uprooted them.
He lurched suddenly to the east and rolled into the courtyard in front of the Alamo, heading toward the famous façade. There he stopped and stood on his back legs and gave a roar.
Adesina landed in front of Michelle, dropping Antonia gently to the ground. LoriAnne whipped out her drumsticks. Antonia ran to LoriAnne, pulling out her own drumsticks as well. Michelle heard Officer Reyes telling the young police officer driving the cruiser to stay put.
“How many times do I have to say, ‘Run awa
y from danger’?!” Michelle said with dismay to the array of musicians, chaperones, and looky-loos. The looky-loos who were still filming everything. “Ever since he showed up”—she gestured at Joe—“people have been running toward and not away from him.” As more chaperones and kids from the competition swelled into the plaza, she saw many of the kids carried instruments, too. Basilio ran up holding his drumsticks aloft as if he were Enjolras singing, “One Day More” in Les Misérables. He made a beeline to LoriAnne and Antonia. The three of them grabbed trash cans and flipped them over, but not before they pulled out the can liners and neatly tied them up.
What the hell? Michelle thought. Well, at least they’re civic-minded.
Kimmie arrived with Bacho, who managed to get the crowd to part and let him through with his upright bass. He was panting and sweating, but in his normal form and he had an enormous grin on his face. Adesina rose in the air again. Her cobalt wings glistened with an iridescent sheen in the sunlight and her titian hair was lit like a halo.
“Okay guys, this is it,” she said loudly. “Ready?” She held her hands parallel to the ground, then lifted them both up, and brought them down in front of her.
The kids with instruments started playing. Those in the crowd—including the chaperones, parents, and even a couple of looky-loos who were getting into the spirit of things—began singing while looking at their phones.
Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day,
Lull’d by the moonlight have all passed away!
Michelle recognized the song. It was the one Adesina had hummed yesterday. The lyrics were old-fashioned, and had a lovely lilting quality. The crowd of singers continued with the second verse, slowly walking toward the middle of the Plaza.
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