When I’m done I push the plate away, and briskly rub my face. “Okay,” I say, trying to assure him I’ll be all right, even if I’m not so sure myself.
“Okay,” he responds relieved. “So are you going to get to work now?”
I nod.
“Good boy.”
I smile at him, and he smiles back when he realizes how that sounded.
He stands to leave. “I’m going to call you later and if I don’t hear progress, I’ll be back,” he warns grinning.
Did my Dad just do a Schwarzenegger-Terminator impression? I can’t help but smile. “Okay. Thanks Dad.”
He pulls me into a hug. “I love you, Son. We’re going to get through this.”
“I believe you, Dad. And I love you too.”
• • •
As I pull open the first drawer in my home office, my internal struggle starts. I close my eyes wincing. I’m just not sure I can do this right now. I open my eyes and briefly look at the neat stack of drawings. Every sketch makes me think of Brooke, and Starbucks cups, Arnold taking B-Girl, and Sketch Republic going on without me. Resisting the urge to flee, I look over to the window and notice my Wonder Woman figurine perched on the nearby shelf. I get up and walk over to her, admiring her majestic stance.
With a sudden impulse, I pick her up and carry her back to my desk area. I pose her on top of the bookcase facing where I’m trying to work. A feeling comes over me.
“Hey, Wonder Woman,” I say in a quiet voice. “I could use a little motivation right about now. Could you help me out?”
I don’t even feel like the freak I am as I study her, waiting patiently for her response. “If you could talk, I bet you would tell me to be strong…wouldn’t you?”
I reach over and tip her head forward like she’s nodding.
“Can you share a little of your super powers with me? And as long as I’m going down crazy lane, can I ask one other thing?”
Her little eyes gaze at me intently.
“Can you look out for Brooke too?”
I don’t even have to nod her head for her, because just then the light from the window shifts and she kind of glows. I might be imagining it, but it gives me comfort nonetheless. She’s going to help show us the way.
I reach into the open drawer with new resolve. My heart may be shattered, and I still fear I may never hold my Brooke again, but I’ve got to prove to myself and Brooke what I’m made of. I’m gonna try to fight for my B-Girl like any superhero would.
I look back at the little heroine and nod. “Okay, Wonder Woman, let’s get this done.”
Animate Me / Chapter Twenty-Seven / Persuasion
“As long as these pants are square and this sponge is bob, I will not let you down!” ~Spongebob Squarepantsxxvi
I’m already awake and have finished my Pop Tarts when Morgan calls.
“Whoa, Nathan…the inmates have taken over the asylum!”
“What do you mean?” Morgan needs to get better at this phone stuff. She keeps freaking me out.
“I’m calling to hear if you knew about the artist uprising at work today?”
I think back to my conversation with Dani and Nick. Oh no. What the hell did they do? “Uprising?” I ask, the fear evident in my voice. “No, what’s going on.”
Morgan sounds completely gleeful. “I just got a call from my friend in accounting. She went in a little early cause her month ends are due, and said there are posters of Arnauld as a monkey all over the building. It’s some kind of pro-creative propaganda statement. Maintenance was trying to take one out of the elevator as she rode upstairs to her floor, but it’s completely glued down.”
Arnold as a monkey? I remember the caricature I had done of him a while back, swinging through the rain forest holding a very small banana. That drawing was in the stack Nick and Dani rescued for me. Fuck…they didn’t…
“Holy shit,” I gasp.
“You don’t know the half of it,” she says excitedly. “Go turn on your computer, and go to the Sketch Republic homepage.”
“The public homepage?” I ask, filled with a twisted combination of thrill and terror.
“Uh huh,” she says smugly. “I’ve got it open on my blackberry. I must say, it’s a fitting tribute to our noble leader.”
I rush into my studio and flip open my laptop. “Okay, it’s on and warming up.” I can sense her impatience over the phone.
“So is the homepage open yet?”
“No, wait a sec.” My fingers fly over the keyboard as I type the web address in my browser. I feel the blood leave my face as the image comes up. It’s my drawing all right, and they’ve added bits of accent colors. The brightest spot is the hot yellow of Monkey Man’s tiny banana. But it’s the copy accompanying the drawing that takes my breath away.
Welcome to Sketch Republic…where they steal ideas from their artists for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy your stay, but watch your back on the way out.
I move my cursor over the screen, but none of the links to shows or promotions work. The perpetrators have frozen out the world for anything but their foreboding message.
“Oh good God, Morgan,” I exclaim. “I can’t believe they did this.”
“Oh, I can. I could feel the angry energy in the building since Monday. And it’s not only because you were so well liked, and he’s trying to fuck you over. It’s that everyone hates him and what he stands for. Monkey Man’s not going to be very happy today.”
I’m horrified but completely awestruck with the sheer brilliance of it. I’m also incredibly honored and inspired that my friends and whoever helped them, did this as a reaction to my downfall.
Dani…clever, clever Dani. Who knew she had hackers, and such ninja skills with perfect timing, up her sleeves? It must have taken a deviously calculating mind to get all those posters up with security cameras apparently everywhere.
“I’m just pulling into the parking structure,” Morgan says. “I’ll send you a photo of one of the posters as soon as I can.”
Over the next few hours my phone is on fire. Images are coming from everyone.
There is even a caricature of B-Girl strangling Monkey Man with her lasso. That one makes me laugh out loud.
But Morgan manages to get my favorite picture: one of Arnold’s office before his arrival. Tiny bananas, real ones…hundreds of them, are lying across every possible surface in his grand office. There’s also a paper adhered to the top of his chair that states, Monkey Man Sits Here, with an arrow pointing down.
Nice. Really nice.
Before lunch I hear more evidence as to how well-planned this was. Evidently poor little Demon Spawn-Alana’s car was somehow blocked at her apartment building by an abandoned junker. So the poor thing was late to work…too late to warn the monkey and prevent him from slipping on that stray peel while entering his banana-clad domain. I’m told that his howl could be heard all the way down to the next floor.
Karma’s a bitch, you asshole. And comic karma, never ends; it just gets more animated.
I’m giddy. The whole drive to the lawyer’s office I grin as my phone buzzes over and over with new messages and jpegs.
My tone gets more serious, though, as I enter the fancy office building and head to the floor that’s completely occupied by Walter’s law firm. Mom and Dad are waiting for me in the reception area, and we’re quickly escorted into his intimidating office suite.
Walter’s all business as we sit down and start our discussion. He eyes the folder I’ve placed on the table. “How did your art search go, Nathan?”
“Well, I found some good stuff that might help.” I open my portfolio folder and pull out drawings I had done of female superheroes over the years. There are even sketches from high school and earlier. I guess I’ve always been obsessed with the idea of heroic women with special powers.
But by far the most compelling works are the drawings I did after seeing young women dressed as Wonder Woman at Comic Con years ago. In the series of sketches, I begin to play with her outfit that clearly shows the beginning of my B-Girl ideas. I put them away so long ago; I didn’t realize how relevant they could be for this case until I unearthed them.