Crusader (16 page)

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Authors: Edward Bloor

BOOK: Crusader
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Suzie's hands finally finished flattening my hair. She went away. Kristin finally told me, "Okay. You can open your eyes."

I looked into the mirror. I was pretty much back to my old self. Though my hair did look a little bit better than usual.

We went back out and joined the others at Suzie's desk. She visually examined the four of us. "I want one of you on each team to be the timer. Nina and Kristin, it should probably be you two. Every five minutes you should change your position. People love that! They're watching you stand perfectly still, wondering if you're a mannequin or a real girl, and then suddenly you move! So when the timer sees that five minutes have passed, she moves, and the other model moves with her. You both, very smoothly, change from one pose to another." Suzie demonstrated by assuming a mannequin position. "Like, from this"—she slowly changed from that pose into another one—"to this."

Suzie picked up the posters. "I have Nina and Betty starting out in the window of Slot Number Nine, next to Crescent Electronics. You'll be there for the first hour."

Nina protested, "Wait a minute, I want to be with Kristin."

"No, no. You girls are both Afters. Each pair needs a Before and an After. I have you and Betty together because you both have dark hair and eyes, and other similar features."

"Similar?"

"I have Roberta and her cousin together, too, because, you know, they're related. Kristin and Roberta, I have you in the window of Slot Number Sixty-one, right across from Arcane. Then, after one hour, the two teams will switch locations. Empty stores are on the master key, so each team gets a master key." Suzie handed a key to Betty and one to me. "Okay? It's almost twelve o'clock. High noon. Showtime."

Nobody except Suzie seemed eager to begin, but we all picked up our poster signs and walked to the door. Suzie added, "Let's have fun doing this, girls. I know the customers are going to have a lot of fun watching you."

Nina and Kristin led the way out, in their high heels, with their
AFTER
signs. Betty and I followed with our
BEFORE
signs. When we reached the rotunda, Nina said, "Later," to Kristin and turned left. She and Betty headed off toward Slot #9.

Kristin and I walked up to Slot #61. I used my master key on the sliding-glass door. I pulled it open a foot, and we both slipped into the abandoned store. Once inside, Kristin stepped carefully over the mannequins and climbed up onto the window platform.

I remained staring at the mannequins for a moment. Someone had pushed them off the platform. They were lying stiffly and awkwardly, like they had been murdered here, like they had been struggling the very moment rigor mortis had set in.

Kristin said, "Come on up. Let's get this over with."

I slid the doors closed and stood next to Kristin. I saw that she had leaned her sign up against the glass, so I did the same. Kristin said, "Let's start with one of these." She stood with her right leg and right arm back, her left leg bent slightly, and her left hand on her hip. I mimicked her. No one walked by for a long moment. Kristin whispered to me, "I hate this. Do you hate this?"

"No. What's to hate about it? It's fifty dollars."

"I hate what she did to you."

"What?"

Kristin sighed, a stiff mannequin sigh. "Never mind."

Our first audience member had a familiar face. It was Mrs. Roman. She walked by and recognized me. She stopped and stared, clearly clueless as to what was going on. She tapped on
the Plexiglas, and said very loudly, "Roberta, what are you doing in there? What does this sign mean?"

Kristin spoke out of the side of her mouth, like a ventriloquist. "Don't answer. You're an actress. An actress who's playing a mannequin."

An old couple joined Mrs. Roman at the window. They both carried flyers that explained the "story." They were soon joined by about ten other people, all carrying flyers, all eager to see us in action ... or in inaction. Most of their attention, of course, was on Kristin—on her clothes, and makeup, and hair. A couple of them, though, pointed at me, and at my sign, and laughed.

Mrs. Roman left, but she came right back with Mrs. Weiss. Mrs. Weiss did not look confused. She looked angry. She never even looked up at me. She read my sign. She read Kristin's sign. Then she shook her head and left.

In my pose—head up, eyes straight ahead—I could see directly into Arcane. Karl was at the register, reading. After about ten minutes Hawg and Ironman strolled out and stopped in the middle of the mallway to look at us. Hawg stared intently at Kristin. Ironman seemed to be staring at the floor.

We heard some noise, and then a group of loud teenage boys appeared in front of us. I recognized them right away—the skinny blond kid and the two football guys from last night. They were acting obnoxious, and the blond kid was the worst one. He started showing off for the other two. He had on a blue dress shirt. He started unbuttoning the shirt, stroking his chest, and making sounds like striptease music. The guys with him began laughing, while the older customers all edged away.

Kristin muttered to me, "Do you believe this?"

I said, "Do you want me to go get Uncle Frank?"

"What for?"

"I don't know. To protect us?"

"Don't worry about it."

The three Xavier guys pressed closer. The blond kid positioned himself right in front of Kristin. He stuck his tongue out as far as he could and pressed it against the glass. Then he started moaning.

Kristin said, "Okay, that's it. Time to change positions." Kristin turned slowly and delivered a solid karate kick to the Plexiglas. The window bowed outward and smacked into the blond guy's teeth. He yelled and snapped his head backward, covering his mouth with his hand.

The remaining old people covered their own mouths, as if in sympathy. But Hawg didn't. He laughed, long and loud. He bellowed, "Good kick, Kristin! That's a three-point field goal."

The two other Xavier guys rounded on Hawg and Ironman. It looked like a fight was about to break out. One of them, the driver from last night, was about a foot taller than Hawg. He walked up to him, looked down, and pulled back his fist as if to punch him. Hawg caught him in the stomach with a quick right jab, doubling the guy over. The remaining Xavier guy, the one who had been talking to Nina, took a step toward Hawg, but then he thought better of it and stopped. He took his two wounded comrades by the elbows, and the three of them started backing away. He yelled at Hawg, "You're dead! You know that? You're dead when you try to leave here tonight, fatso."

Hawg answered calmly, "I ain't leavin'. I'm here right now, son. Come and get it."

"You're the one who's gonna get it. Tonight!"

"I'm here right now. Come on and give it to me."

"We know where to find you, cracker boy."

"Yeah, right here. You can find me right here. Right now."

The Xavier guys soon disappeared from our view. Hawg remained standing in his same spot for a while, as if to prove a point. Then he and Ironman walked back into Arcane.

More people stopped to stare at us, but without further incident. After about ten changes in position, Kristin announced, "Okay, that's it. That's one hour."

We climbed back down and exited Slot #61 carefully. We turned left and immediately saw Nina and Betty the Goth coming across the rotunda. Nina was in her stockings. A guy was walking behind her carrying her shoes. Betty was behind him.

Nina looked at Kristin, but neither of them said anything. Betty smiled at me and asked, "How's it going?"

I said, "Okay."

Our time over in Slot #9 was very different. People didn't pay much attention to us there. I guess the novelty of the live modeling had already worn off. Sam walked by once. He stopped to look at us. Kristin muttered, "There he is."

I said, "I know."

At about one-forty-five, we were both surprised to see Nina in front of the window. She rapped on it once and shouted, "Come on. This show is over."

Kristin and I looked at each other. By this time we had no audience at all. Kristin said, "Okay. Let's knock off. We can walk over to the office slowly. My feet are starting to hurt, anyway."

We left our signs in the window, exited Slot #9, and followed Nina and the shoe guy around the corner. Betty was already standing by the wall, right before the glass window of the mall office. She said, "I don't know about this, you guys. We still have ten minutes."

Nina fiddled with her watch. She announced, "Not anymore, we don't. I'm the timer. And my watch says two o'clock. The show's over."

Kristin agreed. "That works for me."

Nina told the guy, "Wait here with the shoes." She walked, in her black stockings, to the office door. The rest of us followed. As I passed him, I said to the guy, "You must be Carlos."

He nodded.

As we trooped through the door, Suzie looked up from her desk and called brightly, "Here they come. My supermodels. How was it?"

Betty answered for us, "It was great. Can I get my money?"

Suzie pointed to four envelopes that she had fanned out on the edge of her desk. "You sure can."

Betty picked hers up, checked it, and started out. For some reason, she said to Nina, "So long, Nina. That was pretty cool."

Nina seemed surprised. She just said, "Yeah," in return.

Betty opened the door and added, "Maybe we'll do it again." She continued out and walked back past the window, toward the food court.

Nina muttered, "Uh, yeah. We'll be doing a lot of stuff together. Right. Like if I ever need to polish my shoes in a hurry, maybe I can use your head."

Suzie laughed. Kristin and I did not. We all picked up our pay envelopes and left.

Carlos was waiting by the mall exit. Nina and Kristin turned right to go with him. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there. Nina decided for me. "Roberta, we need to go get changed. You don't. So you stay here. We're going to my house."

I said, "Okay," and walked to the food court. I peeked around the counter at the Chili Dog to see if Gene was working. But suddenly Betty tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hey, so what did you think of that modeling?"

"It was okay. I don't think I'd like to do it again. How about you?"

"I really liked it." She narrowed her eyes at the Chili Dog. "It sure beats working there."

"Yeah? What? You don't like it there?"

Betty looked at me like I was crazy. "Come on. That place is an armpit. And it's bad karma. You know? I have to serve
people food that is poison for them, all day long, every day. I'll have to pay for that somehow." Betty looked right into my eyes. "Did you mind being a Before?"

"No. Did you?"

"No. Because I don't think I was the Before. I think Nina was, only she didn't know it."

I had to disagree. "I don't know. Nina's a real After, if you ask me."

Betty shook her black hair with conviction. "No. Don't you see? She's only imitating others now. She dresses herself and paints herself to look like others. Like these fake women that she sees on TV. Not like her real self."

"I don't know. Nina works real hard on her looks, all the time."

"Maybe so. But she's never seen
herself
in the mirror. Not once. I guarantee it."

I didn't know what to say to that. I don't like to say
Whatever,
so I muttered, "Maybe you're right."

I headed over to Isabel's Hallmark. Mrs. Weiss saw me coming. I know she did, but she acted like she didn't. I must have stood in front of her at the register for half a minute. Then she finally said, without looking up, "I hope you got paid a lot of money for that stunt, Roberta."

"Fifty dollars."

"Yes? Whose idea was it to put that sign in front of you?"

"Suzie's."

She snorted. "
Humph.
Like I needed to ask."

I said, "Anyway, it was only a show. I was an actress. I was playing a part."

Mrs. Weiss said, "Fine. Do what you want. But be careful about the parts you agree to play. Roberta. You never know when one is going to stick."

***

A strange quiet had settled over the mall, strange at least for a Saturday afternoon. No one came into Arcane; no one even walked by. Karl, Uncle Frank, and I stood by the counter, silent and motionless.

Kristin returned from Nina's at four-fifteen. Her hair was still in the ringlets, but she had removed most of the makeup, and she now wore just jeans and a plain white blouse. Maybe I was imagining it, but she seemed to be avoiding me.

Then Hawg showed up and stood outside SpecialTees, waiting for Ironman. Uncle Frank remarked to me, "Look at this. This is great. When the other loser gets here, we'll have six people to take care of zero customers."

As if to prove him wrong, a family with two teenage girls walked in, followed by some younger boys clutching ten-dollar bills. Soon six of the twelve Arcane experiences were in use, and the time started to pass quickly.

Hawg remained near the front, giving advice to the Head Louse and two pinheads about Mekong Massacre. If he was concerned about that gang of Xavier guys coming back, he certainly didn't act like it. I walked a customer back to Vampire's Feast, and I heard Hawg saying, "Could be trouble tonight. I may have to whomp on some preppy boys."

The Xavier guys never did show up. Hawg did get his trouble, though, in an unlikely form.

Sam arrived at about eight-thirty, looking as mad as I have ever seen him. He stood by the Sony monitor for a minute, staring down the mallway like he was waiting for someone. I said, "Hi, Sam."

He looked right through me, like I was a stranger.

Verna appeared at his side. "Sam, what are you doing here? I told you I would talk to him, and I will."

Sam shook his head, indicating that wasn't good enough. He told her, "So go ahead and talk to him."

Verna warned him, "You keep out of this."

Sam turned toward Hawg's group, but Verna held him by the arm. She spoke with authority. "This is my job. Based on what I hear tonight, it may become the detective's job. But it is not
your
job. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded quickly, like he understood. Then Verna walked over to the group and started talking very low to Hawg. Hawg listened, shaking his head back and forth. I could see his lips moving, saying "No. No."

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