47

SOME ADDED COMPLICATIONS.

Bitsie slipped through the window fine and landed on the ground. Now all I had to do was wait.

What if Arnold came back and found him gone? What if Arnold caught him in the house? What if Bitsie just made a run for it and left me there on my own? What would Kathleen do when she saw Bitsie’s nose job? I had a lot of things to think about so I wasn’t bored.

I was so weirded out by all the bad stuff that was going to happen that I barely noticed when a phone started ringing.

It took me a few seconds to realize it was in the room with me somewhere. If I had a phone, I had some options. I started throwing things around like a crazy person, looking for it. Where was it coming from? I stopped panicking and followed the sound.

To my knapsack. I couldn’t believe it.

I scrambled around inside and pulled out—Kathleen’s cell phone! How did that get there?60 I didn’t have time to think. I just answered it.

What kind of idiot am I? I answered it!

Why didn’t I just turn it off? I don’t know. I was on automatic, I guess. Like at home when I answer the phone and say, “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong number. May I take a message?” Who’d leave a message for the wrong number?

I say it without thinking.

Same thing here. I just said, “Hello” and tried to ignore the big heavy footsteps pounding down the hall toward me.

“Telly?!?” It was Nick.

“Ah…yeah. It’s me.”

I could hear Arnold fumbling with the key.

Nick just kept on talking as if the world were a completely normal place to live. “I was in the studio and thought if I phoned Kathleen’s cell I could hear the ring and maybe find it for her—but I guess I’m too late.”

“Un-huh,” I went, not wanting to come right out and lie about anything until I absolutely had to.

I could barely hear Nick over the noise. I didn’t know exactly what was happening in the hall, but I guessed that Bitsie must have seen Arnold with the key and attacked him from behind. Now they were banging and smashing and pounding into the door. Plaster was falling down on my head and that little window was rattling like one of those bean-shakers five-year-olds get to play in music class. I almost felt sorry for Arnold. He must have been terrified. Wouldn’t you be if a furious, beakless Bitsie attacked you?

“What’s all that noise?” Nick asked.

I said, “It’s—uh—Kathleen. She’s doing her exercises.”

Not a bad excuse, considering I just came up with it off the top of my head like that.

Nick seemed to find nothing odd about Kathleen doing that much screaming, grunting and slamming into walls as part of her exercise routine.61 He said, “It’ll probably do her good. Better not disturb her.”

Arnold and Bitsie must have knocked one of the pictures off the wall because there was a major crash right then.

I guess that’s why Nick said, “Unless you think she’s going to hurt herself.”

I said no, no, she’ll be fine, but I didn’t really believe it of course. I didn’t think Kathleen would ever recover from Friday afternoon—especially once she got a load of the new Bitsie.

“Oh, listen, while I have you on the phone, two things …” I couldn’t believe this guy. I spent a month dying to talk to him, but now was the time he chose to chat? “Do you know if Zola managed to get hold of Laird to fix Bitsie up? I’d really like that puppet to be in tip-top shape for Monday’s shoot.”

I concentrated on lying so I wouldn’t throw up. I said, “Oh, that’s all taken care of.”

“Great.” I wished he didn’t fall for stuff so easily. “The other thing,” he said, “is I just checked our e-mails and you have a whole pile of urgent messages from Bess.”

I started to feel like I’d rather just stay there and take my chances with Arnold. I said, “They’re not important. Everything is urgent for her.”

“Oh, good,” he went. “I was worried there for a sec.

They all had subject lines like ‘Don’t do anything stupid!’ and ‘Stay where you are!’ and ‘I’m coming to get you!’ If I hadn’t already heard a few stories about Bess, I probably would have called the cops! Ha-ha!”

Ha-ha. Who was laughing?

“I’ve got to go,” I said. “There’s someone at the door.”

I wasn’t lying.

Bitsie had just walked in.

60 How do you think? Remember Bitsie’s little tussle with Kathleen in the studio? She won – but he knew how to hurt her. He stole her cell phone. Stuck it up his insides and made off with it.

61 Come to think of it, most people who knew Kathleen probably wouldn’t either.

Puppet Wrangler
cover.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c2_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c3_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c4_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c4.5_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c5_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c6_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c7_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c8_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c9_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c10_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c11_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c12_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c13_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c14_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c15_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c16_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c17_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c18_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c19_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c20_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c21_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c22_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c23_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c24_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c25_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c26_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c27_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c28_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c29_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c30_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c31_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c32_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c33_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c34_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c35_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c36_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c37_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c38_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c39_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c40_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c41_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c42_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c43_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c44_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c45_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c46_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c47_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c48_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c49_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c50_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c51_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c52_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c53_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c54_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c55_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c56_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c57_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c58_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c59_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c60_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c61_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c62_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c63_r1.html
Vick_9781554695201_epub_c64_r1.html