Last guy. He stood at a distance, then reached into his hand and pulled out a Shuriken--a Japanese throwing star. He flipped it like a Frisbee and sent it spinning in her direction. She leapt into the air--very Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon--and the star ended up only skimming the heel of her boot before lodging itself in Superman's plastic chest, just below the S.
Hailey fluttered back to the ground and started after the guy. But he and his buddies had evidently had enough of Karma Kitty. They took off down the aisle, as fast as their ninja legs would carry them.
“Phew,” Hailey said, brushing off her skirt. “That was close.” She turned back to her friend and the Asian guy. They were both staring at her--mouths open, eyes wide, expressions, freaked out beyond belief. She suddenly felt self-conscious. “Uh, you can stop looking at me any time now.”
“Oh. My. God.” Thomas marveled. “I've never seen anything like that in my entire life. They all came at you at once.”
“No they didn't. They came one after another. Just like in those dumb kung fu movies.”
“Maybe to you, Neo, but we mere mortals just watched you take on five guys at one time. You had them all down in five seconds flat.”
“Wow. It sure didn't feel like that.” She rubbed her forehead. “I hope I didn't hurt them too badly.”
“Dude, they're bad guys, remember? You should have killed them.”
“Um, yeah, except there's that whole pesky lifetime in jail/maybe the death penalty thing to consider,” she reminded him. “It's not like we're in a real life comic book here.”
“It certainly feels like it, though.” He looked down at her shoes. “I so need to get a pair of those in my size fed-exed to me for tomorrow. What was that website again?”
The pirate Asian guy cleared his throat. In the excitement, Hailey had forgotten about him. He bowed to her, a deep respectful bow from his waist, then retreated down the aisle, almost as fast as the ninjas had, but in the other direction.
“I wonder why they were after him,” Hailey mused as she watched him go. “Some kind 'ninjas are way cooler than pirates' game?”
“Pirates are way cooler than ninjas, FYI,” Thomas corrected. “But no, I doubt it. Those guys looked really serious. And Hiro looked really scared.”
“Hiro?”
“And you call yourself a comic book writer?” Thomas scolded. “Did you really not recognize Hiro Kim, Japan's premier manga artists? We were talking about him earlier, remember? He does that pirate comic called Shadow Booty Clan.”
“That guy wrote Shadow Booty Clan?” Hailey cried. “That's like the most bestselling comic of all time.”
“Duh. The latest issue even hit the New York Times bestseller list. Which, of course, is unheard of for a comic book.”
“So why would he have a boatload of ninjas chasing Hiro Kim down in the middle of Comic Con?”
“Beats me.”
Hailey suddenly remembered the shuriken the ninja had chucked at her. She walked over to Superman and yanked it out of his stomach. She realized it wasn't a real throwing star at all, but a toy one, made of black plastic. On the back it said BOOTH 4294, MeyioSeraph Agency.
“Weird,” she mused, turning the star around in her hand. “We should just check this out. Maybe it's a clue.”
“Um, hello? You're trying to solve the Case of the Weirdo Ninja Fight now? How about figuring out why you've suddenly morphed into your comic book cat first?”
“We've already solved the cat thing.”
“By attributing them to magic shoes? Oh yeah, you're a regular Nancy Drew.”
“Veronica Mars, actually. So what do you say we go check out the booth?” She glanced at her watch. “Oh wait. Shit. I'm totally late to go meet Collin.”
“Just tell Mr. Hollywood you got stuck battling a herd of ninjas. I'm sure he'll understand.”
Hailey cringed. “No. That's the problem. He won't. In fact, that's exactly the type of thing he just won't understand. The kind of thing I wanted to avoid trying to explain to him ever again. After all, he still hasn't gotten over my alien abduction.”
“What a close minded fool.” Thomas fanned himself.
Hailey gritted her teeth. “I'm serious,” she said. She looked at her watch again. “Crap! I have to get changed. I can't go looking like Karma Kitty.” She kicked off her boots and ran to the bathroom, quickly discarding the costume for street clothes. Her muscles ached and her brain felt like mush. Being a superhero evidently took a lot out of a girl.
She exited the bathroom, bags in hand.
“Wow, that was faster than Superman in a phone booth,” Thomas observed. “Though not half as sexy.” He ran a hand down the Man of Steel's plastic bicep for emphasis.
“Um, yea. So, I'll catch you later. And don't you dare put on the shoes,” Hailey said, calling over her shoulder as she dashed down the aisle.
“Wow. If they looked up selfish friend in the dictionary, they'd find a big fat picture of you.”
“I hope they photographed my good side.”
~~~
It took her a good forty-five minutes to hail a cab outside of Comic Con. By the time she got to the restaurant, she was over an hour late. As her cab pulled up to a red light, she saw Collin, across the intersection, exit the restaurant, hail a cab, and get in.
No! This could not be happening! “Follow that cab!” she cried, in desperation, waving a finger at the vehicle. If only she'd remembered to get his cell phone number when she had the chance.
“What do you think this is, a fuckin' movie?” the Queens born driver asked, taking a precious moment from his very important cell phone convo to address her. “I ain't running a red light for you, baby.”
“Please!” she begged, watching as Collin's cab pulled out into the street.
A man banged on the cab window. “Are you getting out or not?” the driver demanded. “I ain't got all night, you know. Some of us have to make a living.”
Hailey sighed and reluctantly left the cab. She walked into the restaurant and up to the maitre de. He informed her that Collin had been waiting for an hour and finally just left. Sorry, no message. The man gave her a disapproving look.
It's was the ninjas' fault! She wanted to shout at him, but she knew it would do no good.
If only she could find Collin. Explain what had happened.
Explain? A voice inside of her jeered. Explain what? That you turned into your comic book character and fought a platoon of ninjas with your bare hands to save a pirate manga artist from certain death?
Okay, maybe not that. But she could give him some kind of excuse. A rational one. Like, she had been held up at her signing. Or her publisher had scheduled a last minute meeting she just couldn't miss. Something, anything to convince him that she hadn't meant to stand him up.
So you'd lie to him? The inner voice jeered. Is that really the right foot to resume the relationship off of?
It wasn't, of course. In fact, it was pretty close to the reasons they broke up to begin with. But still, what could she do?
She hailed a new cab and instructed him to drop her off at the Comfort Inn in Hell's Kitchen that she and Thomas were staying at. When she arrived, she went straight to his room. He answered the door in bunny footed pajamas. She was just grateful it wasn't vintage women's lingerie like the last time. After all that had happened, she didn't think she could take a 300 pound Vivian Westwood tonight.
“Didn't make it, huh?” he asked sympathetically, ushering her inside the tiny room and closing the door behind them. “Poor dear.”
She flopped on the second bed, a lump forming in her throat. She tried to tell herself that she shouldn't be so disappointed, but she couldn't help it. Seeing Collin again, after all these years, had really made her realize how much she missed having him in her life. And to blow a possible second chance like that? Stupid. Truly stupid. She should have skipped the costumes. Thomas would have understood. And then she'd have gotten to the restaurant early--met him at the door. They would ha
ve wined, dined, talked, maybe even danced. Made up for lost time.
But no. She'd screwed it all up. She wouldn't be surprised if he never wanted to talk to her again.
“I saw him get into a taxi as I was pulling in,” she told Thomas. “He'd waited an hour according to the restaurant guy.” She groaned. “He must think I'm a total bitch.”
“Well, duh. I think that and you've never even stood me up.”
She threw a pillow at him. “You're not helping.”
“Sorry, sweetie. It really sucks, I know.” Thomas said, looking at her with pitying eyes. “You were really looking forward to it, weren't you?”
“More than I wanted to admit,” she said with a sigh. “I really love him still. Seeing him today brought back so many memories.”
“Can you call him? Explain what happened?”
“I don't have his cell number. And I have no clue what hotel he's staying at.” She rolled over onto her side and flipped through one of their comics. “Too bad Karma Kitty didn't have some kind of Super Smell. Then I could just throw on the boots and sniff him out.”
Thomas laughed. “If only you knew you'd need it when you created her. We could have drawn it in. It'd actually be a pretty funny superpower. Would have made perfect sense, too, since all of Karma Kitty powers have to do with cat things. And we all know how good Fifi is at sniffing out the catnip. ”
Sudden inspiration smacked Hailey across the face and she jerked up in bed. “That's it!” she cried, hope surging through her. “That's totally it!”
Thomas gave her a blank look. “Er, what's it?”
“Drawing it in,” she replied. “When I put on the boots, I have all the powers of Karma Kitty, right? And we control what those powers are through the artwork. What if you sketched up a few scenes where Karma Kitty is gifted with the power of Super Smell? That she can sniff out...bad guys or something. Then I'd put on the boots and sniff out Collin. Figure out where he's staying and go apologize.”
“That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say. Maybe the stupidest thing I've ever heard anyone say. And I've heard a lot of stupid things in my life. Like the time George Michael claimed he was--”
“Yeah, well, before tonight you would have said me putting on magic boots, becoming Karma Kitty, and fighting a flock of ninjas was the stupidest thing you ever heard.”
“Touché.” Thomas considered. “But still...”
“Fine. I'll draw it myself then. You'll see.” She grabbed Thomas's sketch book from off his bed and uncapped a pen.
She was no artist, but she did her best, sketching her comic cat sniffing the air. She then slipped on her boots and took her own whiff. Nothing but the same old slightly dirty laundry smell the room had when she first entered. She sighed and kicked them off again.
“Oh well,” she said. “I guess it was a dumb idea.”
Thomas peered over her shoulder at her drawing. He scowled. “Oh my god,” he exclaimed. “Of course that's not going to work. It doesn't even remotely resemble Karma Kitty. No offense.” He huffed with annoyance. “Fine. Give me the pen.”
She handed it over.
“For the record, I still think this is ridiculous,” Thomas muttered as he took the sketchbook from her. “But if it's going to work, it's only going to work when drawn by a genuine Karma Kitty artist like me.”
Or Collin, she thought, wondering if he had taken up drawing again after they had parted ways. It was such a shame when he gave up over those stupid rejections. To give up something he was so good at. Something he loved.
Hailey looked over Thomas's shoulder, watching, until he yelled at her for invading his space. So she retreated to the other bed and flipped on the television. But she couldn't concentrate on the show. She was too impatient to see if this crazy thing would actually work.
“It doesn't have to be perfect,” she reminded him, after what seemed to be an inordinate amount of time to be working on a single sketch. He, of course, shot her a dirty look that told her that it most certainly did. Artists!
She lay back down on the bed and tried to be patient. Tried to focus on what she was going to tell Collin once she found him. Some kind of easy excuse. Something believable that didn't involve pirates or ninjas or her turning into a cat woman. Would he forgive her? Would he be interested in rekindling the relationship? Maybe they'd end up getting married this time. Start a family, even.
Hang on, Hailey. First things first.
“Okay, I'm done,” Thomas announced, breaking her out of her white picket fence dreams.
She practically dove to the other bed. “Let me see.”
He held up the sketchbook out of her reach. “No way, Jose. This piece of garbage is going into the trash the second you're done tracking down Mr. Hollywood. I can't afford to have it end up on DeviantArt or something. My fans would never forgive me.”
“Fine, fine. As long as it works” She rummaged into the costume bag at the foot of the bed and grabbed the boots. “I guess I don't need the rest of the costume,” she decided, yanking on the footwear. “Don't want to freak him out with cat ears and tail. Though maybe I'll wear the skirt. He was totally eyeing it earlier.”
She zipped up the boots again and once again that nauseous, tingly feeling came over her, followed by an overwhelming sense of power.
And...she sniffed...cigarette smoke?
“Thomas Mark Carol, you've been smoking!” she exclaimed, shooting him an accusing look. “You told me you quit.”
Thomas scowled and opened his mouth to give some lame excuse, then his eyes widened as he realized what was happening. “It worked!” he cried, jumping off the bed and clapping his hands together in glee. “Oh my god! You have Super Smell!”
Her eyes widened as she realize he was absolutely right. She could smell the burger and fries the guy was eating in the next room. The stench of urine on the sidewalks outside. The cheesy J-Lo perfume off the desk clerk downstairs. She could smell each and everything with a crystal clarity that was both enticing...and disgusting.
Thomas was back to his sketchbook, drawing furiously. A moment later he looked up. “Okay,” he said, breathless with excitement. “Now shoot hundred dollar bills from your fingers.”
She stared at him. “You're kidding right?”
“Hey, the Super Smell thing worked. Figured it was worth a try.”
“Fine.” She held out her fingers and concentrated. Sadly, not a single penny drizzled out.
Thomas scowled. “Boo.”
“Makes sense though,” she said, lowering her hands. “Karma Kitty has the same powers as a cat, but exaggerated, right? It's not like she can fly or shoot lasers or anything.”
“True. Brutally disappointing, but true.”
“Anyway, Super Smell works. And that's what matters.”
“To you maybe. I would have found the money producing super claws I designed far more useful.”
She rolled her eyes at him and then sniffed again, closing her eyes and concentrating on visualizing Collin. His delicious scent--Jil Sander with a mixture of aftershave--that she used to love breathing in. The smells bombarded her, fast and furious, and at first it was hard to catalog them individually.
Then she caught a whiff of something. Something distinctly Collin like-somewhere to the northeast. “Well, I guess the best thing to do is jump in a cab and stick my nose out the window,” she determined. “After all, midtown Manhattan isn't that big, right?”
Thomas shot her a doubtful look.
She sighed. If only Comic Con had been held in rural Maine. Would have made it a lot easier. “Well, here I go anyway,” she said, rising to her feet. “Wish me luck!”
“Meh, you don't need luck,” Thomas said, giving her a thumb's up.. “You're Karma Kitty!”
She threw him a grin, exiting the room, praying he was right.
Chapter Four
The Comfort Inn's elevator was broken, but Hailey didn't care. She skipped down the steps, practically dancing for joy. This was too cool.
Too, too cool. If only she'd had superpowers back in the day when she and Collin had been together. Maybe she could have kicked some alien abductor ass and made it to the church on time. They'd be married right now. Living happily ever after.
She pushed open the front lobby door and stepped out onto West 46th street. No use dwelling on what might have been. It was time to make the present what it should be.
The nose out the cab window thing turned out to be a lot easier than she thought it'd be and the cab driver didn't even seem that taken aback by his sniffy, indecisive passenger. Guess you got a lot weirder than that as a NYC hack and as long as the meter ran and she didn't, it was all good for him.
Not fifteen minutes later, she asked him to stop in front of The Rock Hotel, right outside of Times Square. Collin's scent was strong here and she was positive this had to be the place. She paid and exited the cab, stuffed sack of Chinese take-out in hand. (The smell had been irresistible to her newly sensitized nose and they had missed dinner, after all.)
Walking straight over to the front desk, Hailey asked for Collin's room number. But the snotty clerk informed her that “due to privacy concerns” he couldn't give out that information to some random girl off the street. After much pleading, he did agree to ring Collin's room, but no one answered. He suggested she come back later.
Hailey knew Collin was in the building. She could smell him clearly now. He was probably just ignoring his calls or in the bathroom or something. So she headed over to the elevator, determined to sniff him out. The doors slid open a moment later, revealing a stiff, uniformed man inside. She stepped into the elevator and the man politely inquired as to what floor she'd like to go to.
“Huh?” she asked, taken aback.
“Which floor?” the man repeated, louder, as if she were foreign and thus more likely to comprehend the English language when it was spoken three decibels higher.