Graceful Disaster

Chapter Five

I looked from the crumpled paper in my hand to the two-story office building in front of Kara and I.

“This is like the Taj Mahal of shelters. Do you think Shah Jahan’s dog was buried here?”

My hand promptly wacked Kara in the back of the head. “How do you retain all of that random information?” I poked her forehead to emphasize my point.

She shrugged, “It’s a gift and a curse.”

Spiderman?”

“No. Monk.”

I rolled my eyes and glanced back at the shelter. It was in the middle of an asphalt sea along with two other buildings that housed various companies that probably did important things to help the modern world survive in the chaos that was ensuing. That or it was some boring office building that could have been the set for Office Space.

Kara was inspecting the scuffing on my front bumper while I looked at the trees that surrounded the parking lot. It was creepy how cut-off this section of the business world felt. I had to drive up a road surrounded by trees to emerge in a flat, black “meadow” that had amazing architecture. It felt like I was a girl from a Miyazaki movie. I stared into space for a second. I had to stop watching so many movies, no matter if they deepened a sense of culture in me. I was getting to be like Brody from Mallrats, only I knew movies and not so much about comics.

“Argh!” I sat on the hood of my car and gripped my head. I had just done it again! I referenced a movie! I made a mental note to consciously stop all similes to movies.

“Are you having a monologue moment?” Kara kicked my bumper gently, her hands shoved in her bomber jacket. Her granddad had been a Dubaya-Dubaya Two fighter pilot. He had hinted that he had brought down the Red Baron, but Kara and I knew better. We still pretended to believe him; it was nice to see him smile when we looked so astonished and reverent. The leather was very soft by now and she always wore it, even if it wasn’t that cold out. She loved it.

“Yeah, I’m making a note to not watch so many movies.” My black hair fell into my vision as I tilted my head to view the building form a different angle. I was waiting for it to just melt into a creepy condemned building, so I could escape this uneasy place. The feeling of being watched was almost tangible on my skin; I rolled my shoulders and stood up again.

“Well, do you wanna go into the building or are you gonna admire it, fall in love it, and have me at the wedding?” My eyes narrowed into a glare as I rounded on her, pointing at her with my bandaged hand.

“Don’t push me.” She stared at my hand for a moment before bobbing her head in understanding and looking back at the bumper.

“Uh…I know you told me not to push you, but I think we should either go into the building or into the car.”

An exasperated sigh echoed from me and I could have sworn I had seen the trees move from my breath. It was too damn still around here, where was a storm to make you comfortable when you needed one? “Why is that?”

“I just noticed a bunch of guys hanging around the exit to one of the other buildings and I think it would be imperative to our survival as young twenty something women to get into some kind of shelter…or into something that could be used as a really big weapon.”

The ground crunched as I spun around to face the menacing, testosterone-toting beasts known as “Males”. They were talking loudly a parking lot away. I checked my watch quickly and noted that it was around one in the afternoon. Maybe they were taking a late lunch. Kara pulled me down to hide beside the car, but she peeked over the hood at them—she gave me a play by play.

“…Tons Of Fun is talking to a thinner version of himself—maybe they’re twins. That’d be unfortunate. Shnoogans! They’re leaving! Okay, let’s get into the car. You can be surprised when you walk in tomorrow, I don’t want a specimen to catch my fine ass in this desolate parking lot. “

With another sigh, I stood and pulled my jacket from Kara’s grasp. “Warn me next time before you pull me down, will ya?”

“Holy fish paste, Mer Maid. Look at Hottie McHotPants!”

“Come off it, Wonder Dork. Let’s get out of here.”

Kara grabbed my head and forced me to turn and take in Mr. Hottie McHotPants. For a moment, I was speechless. I couldn’t see his face, but from his behind he was one fine beast. I audibly gasped and swiped at Kara’s hands. “I’m a capable human being!” I shouted. Loud enough for McHotPants to hear. I caught a glance of his face before spinning around and facing the trees. “Is he looking?”

Kara stood on tip-toe and looked over my head. I back-handed her stomach and laughed as she quickly crouched with her hands around her stomach. “Well, not really looking as much as leering per se. His nostrils look flared even from here. Damn, he looks pissed.”

My face scrunched up in embarrassment. “Crap. Crapcrapcrap…Let’s go.”

We piled into the car and locked the doors once we got in. I fixed the rearview mirror and caught the guy in it. I had to see if it was—That was no Hottie McHotPants! That was Arrogant McJerkyPants from yesterday! “Oh my gourd.”

“What? Does he have a torch and pitchfork?” Kara leaned over the back seat and looked.

“That’s the guy I hit yesterday!” I hissed, shoving Kara back in her seat.

“Hot damn! Really? Did you get his name? His number?”

“I. Hit. His. Car. No! I didn’t get his number! Now is the man still spying on us?” Kara surreptitiously looked behind her and her face fell. “What? What!”

There was a knock on the window. “Don’t turn around,” Kara whispered, “That’s when the girls see the murderer holding the bloody knife he used to stab their fellow camp counselors.”

“This isn’t Friday The 13th, but he is probably comparable to Jason.”

Carefully—as I tried to calm my raging heartbeat that was playing my ribs like a xylophone in those old cartoons—I turned around to see the guy I had hit with my car. His middle knuckle was resting on the window, ready to rap it again to get my attention.

“Don’t move. He can’t see us if we don’t move.”
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Big brother's are really annoying. And hypocritical. He yells at me to help my mother while he's looking up songs he wants me to download and burn onto a CD ('cause he's techno-amish and doesn't know the difference between his butt and an mp3 file). Well, you know what? I'm not gonna do it for him. He'll have to take that and smoke it in his hypocritical pipe.

HA! I get the final laugh.

Your humble writer,
Caitlin