everything sir, thank you for calling,” I say and promptly disconnect the call.
Swiveling around, I find Truong still hovering by my side, and he’s wearing a slight frown on his usually good-natured face.
“What’s up, Truong? Why so glum?”
“I wish my mama would’ve named me Long Cock.”
Oh brother.
The circus at work follows me back to my apartment. I saunter into the living room to find Karsynn dressed as Marie Antoinette in full regalia. “Kars, is this why you skipped work today?”
“Uh-huh. I’ve been busy prepping for my debut as the Queen Consort of France,” she says, tittering in six inched platforms.
“Kars, you look like an albino monkey. And those shoes are a little ridiculous. How can you even walk in them?”
“I can and I will,” she says adamantly. “You know how short I am, and I refuse to live my life as a Hobbit. Anyway, c’mon! Let’s storm the Bastille!” she roars, pumped up and ready to party.
I flop onto the sofa. “I’m staying in tonight.”
“Don’t be such a bore Maddy. What are your plans?”
“Nothing much really. Mika is coming over and he’s bringing a movie.”
“Well don’t wait up for me.” She whips out an elaborate lacy fan and begins vigorously fanning her face. “I am going to evoke another French Revolution.”
I raise my eyes to the ceiling. “Kars, the French Revolution is what led to Marie Antoinette’s death. Her people convicted her of treason, sent her to the guillotine and sliced off her head.”
“Mon Dieu,” she gasps in horror. “Zut alors.”
Knock! Knock!
“Sacré bleu. That must be my Dauphin.” Swishing her train across the room, she makes her royal exit. “Au revoir les enfants. Bisous. J’adore. I’m here, my darling Dauphin,” she tinkles. “Marie Antoinette la Dauphine de France.”
Hours later, the doorbell buzzes and I pad to the front door in my worn out bunny slippers which are collectively missing one eye, two ears and a nose. Cracking the door ajar, I catch a whiff of Mika.
I inhale his sweet, intoxicating scent. He smells of soap.
Fresh, crisp and breezy…ocean breezy.
“C’mon in,” I say with a pleasant smile.
He holds up a DVD. “I rented 3:10 to Yuma. Hope that’s okay with you. It’s a western.”
“Good choice!” I exclaim as I’d watch a western over a horror flick any day. “Make yourself at home; I just need to grab some popcorn out of the microwave.”
I dart to the kitchen, and in a hop and a skip, I am back in the living room. I find Mika on the sofa, messing with the controls.
The main menu is on the TV screen and he’s surfing through the options, programming the receiver so the movie plays in Dolby Digital Surround mode.
Oh, he’s such a man.
I ease myself onto the sofa and wedge the bag of popcorn in between us. Next, I cover our feet with a wooly afghan and settle back into the cushions.
“Okay, let’s start the movie,” I say eagerly.
The movie moves at a good pace, and the characters quickly captivate me. Russell Crowe plays the bad guy turned good guy, and like most Westerns, this movie is all about the measure of a man. How far will he go to fight for justice?
Two hours later, the movie ends and the credits roll. I sneak a peek at Mika and suspend my belief for a moment. I imagine the two of us in a dry and dusty desert in some old mid-western town. Somewhere in the distance, I hear the familiar whistling tune that’s played in all the old spaghetti westerns. The sound effect blared right before a showdown—Nah Nah Nah Naaaaaaaaaah NEOW NEOW NEOW.
Or is it Woo Woo Woo Woooooooo WEOW WEOW WEOW?
Anyway, you catch my drift.
“There’s a new sheriff back in town,” I drawl sassily, like I’m the seasoned gunslinger and Mika is the young punk stirring up trouble in my jurisdiction.
Our eyes lock.
There is a minute of silence as we stare each other down.
Our hands hover anxiously by our sides, ready to draw.
I don’t blink and neither does he.
Then all of a sudden, the scene turns Bollywood.
Consumed with raw passion, we throw down our weapons and run to each other. In slow motion.
Our bodies collide and we lock ourselves in a steamy embrace. Our lips mesh in a scalding kiss.
Abruptly, I’m jolted out of my Western-turned-Bollywood flick when I hear Mika ask, “Did you like the movie?”
“Yeah, it was pretty good. Although, I miss watching comedies and not hearing you laugh.”
He chuckles, and of course, no sound is emitted. After a long