Waiting for a Miracle - Chapter 2

Leona looped her arm around my back. She batted her big, fake cat eyes at me and tried to take a more convincing tone than her first two attempts during our short walk from her apartment to my lab. “Look Duggan, all I’m suggesting is a one-time trade, like a free agent moving to another team for one night—”

It was the same thing she tried every night, and I cut her off. “You’re never going to get a yes out of these lips any more than you will from the big guy himself. Just give up.”

Leona shrugged and leaned against me, the side of her head barely reaching the middle of my upper arm. “Speaking of lips, why are yours hidden?” Leona asked, her ears twitching in excitement. “Are we going out as a team for once?”

I sighed. “Leona, I’m a criminal mastermind. Overlords don’t go out to patrol for loot. We let villains take it for us.”

“You mean villains like me,” Leona shot back.

“I keep trying to show you a better way, dear girl, but you just won’t listen to reason,” I said in a soothing voice. “You’re holding yourself back, not I.

Leona snorted. “Please, I’m just asking for something exciting to do with my only friend in this city—”

“Oh, that reminds me,” I cut in unceremoniously, already familiar with her tired routine. “The reason I’m wearing my costume is that I’m keeping my face hidden from my shrink, one doctor Wallace Cornwall.”

Leona tapped her lower lip in thought. “Should I care who he is?”

“He’s going to help me figure out what to do now that double M has split town.” I halted my explanation as I looked up the stairs to the office at the back of the warehouse, where Wallace stood waiting for us.

He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and back khaki slacks, which is why I hadn’t spotted him until we were right at the bottom of the stairs.

My door was standing wide open, annoying me to no end because I was certain I’d locked it. It had to have been locked, because it has an electronic access panel that I installed myself.

“I was going to pick you up at the same time,” I said. I kept my voice calm, hoping he wouldn’t notice my agitation at having him break into my office.

“I know, but I got bored after dinner and drove over. It took about ten minutes, so I’m amazed I didn’t kill anyone,” Wallace noted with a glib laugh. He looked from me to Leona, and his smile vanished as his mouth fell open.

Leona’s gaze darted to the sidewalk, her pointed ears drooping. Fidgeting, she muttered in a low voice, “Duggan, he’s doing it already.”

I looked from her to Wallace, who was kind of slowly slipping down the stairs. He was leaning on the hand rail, as though he was in shock or awe. I could not tell which.

I had no doubt that he was gaping at the black fur-lined ears on top of Leona’s head. I’ve always thought they had a fox shape to them, but Leona insists her DNA was all cat derived, so I call them cat ears for her sake.

Wallace reached out toward my short friend’s head slowly, almost reverently. His hand stopped just before his fingertip touched her left ear.

“May I?” he whispered.

Leona was almost beside herself with anxiety. She glanced up at me as though she were looking for some kind of confirmation. Shrugging before her gaze drifted back to Wallace, she said,  “Yeah, I guess it’s okay.”

Wallace closed his finger and thumb to pinch the cartilage and flex it back and forth, his expression one of undisguised delight.

“These are incredible,” he muttered after what seemed like an eternity of him fondling her ear. Reaching back a bit further, he curled his fingers to scratch the back of her ear.

Leona’s eyes rolled back in her head and she let loose a purr, causing Wallace to laugh.

Though it made me a tad nervous, Leona was in heaven and so she didn’t take offense like she normally did.

Wallace lowered his hand while his gaze drifted to the long black hair covering the sides of Leona’s head. “Those two are the only pair you have?”

Leona nodded, sweeping her hair back to reveal a patch of short black fur where normal human ears would be. She looked up at me and arched one of her slender black brows, mouthing the words “Is this guy for real?”

“We should go upstairs,” I suggested in a diplomatic way.

Wallace nodded, gesturing toward my open door. “I would have been stuck outside, but amazingly, you and I have the same security code...or, mine is my pin code for my ATM.”

“That’s hardly amazing,” I noted dryly, “as my code is one, two, three, four.”

“Ah, well.” Wallace smiled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “At least we know we’re on the same wavelength. Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I dug around and found your liquor cabinet, so I made some margaritas for our session tonight.”

“Ooh, I like this doctor already,” Leona said. She favored Wallace with a grin. “Drink two and call him in the morning!”

“Drink three if you need it,” Wallace said.

We went through the unfurnished front office into the back room, which I had converted into a sort of large den. Well, I called it my den, but it was really rather spartan. On one wall, I had a stereo in a stained cherry wood entertainment center, a liquor cabinet with a set of cabinet doors made to look like shelves filled with books and a tiny sink and counter top to complete my “wet bar.” The only other furnishings were my recliner, the matching black couch, and a coffee table.

Some of you might wonder why someone with so much money lived in such a spartan environment. Well, as I said, I detest company. In fact, I’d hidden my recliner during my first session on the assumption that I wouldn’t want Wallace to get too comfortable in my home.

Had I shown Wallace my bedroom, that’s an entirely different matter. In there, I’ve got all kinds of oriental rugs surrounding my four poster ‘California King’ bed. The bed has a whole slew of fleece blankets. I like to burrow under them after a long day of plotting mass destruction and chaos.

I’ve got a huge cabinet for all of my clothes, which is sad because aside from a few “fancy clothes,” it was filled with eighteen pairs of jeans in various colors and five grey sweatshirts, all of them blank. When it comes to clothing, I prefer function over formality.

Beside the cabinet is a buffet, which is completely empty. I stole that from the museum as a gift for Leona, and she turned her dainty nose up at it. She thought it would look cheap in her apartment. It hardly made sense to return it, so I’m still at a loss as to what to do with it. It’s not like I got a receipt with it or anything.

On the opposite wall from my bed, a giant white screen is hung for my plasma screen projector to toss a crystal clear, two-hundred-inch picture on. The projector is mounted on the ceiling and has wires running to the side of my bed, where my VCR, DVD player, and movie collection is kept in an antique curio cabinet.

The room is wired for sound like a real theater, with speakers mounted at three foot intervals, and I had custom sound walls installed to ensure that my bedroom met with real theater industry standards. Hey, you might think it’s a bit much, but I swear, Rambone Part Two: First Bone looks and sounds sweet on my bed while I’m—anyway, it’s a sweet setup, and it’s only the tip of the iceberg as far as my luxurious bedroom is concerned.

Yeah I know, my nerd roots are showing. Let’s get back to that bland, yet spacious den of mine, shall we?

It was in this den that I’d held Wallace hostage the night before, and I found a large pitcher sitting on my coffee table. I noted with satisfaction that he had set a mat under the pitcher to keep it from making a ring on the table.

There were three empty glasses with salt already on the rims, and Wallace poured our drinks, handing them out before he settled onto my recliner. I took my usual place, resting on the arm of the sofa, and Leona sat down beside me, getting too close for my liking. Clearing my throat only caused her to lean closer. I gave up, taking a long drink from my glass.

“Wow,” Leona said after tasting her drink. “Not bad! You can fill my prescription any day of the week.”

“I tended bars to pay my way through college.” Wallace smirked, his eyes glazing at what must have been a good memory. “You might say I served as an intern with those bars, since I ended up acting like a counselor for all the regulars. Their tips got bigger whenever I solved a difficult problem for them.”

He sipped his drink and then said, “Tell me something Leona, since you are the guest to Duggan’s session.”

Leona pouted. “I am?”

“Whoops,” I said. “Must have slipped my mind.”

I lied. Of course I lied to her. If I’d explained that I was setting her up with a shrink, she never would have gone in for it.

Before Leona had a chance to be mad at me, Wallace said, “You can’t tell me that you’re ashamed of your rather remarkable traits.”

Leona’s eyes narrowed at me in a fast dirty look. I was going to pay for this later.  She looked at Wallace and took a sip from her drink. “I wasn’t until I came to this god-awful city.”

“Where did you move from?” Wallace asked, already moving into a comforting tone of voice.

“San Francisco,” Leona said. She looked down at her drink, swirling the contents while she pouted. “No one ever made fun of me there, at least, not until I got hurt. Before that, I was teaming with this one guy called Devastator. Together, we robbed banks and tried to get away fast enough to escape the Rocket.”

“That would be the hero with the explosive gas?” Wallace asked with a straight face, a credit to his professionalism.

“That’s him.” Leona was just as serious looking as she nodded. She took a very long drink and made a face as she swallowed too much in one mouthful. “He was a lot faster than his power would imply, but we were usually able to get away.”

Wallace asked, “Something happened?”

Leona’s eyes became glassy, but she blinked rapidly to clear them. “Yeah, something happened. I got hurt, and then I got caught all the time. San Francisco wasn’t cool after that, so I decided to check out the scene here.”

“How did you get hurt?” Wallace asked.

Leona sputtered, “I-I’d rather not—”

“It’s okay; I understand,” Wallace said. “We’ll move on. You got to the city, and then what happened?”

Leona grimaced. “Then someone at the bus stop noticed my ears, and he started making rude comments. All these other people started laughing at me, and that’s mostly how they reacted wherever I went in this city.”

“Why not leave then?” Wallace asked. “Why didn’t you just turn around and leave?”

Looking at me, Leona smiled. “Let’s just say I found one thing in this town worth sticking around for.” She emptied her glass, smiling when Wallace got up and refilled her glass. She emptied half of the second serving before he sat back down.

Leona sheaved a sigh before she went on. “After the second day in the city, I decided to cover my ears with a cap. I wear one every time I go outside, and Duggan made me a set of prosthetic ears so I wouldn’t be treated like a freak. The only reason I took them off tonight was because Duggan said he wanted someone to see my real ears.”

“How did you hide your eyes?” Wallace asked, pointing to her yellow irises with black slitted pupils.

“Oh, these?” Leona giggled. “These are cinematic contacts.” She explained and dug into her hip pocket for her contacts case. “Duggan told me to wear them, so blame him.”

She took out her contacts, revealing her natural crystal blue eyes.

Wallace joked, “It seems like all you’re missing is a tail.”

I just about gagged on my drink. If he could have picked a worse time to hit Leona’s sore spot, I couldn’t have found it. I began to say, “Wallace, maybe—”

Leona was already stiffening beside me, her body tensing for a fight. “That isn’t funny,” she said, her quiet tone still full of barely restrained fury.

The color drained from Wallace’s face as he realized his error. “I meant no offense. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.”

I sighed with relief as Leona relaxed against me. “She had a rough time before she left San Francisco,” I said, watching Leona nod as she drained her second drink. Wallace again refilled it, and she took another long pull from the glass.

I chided, “Hey, slow down.”

Leona smiled at me, her eyes glowing with wicked mirth. “I’ve heard rumors that gay men get straighter as they drink.”

“There isn’t enough liquor in the cabinet,” I said, rolling my eyes as she harrumphed and leaned against my chest. She took another long drink and made another harrumph. “We were talking about you coming to the city,” I reminded her.

This calmed her down and brought her back to the topic. “Oh, well...” She leaned her head back, adopting a thoughtful frown. “After the second week, I was ready to split and head home. I tried teaming up with Duggan right after I met him, but he wasn’t interested in having a sidekick. He didn’t even want me around as a...” She trailed off, giving me a small pleading look.

She whimpered, returning her attention to Wallace. “Any way you look at it, this city had nothing special going for it. I went over to the museum to pick up some loot for a ticket back home. I was planning on slinking back to Devastator...” Again Leona trailed off, taking a small sip from her glass.

Wallace said, “Miracle Man?”

Leona’s face lit up and she giggled. “Yep, Miracle Man. Oh my gawd, I thought I was going to drool on myself when he landed on the roof in front of me. I didn’t think they made boy scouts that old, you know? He was just so...pardon my French, but he’s so fucking wholesome that you feel like you have to corrupt him. I mean, no one can possibly be that nice, right?”

“What made his first contact with you so memorable?” Wallace asked, shifting to pick up his own drink to take the first sip from his glass.

I looked down at mine and realized I hadn’t touched mine in a while, so I took a very long drink.

“He kissed me.” Leona tapped her lip, and then pinched it, like she was reliving the memory. Dropping her hand, she made a face and corrected herself. “Well, I kissed him first. I thought that I could dazzle him and then get away after a short but touching sob story. All I wanted to do was take one little painting to go home, and surely he could understand where I was coming from.”

Leona smirked. “So I laid a real corker of a kiss on him, and then he started kissing me back. He grabbed my butt and pulled me in close, getting me all hot and bothered. And then, just when I thought I was about ready to deliver my tale of woe and misery, he slaps a pair of cuffs on me and flies my skinny butt to jail without so much as a ‘call me.’”

Wallace laughed with her, but he didn’t prod her to go on.

Leona took another sip from her drink, smiling wide. Her whimsical smile could have been from her memories, or from the fact that she was getting drunk fast.

“That’s how our game began. I’d go steal something and rub up on double M every time he showed up. I even got him to play with my tits once, but he still cuffed me and sent me to jail.”

Wallace chortled. “This sounds similar to Duggan’s story, but you actually got to kiss and cuddle with your hero. How long did you last before you tore your way out of jail?”

“I didn’t. I was bailed out after two hours.”

“How?” Wallace asked with genuine surprise.

“Duggan arranged it,” Leona said, giggling. “He got me a really expensive attorney. So that’s how my game worked. I’d steal something, get one man to fondle and then arrest me, and then I got another man to bail me out of jail. Lastly,” she stated with another melodramatic sigh, looking at me, “I found the one man I really wanted, and he’s not even remotely interested in me.”

“Don’t beg dear,” I said. “It’s unbecoming of you.”

Drawing us out of our snit, Wallace said, “All right, both of you are missing the same hero, and I am correct in assuming that both of you are lacking motivations in this game without Miracle Man to play the part of the hero?”

Leona nodded. “Really, what’s the point of stealing something just to steal it? I’ve already got so much money since the big guy left, and I want some kind of challenge to make this worthwhile again. Does that sound crazy?”

“Maybe not,” Wallace began, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “But what I’m going to suggest to the two of you might sound crazy.”

“Wallace, I’m gay,” I said. “There’s no way I’m sleeping with Leona.”

“Uh, ‘kay,” Wallace said. He looked like he wanted to ask me something, but he waved down my comment to avoid following a tangent away from his idea. “Actually, I was going to suggest that you patrol as superheroes for one night, but your idea might actually be easier.”

“Neither idea will be very good. Me? A superhero?” I snorted in contempt. “How daft could you possibly get? I’m the overlord of crime in this city.”

“Neither one of you has motivations to be super villains anymore,” Wallace said, trying to sway me.

“Actually, I never said I was a super villain,” Leona commented. “I’m not even a very good villain, really. I just have these silly ears and that’s about it.”

Wallace held up his hands for silence. “Hear me out, please. Neither of you are ready to retire, but you’ve both lost the reason for playing in the game. Maybe if you try this game from the other side, you might find that you even make a good team—”

“Oh hell no!” Leona shouted, surprising even me. “First off, Duggan won’t want me around. Second, what’s the point in wandering around all night looking to prevent crime? Heck, most nights, I’m the only burglar I see unless I’m trying to heist something really big.”

I emptied my glass, and Wallace filled mine just as quickly as Leona’s without me needing to ask. He acted as though he were our host. I smiled at him, but my face fell when my thoughts came back to Wallace’s improbably solution.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Leona, but I have another reason for not liking the plan. I will explain by way of a question: how many people would you have to kill before you called yourself crazy? Better yet, how many people could any one person kill outside of a war before you’d consider them touched in the noggin?”

“I don’t know...five, I suppose,” Wallace said uncertainly.

I looked from him to Leona’s amazed smile. “You hear that, dear? The good doctor thinks we’re nuts.”

“Five,” Leona said with a small shake of her head. “Wow, I mean, that’s just so...quaint, really. I didn’t think such a level of naivety was possible in this day.”

Wallace looked back and forth between us. He glanced down at his glass and drained it to steel himself. “So...uh, how many people have you killed, Duggan?”

“Ask the police,” I replied flippantly. “I stopped caring about the numbers so much as the variations I could make on the theme of killing all the common morons gruesomely.”

Leona nodded with enthusiastic speed, and Wallace looked at her with a cautious frown. “I thought you said you were a burglar?”

“I try to avoid killing anyone while I’m stealing things,” Leona said. “But sometimes I have to get rid of a guard here and there. You know, to keep things quiet. I’ve also got a list of people who’ve pissed me off, and I’ve got a near perfect photographic memory. Most of the people who had laughed at me at the bus stop that first day are dead now.”

Wallace said, “Most?”

“Yep. See, there was a newborn baby who laughed at me in the station as I was leaving. But I’m still holding off on that one. He isn’t ripe yet.”

“Good lord,” Wallace muttered, rubbing his forehead.

“Then there was my career as a bank robber with Devastator. We sometimes had to shoot our way past the police.” Unaware that Wallace was turning green, Leona continued to ramble. “Actually, come to think of it, all of Devastator’s plans ended with the two of us shooting our way out, even if the police hadn’t arrived yet.”

“So you’ve lost count too?” Wallace asked, sighing when Leona nodded. “I didn’t say this would be easy, but I would still suggest that both of you try this tonight, even if you don’t go out together.”

“I can try,” I said, standing up. “But for the record, I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“Oh, don’t be such a pessimist, Duggan!” Leona slapped the back of my arm as she got up. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

If only she had known.

Just before we left, Wallace added a final request: “Will you try to be good, please?”