While Jordan was upstairs with a tea-sodden lap, Edison was frantically working the remote control and seeing things on the sunglasses monitor upside down. She didn't know if the car was upside down or if something had happened to the camera in the car and it was upside down. Then again it could be another glitch in the glasses. She pushed the little joystick on the remote control to the forward position. Nothing happened. Maybe the car's wheels were stuck.
Edison jumped when she saw the face of Mr. Pip in a gigantic close-up in her glasses. She yelped. His face appeared gargantuan this close-up. It was like sitting in the front row of a 3-D movie. Mr. Pip bared his teeth and hissed, spraying feline spittle all over the camera. A giant cat paw swiped at her. Edison screamed, toppled over backwards in her chair and the remote control skidded across the wooden floor and under the bed. The force of the throw wedged it between the bed post and the wall with the joystick stuck in the 'Go' position.
Meanwhile, upstairs in the studio attic, Jordan was mopping up the tea spill with a crusty paint rag when she heard a loud crash from downstairs that rattled the paint cans and shook the already crumbling plaster.
“I'm okay!” Edison yelled.
The little car was turned upside down on the carpet, its wheels spinning crazily. Mr. Pip crouched in his attack position, eyeing the car from the safety of beneath the drawing table.
Jordan was angry enough to kick Edison in the butt. But since she couldn't kick her friend, she did the next best thing. She threw down the rag, marched across the room and kicked the little car. It flew across the room, smashed into the wall, bounced, rolled over twice and landed on all four wheels. The wheels spun for a second, then dug into the carpet and the car popped a wheelie and took off.
That wouldn't have been so bad except the car was aimed right at Mr. Pip. Mr. Pip's eyes widened in horror and he turned tail and ran.
The car gained on him.
Mr. Pip ran in a circle and jumped over the table.
The car went under the table.
Mr. Pip jumped over the sofa.
The car went under the sofa.
Jordan ran across the room to head the car off.
The car caught up to Mr. Pip and ran over his tail. Mr. Pip howled.
“Run, Mr. Pip, run!” Jordan yelled.
Mr. Pip screeched, dug his claws into the carpet and sprung forward.
The car followed.
Jordan jumped in front of the car. It crashed into her leg. She yelped in pain, grabbed her shin and hopped on one leg in a circle.
Mr. Pip jumped up on the drawing table safely out of reach of the car. The car rammed into the table's legs. Mr. Pip squalled and jumped, shredding Jordan's art work with his claws. Confetti flew in every direction.
“Edison! I'm going to kill you!” Jordan screamed.
A streak of gray fur that was Mr. Pip ran by Jordan with the car in hot pursuit.
“My joystick is stuck!” Edison yelled back. “I'm not responsible!”
Jordan chased the car in circles around the room, cussing with each breath. Every time she almost caught the car, it would either change direction or disappear under the sofa.
Like in an old Tom and Jerry cartoon, Jordan chased the car; the car chased Mr. Pip; the car chased Jordan; Jordan chased Mr. Pip; and Mr. Pip got confused and chased his tail.
Edison ran in circles in her bedroom. She was seeing what the car camera saw: Cat butt; Jordan butt, shredded paper flying, more cat butt, under the sofa, over the rug, Jordan's foot; cat face. She worked frantically to unstick the joystick as she spun herself in circles chasing the car in her monitor. Then she got dizzy and toppled face-first onto her bed.
Back in the attic studio, the melee continued until Jordan officially put an end to it. She hadn't played soccer on her high school team for three years for nothing. She brought her leg back and as the car raced by, let loose with a kick that Mia Hamm would have admired.
The car sailed out the open window.
Goal! Jordan celebrated with fists pumping the air and a dance that involved several exaggerated pelvic thrusts.
She stopped dancing when she heard a whirring noise behind her. She turned around and the car bashed into her toes.
How could that be? She had kicked the car out the window. Hadn’t she? If it wasn't the car she kicked, then what was it?
“Mr. Pip!” she screamed. She ran to the open window and leaned out. “Mr. Pip!”
“Meow!”
Jordan looked up. Mr. Pip was dangling from a tree branch right outside the window. He looked like that inspirational poster from the 1970s. The one with the kitten hanging from a tree limb with the caption “Hang in there, baby.”
Jordan cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Hang in there, baby! I mean, hang in there Mr. Pip! I'll be right there!”
Edison ran into the studio to find Jordan leaning out the window and talking to Mr. Pip. Jordan reached out the window, stretched her arm as far as she could, but her fingertips were about a foot too shy.