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Project Produce(26)

By:Kari Lee Harmon


“Yes. I mean no. Look, I’m not staring in anyone’s window. I’m staring at a bush.”

“A bush. So now you think a bush followed you?”

“Of course not.”

“Uh-huh.” Snap, chew, snap.

“The person who followed me is hiding in the bush. I saw it move.”

“Sure you did. So tell me, when you look through your magic glasses, crystal ball, or whatever the heck you’re using, what does this person look like?”

“Look, I’m not crazy. I’ll tell you what I see.” I focused my binoculars on a gap in the bush. “Holy cow, I see Cat Woman.” I pressed my lips together and smacked myself in the forehead.

Note to self: Shut up!

“Cat Woman?” The snapping, chewing, and paper rustling stopped. Just the steady hum of background noise filled the line.

“Obviously, she’s not Cat Woman. I mean that would be silly. The woman just resembles her,” I squinted, “since she’s dressed all in black, and um, dancing around on the balls of her black boots, and well, karate chopping the branches....” I sighed. “You don’t have to say it. I sound stupid, don’t I?”

“Uh-huh.” Snap, pop. Papers rustled again, and then whack went what had to be a stapler.

“You’re not going to send someone, are you?”

“Now, you see, you do have ESP.”

“Wait! I’m serious. What if I get mugged, or worse? You haven’t caught the Midnight Molester yet, have you?”

The officer sighed. “A car is in the area. He’ll be notified of the Cat Attack. But you be sure and call if The Penguin or The Joker show up. I’ll send out a Bat signal straight away. You have a nice day, now.”

Clunk. Dial tone.

“That went well.” I hung up the phone. At least it wasn’t Flasher Freak. Oh, God, Flasher Freak. Maybe the woman needed help. Maybe he had pulled her into the bush. Who knew when the patrol car would swing by? Somehow, I didn’t think they would make a ‘Cat Attack’ a priority. I had to do something, didn’t I? I might be a coward when it came to standing up to my parents, but even I couldn’t sit back and watch some innocent woman get attacked.

I went to the kitchen and slipped on my coat, grabbing my backpack for good measure. Filled with at least four books, it weighed enough to be used as a weapon if I needed it. God, please don’t let me need it.

When I walked out the apartment door, the bush stopped moving. Picking up the pace, I crossed the street. He had her. My heart thundered in my chest, and adrenaline surged through my veins, spurring me on.

“Hold on, I’m coming,” I said, then parted the bush and poked my head inside at the same time Cat Woman started to climb out. Our heads thunked together, and stars danced in front of my eyes. “Ow.” I touched my forehead.

“Man. What are you doing?” Cat Woman rubbed the top of her head.

“Saving you.”

“From what?”

“From...,” I glanced into the empty bush, “nothing, apparently.” Frowning, I asked, “What were you doing in there, anyway?”

The woman straightened to her full height. “I was looking for my cat.”

“Your cat?” I tried not to laugh. “Okay. Well, did you see anyone suspicious? Someone’s been following me.” I looked her over. “Hey, wait a minute, you aren’t the one who’s been following me, are you?” I gripped my backpack tighter and held it up.

Cat Woman eyed it warily. “Get real. I just wanted to find my cat, okay?” Cat Woman flipped her long brown braid over her shoulder.

“Whatever you say.” What a strange place. Not at all like I had expected. Then I noticed Cat Woman stood taller than me. I didn’t see that too often. Deciding she looked safe enough in spite of her black-on-black attire, I lowered my backpack and held out my hand.

She assessed me and shook my hand until my fingers lost all feeling.

“Wow, that’s one heck of a grip you got there,” I croaked, pulling my hand away, minus its mitten, and shaking feeling back into my fingers.

“Sorry,” Cat Woman answered, then handed the mitten to me with a sheepish smile.

“I’m Callie, and you are?”

“Busted, uh, Busty.” The woman gave me a goofy smile and added, “Nickname.” Her pocket started talking. She jammed her hand inside and muffled the sound, acting like it hadn’t happened. I let it go but could’ve sworn I heard, “Brat.”

“Well, Busty, nice meeting you. I hope you find your cat. Sorry about your head. I seem to be a bit paranoid lately.”

“Don’t sweat it. And hey, be careful, okay?” Busty, who really was busty--lucky woman--gave me a quick wave, did a few stretches, and then sprinted around the corner without another word about her cat.