Part III
"And the North American Graphics Award for best cover design for Western Women's World goes to..."
Kelly floated to the podium on the mention of her name. Her thank you speech buzzed through a mouth brimming with glittering teeth. The moment of triumph crested and fell on the rolling wave of time. Before she realized it, she had been washed from the spotlight and out into the dark cold streets.
She stepped into a phone booth in front of the Convention Center where the ceremony was held. She dropped a fistful of coins into the slot. She pulled up a fallen spaghetti strap on her little black dress with the slit up the right calf and adjusted the fringed wrap over her shoulders. She flexed her ankles in the black pumps that pinched her feet. "Hello, Mama?" her voice pealed into the receiver. "How are you feeling? Good. I'm fine. Working hard. Just wanted to tell you, I won a NAGA." She raised the shiny trophy with the shape of a flame in a gesture any proud child would show a parent. "Remember that contest I entered? Well, I--" She cut off. Her glee crumbled to dust, like dried petals crushed in her mother's fingers and tossed to the ground. "I see. Sorry to have awakened you, Mama. What's that? Yes, I'll be sure and send you a check just as soon as— Okay. Good--" A sharp click sounded in her ear. "Night," she finished and hung up the phone.
Kelly shrieked to see a man dressed in cowboy getup eyeing her through the glass. A black bandana covered his lower face. He jerked open the folding door and pulled her out. "Kelly, come on. I'll give you a ride." He clamped his suede glove around her hand and dragged her over to a black Porsche with silver-frosted windows purring at the curbside. He opened the passenger door. "Get in."
"What are you doing here?" She looked around nervously. "What if someone sees me with you dressed like a guy about to rob the local five-and-dime?"
"Don't argue with a gift horse." He gently pushed her inside, shut the door, and climbed in on the driver's side. The shoulder belt automatically slid protectively over their torsos. "You might want to buckle your lap belt," he suggested. The rumbling sports car rolled down the street.
She clicked herself in. "Look, I'm real tired and just want to go home, okay?"
"I see you won." He nodded at the trophy in her hand.
"Yeah, I figure I could use this either as a doorstop or a weapon against marauding cattle rustlers." She saw him glimpse at her from under the brim of his black Stetson.
He reached inside his denim jacket to pull out a folded sheaf of papers which he passed to her. He reached up to tap on the overhead light.
She frowned at it. "I've had enough disappointment tonight."
"But you won. How can that be disappointing?" Her glance out the window directed him back to the phone booth. "Who were you talking to on the phone that got you so upset?" he gently probed.
Kelly chewed on her knuckle. "My alcoholic mother is all. Can we not talk about it?"
"All right."
She sat in silence for several blocks. The car stopped at a red light and signaled left. It prowled the streets searching an access to the 9W expressway. Kelly noticed the direction westward. "Where are we going? My place is on the east side."
"I thought we'd check out the location mentioned in your new scene." He reached over to poke the page with the tan suede finger of his work glove.
Kelly strained in the dim light make out the detail. She slapped the paper shut on its fold and handed it to him. "First, it is not my scene. Second," she insisted, "I want you to take me home now," to add, "please," in measure to defuse an intense situation.
"Aw, come on, where's your sense of adventure. I'm curious. Aren't you?"
"No. I'm tired and hungry, and I would simply like to go home if you don't mind." A twinge of anxiety caught like a fine bone in her throat.
"Kelly, I assure you. I have no intention of perpetrating any of those sordid acts on you. I just want to figure out why the elaborate abduction scene. Maybe there's a clue we'll come across."
Kelly cringed at the mention of abduction. "And maybe there's a team of thugs just waiting to pounce on us when we get there. I don't think it's a wise decision." She noticed him taking the exit toward the Cloisters. She shrank back into her seat at the sight of the pitch black streets.
The Porsche whirred around a curve to come to a remote wooded area. The headlights caught onto the cast-iron letters spelling "cemetery" on a great gate. The masked desperado stopped the car and turned off the ignition. "Wanna go in and see the tree?"
"No!" she screamed.
"You sit here then. I'll go look." He slipped the keys on the chain with the miniature flashlight into his pocket, opened the door and got out.
Kelly watched him run into the blackness. She hastily locked the doors and waited. Kelly whistled a tune to stir up the disturbing stillness. The deeper she peered at the night-shrouded tombstones, the more her heart raced. What if he'd been attacked and couldn't come back? What if the evil person setting her up for torment would fly out of the cemetery with a swinging axe? What if the masked cowboy was counting on her losing her cool to go running into the spooky cemetery to look for him? Her heart jumped hurdles to hear the door suddenly unlatch.
"Worried I wouldn't come back?" he quipped and jumped inside. He started up the car and tooled slowly back toward Manhattan.
"What did you see?"
"Nothing but a big tree growing right in the middle of a mausoleum. A perfect spot to do the things described in this fantasy. Whoever thought it up has a wicked imagination" He slid the papers back inside his jacket.
"Will you please take me home now?"
"You said you were hungry. How about I treat you to a late dinner?"
The lights of the city washed relief over Kelly's face. She basked in the light of the all-night burger joint whose drive-up window opened to receive her. She ordered a junior burger meal.
"Will that be all?" the scratchy teenage voice asked.
