She grins and kisses me before whispering back, “I love you too.”
Back home, I’m about to leave for work, when a feeling comes over me. Something about remembering Brooke as Wonder Woman last night makes me crave a moment with B-Girl. So I go into my studio office and pull out a box that holds final printed copies of the entire series to date. I spread the various issues over my animation table and proudly examine the covers with the fresh eye of time passing and a new perspective.
I pull the first book closer and slowly open it and begin turning the pages. As I examine each layout, I wonder how it would look to Brooke. Would she be flattered to see her persona as a beautiful heroine, a woman capable of changing people’s lives and possibly even saving the world?
I smile at this early issue, conceived long before I knew Brooke intimately. Whatever I could learn about Brooke back then, I would weave into the story. Sometimes it was something as specific as a particular outfit I had seen her in at work. Other times it was an expression or mannerism that I observed from afar. It’s interesting to me now that I wrote stories with B-Girl musing about people from the dark side, and how her mission in life was to eradicate those whose power grew by belittling others. Some of it feels prophetic now…as if I understood intuitively how Arnold would change and become a blighted shadow across her sunny path.
I remember at the beginning agonizing over her super hero costume design. It needed to showcase her curvy, glorious figure, without looking expected. I wanted the “B” to be cleverly identified as part of her look…so I created a jewel-encrusted “B” pendant that rested gently around her neck. Half rap-star inspired, half shaman-esque, the “B” of the pendant would shimmer when she needed to summon her powers.
If life were a comic book, I could construct a “B” pendant for my girl. Whenever we parted, it would protect and preserve her from the Mojos of the world, until she was back in my arms again.
I glance at my watch, then gently fold the books closed and return them to their box. As I slide the lid back on I realize that next week we will face our final test…Brooke will finally meet B-Girl.
Will she be flattered and moved to know how long she’s owned my heart, or will she resent the continual cover-ups and evasion about my big project, and lose her ability to trust me? In the end I believe Brooke will understand why I kept B-Girl a secret and that she will see the character as a reflection of my love for her. Brooke has a big heart and she loves me. I’m certain she will love B-Girl too.
So far our week of Woo has been perfect—a dreamy concoction of love and passion. So as I close my studio door and head towards my car, I’m optimistic. I should send Wayne Dyer a fruit basket or something. His carefully constructed manifesto of self-help has paid off for me in spades. That was the best forty bucks I’ve ever spent.
Yes, I am a man with a plan, and it looks like all of my dreams are coming true.
Animate Me / Chapter Twenty-Three / Animal Style
“Welcome to downtown Coolsville! Population: us.” ~Hogarthxxii
I lovingly push my pencil over the paper, the lead tip stroking her hips and the sides of her thighs. Each line grows darker and more refined as my Wonder Woman comes to life. As my pencil trails around her breasts I remember last night and the way she looked at me as we made love. I shift in my chair and remind myself that this isn’t the time or place to get worked up over those memories. Refocusing, I move up to her lovely face where I’ve already sketched in her features. As I finish up the drawing her lips curl up and her eyes shine as she gazes at me. My fingers gently lift and caress the edge of the paper as I smile back. I gently rub the eraser around the edges of the curves, removing the rough lines.
Good God, it’s like I’m making love to a drawing.
I’m so enchanted with her image I don’t even hear anyone approach.
“So when did Wonder Woman join the Beaver Patrol?”
I jerk up startled and put my hand over my drawing in a futile attempt to cover the evidence.
“Oh, h-hey Joel,” I stutter. Shit! “Sorry about that. I’ll get back to work. I was just taking a break. I blasted through my first scene this morning.”
“Interesting way to spend your breaks, Evans,” he says with a smirk. “But actually I came over here to get you. I wanted to talk for a minute.” He points down the hall. “Why don’t we head into my office?”
I look up surprised, and study his expression trying to figure out what’s going on. Before I follow him down the hall, I crack open my bottom drawer to slip my drawing inside. Have I done something wrong? I know this isn’t about my Wonder Woman drawing since he came to get me before he’d seen it.
His office is smaller than Brooke’s but it’s still cool. There are storyboards everywhere, and a complete set of maquette sculptures from the show. Joel somehow convinced the budgeting drone to pay to have sculptures made of each character, so the animators could study how the figures looked dimensionally from every angle.
He indicates for me to sit in one of the chairs near the storyboards, and he joins me.
“So what’s up?”
“I want to show you something. It’s a new idea I’m getting ready to pitch, and I’d like you to be involved.”
He hands me a drawing of a young kid. Other than the fact that he’s holding a skateboard and looks kind of cool, he’s unremarkable. I notice though, that physically he looks a lot like I did when I was young: long and lanky and messy brown hair.
“Who’s this?” I ask, studying the character’s features carefully.
“He’s my main character. His name is Robbie.”
I hand the drawing back, baffled as how he expects to center a show around such a normal looking kid.
“Does his skateboard have rockets on it or something? I mean what’s unique about him?”
“No, that’s the point,” says Joel, grinning. “He’s a regular kid.” Joel leans back and smiles before dramatically reaching over for another drawing.
I appreciate the build…Joel is a master at pitching, and I always learn something watching him.
“And here’s his family. The show is aptly called, Robbie from Romania.”
The elaborately gothic drawing is a cross between Nightmare Before Christmas and that show from the late Sixties, the Addams Family. When I study the drawing carefully, I notice all the characters have fangs.
“Romania? Oh I get it. It’s a family of…”
“Vampires,” Joel says excitedly. “Exactly! And he’s like the daughter Marilyn from that old classic show The Munsters. Robbie seems like a regular kid, leading what looks like a normal life…until he gets home to his family, a house full of eccentric vampires.”
“Did you get lost in T.V. land again?” I tease him, smiling. “And you’re so trendy with the vampire stuff, Joel.”
“Okay, I admit it,” he says with a sour face. “Management has been pushing me to do a vampire show, everyone wants fucking vampires. But I really like this. Think of all the stuff we could do.”
We? It sounds like I’m leaving the Beaver Patrol. “What do you mean, we?”
“I really think you’re ready for a bigger challenge, Nathan. I’d like you to help me produce the show.”
“Produce?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“Yeah, you’d be more involved in the story and character development, possibly even direct a couple of episodes. You’d get your own office and more money. How does that sound?”
Office? With a locking door? I’m liking that idea. Wow!
Of course, my Dad’s words about “how I’m going to manage everything” ring in my head. Why is life always like this? Nothing, nothing, nothing…and then everything happens at once. I pause another moment considering what I should say.