Animate Me (47 page)

When I finally rise to go to bed, I stop in the kitchen, pour out the coffee and carefully rinse out the inside of the cup. I finish by gently patting it dry with paper towels. Before I crawl in bed, I set it on my nightstand so it’s the last thing I look at before I close my eyes to sleep.

It may have been the world’s most expensive cup of coffee, but it was worth every cent.

“
You needn’t be out there on the edge anymore. You needn’t be alone.” ~Batman
^xxviii

J
ust past seven a.m. I wake up with a start and it takes a moment to remember where I am. The Starbucks cup on my nightstand grounds me, but also reminds me that I dreamed of Brooke.

In the dream, she was trapped in a cartoon and I was trying to get her free. It was like that trippy Aha!
Take On Me
music video that made an impression on me when I was a kid. I take a deep breath and move closer to the edge of my bed so I can read her words again, to remind me that Brooke isn’t trapped in a cartoon. I’m having coffee with her this afternoon. I smile and run my fingers through my hair.

I ease out of bed and decide to take a run. I may have a meeting with my lawyer to talk about the challenges in the case, but today there’s a reason to feel real hope. I chant my new mantra.

I’m seeing Brooke today.

I’m just tying up my running shoes when Curtis calls.

“Dude, quick! Turn on channel seven!”

I grab the remote and press the buttons. “Why? What’s up?” I ask as I wait for the TV to warm up.

“Do you have it on yet?”

I look and as the screen brightens there’s a cleaning ad on. “It’s just a commercial right now.”

“Yeah that’s right; now turn the sound up and wait!”

I turn up the volume and just moments later the news broadcaster comes on.

Watch out cartoon fans…there’s an uprising in Toon Town! The artists at Sketch Republic are staging a revolt claiming the company’s president, Arnauld Roth, has stolen the personal creative work from a young artist, who was employed there, named Nathan Evans. The company’s headquarters was plastered with angry posters and the company’s public website was hacked with the protestors’ message.

The visual switches from the broadcaster to my monkey illustration with Nick’s verbiage on the homepage of a computer.

I gasp out loud. I can’t believe this is on the damn news.

“Whoa,” I hear Curtis gasp. “That fucking rocks!”

The company’s twitter account was also hacked. For almost twelve hours, tweets were continually sent to the ninety-thousand Sketch Republic followers from a so-called “monkey man” character who tweeted repeated threats to steal their ideas and claim them as his own, while sucking out the souls of his followers.

I can tell the newscaster is fighting back a smile as she reads the copy.

The twitter sabotage may have gone unnoticed longer if a diligent mother hadn’t reported the tweets to Sketch Republic’s parent company after her child was traumatized by the threats. Her lawyer says a lawsuit’s pending.

I fist pump the air victoriously. I mean, I feel sorry for the kid and all, but this is just brilliant. Arnold is getting it from all sides.

Yesterday evening, several local bus bench advertisements were replaced with posters of the same theme and the resourceful rebels also took over one major billboard in Burbank, all within several miles of the Disney, Warner Bros., Nickelodeon, and Cartoon Network Studios.

They switch to the long shot of a billboard on Olive Ave. just past Warner Bros. It appears that the monkey man poster was reformatted in a long rectangle and pieced together in large printed squares. I can’t believe it.

Our inside sources tell us that the perpetrators have not been caught yet, but the entire staff is being interrogated. Meanwhile, the company president is now being investigated for his practices.

Curtis hoots loudly in the background.

We will keep you updated as we uncover further news from this Toon Town mutiny.

“Damn, Curtis!” I gasp after putting the TV on mute.

“Crazy…right? Did you know about all of this?”

“I knew some of it, but not the twitter and billboard parts. My friends masterminded it.”

“Well, those are some damn clever friends,” Curtis acknowledges. “Boy, I sure wouldn’t want them as my enemy.”

“Nor I,” I laugh. “Wow…that made my day. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Sure, bro. If that doesn’t inspire you, I don’t know what will.”

Right after we hang up, I think about my Brooke cup and almost call Curtis back, but then I realize who I want to tell my big news to first. I pick up my phone.

“Hey Dad,” I say casually, as if today is just another day.

“Did Curtis catch you in time?” Dad asks. “It’s remarkable that your story has made the local news. Your personal experience of being abused by management is developing into a social issue and could impact the future for other artists. What do you think about that?”

“It’s unreal…I’ll be happy if something good actually comes out of this nightmare.”

“I agree.”

“And Dad, there’s something else, too.”

“What’s that?”

I can’t help grinning as I say the words. “I’m seeing Brooke today. She finally contacted me.”

I hear him breathe a big sigh of relief. “That’s great, Son. When did you hear from her?”

“She got a message to me last night to meet her at four today.”

“Really…she sent you a message? That sounds mysterious and ripe with potential.”

“I also know from Morgan that she has a big meeting with Arnold today.”

“As I suspected, she didn’t want to see you until she had some type of resolution for your predicament. Well, perhaps there will be a plethora of good news today.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Will you call us?” He asks.

“Yes… yes, I promise.”

As I do some stretches for my run I let my mind wander. I try to imagine what it will be like to see Brooke again. Will she want to kiss me, or even hug? She says she wants to talk…what if there are other issues I don’t even know about yet? I start to worry, but then force myself to think about other things.

In reality, I’m not even sure what to say to her. Do I tell her how mad and disappointed I’ve been with her for not contacting me earlier? Do I tell her how low I sank, and the battle I’ve had to keep my spirits up? Or instead do I try to keep it light?

More determined than ever, I finally head outside and hit a fast pace on my run. My mind spins with thoughts of Brooke, B-Girl, the news report, the Arnold meeting…it’s stunning to realize for the first time in my life, I not only don’t know what tomorrow holds, I don’t even know what this afternoon has in store for me. Whatever Brooke says today could potentially determine how the rest of my life will unfold.

• • •

An hour later, my phone rings.

“Have you forgotten who your leader is in this revolt, Nathan?” Dani whispers into the phone.

“Dani?” I ask. “Why are you whispering?”

“I’m at work. Wait a sec. I’m almost outside. I won’t have to whisper in a minute.”

I wait patiently until she speaks up again.

“I didn’t even get consulted before you called in the media,” she huffs. “I saw the news clip online.”

“It’s online already too?” I ask bewildered.

“Yeah, on the ABC News website. Haven’t you seen it yet?”

“No. And for your information, I didn’t call the media about all of this. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“I know that, silly man. I called them,” she informs me. “But I
am
surprised all the news sites got it up so fast. My brother saw it and alerted me. I forwarded it to Morgan and every one of the troops. Morgan then got it to Alana, who got it to Arnauld right before Brooke showed up with her lawyer. Take that mother fucking Monkey Man!”

Despite Dani’s glee, a surge of panic rises through me. Brooke’s there with Arnold. I know everything that matters to me rides on how their meeting goes.

“It’s viral in the building, and from what I hear, at every animation studio in town. Soon, dear Pinky, we will take over the world!” she says happily, in a voice imitating The Brain.

“Dani…”

“I know, I know…how can you ever thank me. Well, consider us even, since you helped me get my man back. Believe me, Nathan, I’m having the time of my life.”

For the next few hours, I try to stay calm and not obsess about how the meeting is going. I listen to Wayne and try deep breathing techniques. All that does is get me worked up since the last time I took breaths like that Brooke’s mouth was on me. This isn’t calming me at all—just the opposite, as images of Brooke in various states of undress flash through my mind.

Damn, I’m such a guy.
Brooke could be in peril, fighting for me in Arnold’s office. How can I be thinking about sex at a time like this?

I need to distract myself so I end up resorting to my tried and true…a viewing of the Golden Collection DVDs of classic Looney Tunes. The first DVD starts with
Duck Amuck
, where Chuck Jones has Bugs Bunny at a drafting table animating Daffy Duck in every humiliating way possible. I grin because it reminds me of my Monkey Man drawing and how much it’s presence has undoubtedly tormented Arnold.

Next up is Friz Freleng’s
Bird’s Anonymous
, where Sylvester goes into the twelve-step program to get over his obsession with Tweety Bird. I realize I’ll have to join a similar group for lovesick fools if Brooke doesn’t come back to me. Robert McKimson’s terrific
Gorilla My Dreams
distracts me with Bugs’ antics when he’s adopted by two gorillas in the jungle.

But my favorite on this DVD is Bob Clampett’s
Porky in Wackyland
, a black and white surreal cartoon from the thirties. Porky finds himself falling through a chute into an alternate reality while searching for the rare and illusive Dodo bird. As well-meaning Porky stumbles through the Dali-inspired landscapes, he comes across numerous strange creatures and becomes so exasperated trying to get what he wants most. At some point he’s just trying to survive his ordeal. I don’t think I’ve ever related to Porky Pig quite like I do today, because ever since Monday I’ve been tumbling through Wackyland too.

• • •

At three-forty, I fire up the Mini-Cooper and head to the Toluca Lake Starbucks, right at the edge of the studio side of Burbank. After scanning the place to make sure Brooke isn’t here yet, I order our drinks and find a quiet table outside. I don’t know when I’ve ever been so nervous. The entire time my stomach is fluttering and my right eye’s twitching.

I try to focus on Brooke’s macchiato, and luckily the idea for her illustration comes easily to me. Sometimes the most obvious solution is also the best one. I hold the cup and work carefully while I move my Sharpie over the curved surface. As I carefully finish the sketch, I sense someone settling into Brooke’s chair and I look up to warn them that the seat is taken. But it’s Brooke, and she’s watching me with her huge, somber eyes.

My Brooke.

She studies me carefully, and it’s almost more than I can take. As much as I want to jump up and grab her, I have to follow her cues. She chose to sit down quietly without even hugging me first. The realization makes me incredibly sad.

“Hey, Brooke,” I say softly.

“Hi.” She smiles a sad smile.

We just stare at each other for another moment, taking in everything. She looks tired, not good at all. This is a much different woman than the one I kissed goodbye Monday morning.

“Is that for me?” she asks, pointing to the cup I just finished.

“Yeah,” I answer, gently pushing it towards her.

She reaches for it and rotates it slowly until she finds her sketch. She takes a sharp breath and gently runs her finger over the rendering of B-Girl.

A tear works its way down her cheek and she lifts her beautiful hand to brush it away. “I love it,” she says looking up at me.

I get up and stand next to her chair. “Come here,” I say gently as I extend my arms open.

She blinks back more tears and slowly rises, then steps into my embrace. I fold my arms tightly around her. My heart pounds wildly just to have her close. I’m holding my Brooke again.

“God, I’ve missed you,” I whisper into her hair.

“Oh Nathan. You have no idea…” Her fingers press into me like she’s afraid I’ll let her go.

“No, I don’t. I wish you’d returned my calls. Then I would’ve had an idea.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t…I just couldn’t call, even if I’d gotten the messages. But I thought about you every minute of every day.”

She thought of me every minute? If I was in her thoughts…surely, I must still be in her heart.
Hope fires up inside of me.

“I’ve been in the dark all week. If Morgan hadn’t at least told me you were all right, I would’ve gone mad,” I say.

“But that’s the thing…I haven’t been all right. I’ve been in really bad shape. I pretty much fell apart Monday afternoon.”

“But why didn’t you let me help you?”