CHAPTER 4: THE SET UP

I instinctively threw my back against the mop bucket.  The less isolated I was, the better.  The thunderous footsteps of this green-eyed giantess approached.  Frantic, but not panicked, I considered my options.  Being discovered would be bad.  But being left behind in a closet at this size at the mercy of fate was probably a bad idea also.  I needed a way to get to that amulet.  Jayne, here, would be my ticket.

As the door swung open, an epic sandaled foot came down ten yards (from my perspective) from me.  I glanced briefly at the foot, realizing it was planted where I was standing a few moments ago.  I pictured the barkeep’s end in my mind, maybe marveling that he had survived such a terrible fall, only looking up to see a colossal foot coming down on him, as if he were nothing but a small bug.  Looking at the foot in front me, I realize that I probably was a small bug to her.  Especially this one.

I craned my neck backwards to get a good look at Jayne’s leg, and I thought that comparing her to a gymnast was an understatement.  This leg, even if I were at my normal size, was a solid bundle of pure muscle.  I took a second to admire it, and then realized my window of opportunity was closing.  She was reaching for a fresh towel.  That’s when I made my move.  I darted towards her foot and leapt onto the side of her sandal, gripping the buckle with all the strength my arms and legs would allow.  Towel in hand, she began to walk out.  Each step was an amusement park ride without safety constraints.  I closed my eyes and concentrated all my strength on not letting go.

When the ride came to a stop, I allowed myself to look around.  I was in the middle of the action now.  No turning back.  To my right I could see the long (very long) legs of Nicole, clad in a medium white skirt.  Her blue spaghetti strap top could barely contain her generous endowments.  I could almost forgive Hotshot for staring, had he not been such a blatant asswipe about it.  To my left was Angel.  Her black stiletto shoe was still place on the barkeep’s corpse.  I almost wished she wouldn’t move it so I didn’t have to see what happened when a human body is compressed under unimaginable force.  I glanced at her tight fishnets and followed her long legs up to her short skirt, which might as well have been a scarf.   

Jayne took a step forward, murmuring something to Angel and handed her a clean rag.  Angel lifted her boot to give it a good wipe.  I glanced (unfortunately) at where I last saw the barkeep had fallen.  At least it was fast, was the only consolation I would have given him, were he more than a smear.  Angel then leaned her graceful figure over to wipe what was left of the barkeep from the tile.  I held closely to Jayne’s sandal buckle, realizing I would be in Angel’s field of vision should she look over here.  Time seemed to slow, and the anticipation of being discovered was truly terrifying.  She scooped up his remains, including blood-drenched clothes and balled it into the rag.  I looked at myself for a moment thinking to myself how peculiar it was that my clothing, too, hadn’t simply fallen off.

“A drink?” Jayne asked.

“One drink, then we’re off,” Angel said to the others.  “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

Jayne was on the move again, so suddenly I almost lost my grip on her sandal buckle.  Only a few steps towards the bar.  She planted herself on the barstool I’d been on earlier, and the foot I was riding now barely touched the floor while the other was perched on one of the barstool’s legs.  My arms were getting tired.  I flinched and almost cried out as a small drawstring handbag dropped the floor next to me.  It was Jayne’s.  I dared a look upwards.  I could see her lovely leg but not much else.  She wasn’t going to reach for the purse.  At least, not yet.

I climbed very carefully to the floor.  Only Jayne and Angel were sitting.  Nicole had gone to the other side of the bar to presumably fetch the drinks.  I ventured another glance up at Jayne, now that I was slightly away from her.  A rush of adrenaline surged through me as I pondered the absolute power these three titans could wield over me.  There were gorgeous before any this had happened.  Now, quite literally, they were goddesses to me.  But judging by what Angel did to the barkeep, they weren’t the type whose attention I would like to draw. 

The amulet.  I needed to get to that and figure out how to restore myself.  I could see it still dangling from Angel’s neck.  I recalled the bright red flash that engulfed me.  It came from the red side of the stone.  I wondered if the green side of the stone had the opposite effect.  I would have to find out.  I thought about walking to Angel’s foot.  Perhaps I could scale those fishnets like a giant chainlinked fence.  But then what.  One misstep and I’d be dead.  If I were discovered, I’d be dead, or tossed in with Hotshot and his idiot friends to share their fate.  No, it was too risky a play.    The opportunity will present itself.  But not now.  But I couldn’t let them leave without me, either.  I needed a place to stow away.  Hanging onto a sandal was too tiring, dangerous, and frankly, demeaning.  My attention turned back to Jayne’s purse.  Bingo.

I touched the leather of the handbag.  It was amazing how the material looked at my new size.  Every minor crack and imperfection in the leather was magnified.  It also made for good traction.  So I climbed into Jayne’s drawstring handbag, which was still sitting, ignored, on the floor.  As I lowered myself inside, the smell of leather overwhelmed me.  It faintly reminded me of my little league mitt.  At this size, items were a little hard to identify.  A tube of chapstick looked more like an oil drum to me.  A hairbrush.  Some papers.  Receipts, maybe.

Then, a bright red light flashed.  I braced myself, at first thinking the amulet was at work again.  But no, this came from inside her purse.  It flashed again, and I saw it.  A cell phone.  My first instinct was to dial “911,” but I questioned whether the microphone would be sensitive enough to pick up the voice powered by my tiny lungs.  It flashed again.  A message?  I pushed the “OK” button by jumping onto it was both feet and all my weight, just to light up the screen.  “New Text Message!” It read.  “Press ‘OK’ to read.”  I had nothing better to do.  I jumped again.  It was too big to make out, so I stepped back from the phone…  I had to turn my head back and forth to read it, as if it were a small movie screen.

“HEY JAYNE,” it read.  “SENT A MAN 2 THE BAR 2NITE.  TAKE HIM 2.  MY GIFT 2 U FOR WHAT I DID 2 KYLE.  HE MIGHT BE HIDING WHEN U GET THERE.”

I had to take a step back to look at the callback number, just to confirm that I was the biggest (or smallest) tool in the world.  The client, Leila, had set me up.  I was supposed to be in clutch purse with the others.  I had no time to lament my own stupidity before yet another crisis arose.

“You about ready, girls?” I heard Jayne ask.

The message… I had to delete it.  Frantically, and now a little panicky, I searched for the “OPTIONS” button.  My first kick didn’t register.  I kicked again, jamming my ankle.  More options came up.  “REPLY” was the highlighted option.  Under that was “SAVE,” and under that was “DELETE”… I pushed on the “DOWN” arrow.  Nothing.  I heard Jayne stand up.  I pushed again, this time with all of my might.  “SAVE” … Um, no.

“You have them all?” Jayne was asking Angel.

“Yes.  The bold one is quite screamer,” she said.

I summoned my inner Bruce Lee one more time and kicked the “DOWN” arrow again.  “DELETE.”  I buried my shoulder into the “OK” button, bruising myself to the bone in the process.  I glanced up victoriously at the screen.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE?”  Oh, for fuck’s sake.