Fast Forward (17 page)

“Mission accomplished.” I nodded in satisfaction. Except … why were my breaths coming in shallow bursts?

The suit was constricting my ribcage and I couldn’t draw a deep breath. This awareness only made things worse and I panicked.
Oh no, oh no, I’d better take this thing off
!

I reversed my previous steps and pulled upwards at the suit, guiding it up over my hips and belly, and with one giant grunt, up and over my breasts which almost slapped me in the face from the effort. I took a few breaths of relief as the suit sat under my armpits for a moment. I crossed my arms, delivering my hands to opposite armpits and proceeded to pull the suit upwards over my shoulders and head. Only it got stuck halfway at my elbows, my face obscured by a blanket of beige and my arms up in the air, trapped alongside my head inside the suit that sure as hell wasn’t magic.

“Argh!” This thing was like a bloody straightjacket! I’d like to see Houdini get out of this one. I yanked and yanked, but the suit wouldn’t budge, and now it was almost cutting off my air supply, like I had envisioned my turkey neck could have done during the bungy jump. “Argh!” I panicked, the suit muffling my voice. I twisted and turned, swivelled this way and that, all the while trying to pull the suit up over my head, but there it stayed. In my furious efforts, I bumped into the edge of the bed and toppled over to the floor. My legs flailed about as I tried to get up without using my hands, which were waving about helplessly above my head with my elbow joints locked in place by the ‘miracle rip-proof triple-woven fabric’ of the magic suit.

Magic Suit my arse. More like Death Suit—this thing was killing me!

I grabbed the edge of the fabric again, pulling as hard as I could, but only managed to squash my face, my upturned nose now practically touching my forehead. I must have looked like one of those criminals who cover their face with stockings. I could rob a bank in this thing, only I’d need an accomplice—or a guide dog—to show me where the hell I was going and possibly an oxygen tank feeding me air through a straw.

Oh my God! What was I going to do? My mind swirled in one chaotic haze, as panic rose within and the chances of getting out of this predicament alive seemed slimmer by the minute. Unlike my abdomen.

Crazy images flashed through my mind of Will finding me passed out on the floor of the bedroom, the magic suit still covering my head, arms still stuck up in the air … paramedics whisking me off to hospital …. Will waiting anxiously outside the operating room and the doctor emerging with an expression of defeat, pulling the mask off his face in resignation.

I’m sorry, Mr McSnelly. We did everything we could. We managed to remove some of it, but couldn’t get it all, I’m afraid. The situation was too far advanced and she couldn’t fight any longer. I’m very sorry
.

Will would collapse in tears and the doctor would go back to the operating room and sign my death certificate.
Cause of death: Asphyxiation by SlimFX Magic Suit
.

A lawsuit—ha! how appropriate—would ensue and, if the suits weren’t taken off the market, they would at least come with a warning on the packet like cigarettes:
Use magic suit at own risk. May cause death, deformity, or post-traumatic stress disorder
. They’d have a grotesque picture of some poor woman—probably me—trapped in the suit. Others would show gangrenous arms from the circulation being cut off and faces permanently disfigured from the pressure exerted by the suit during its attempted take-off mission. I realised then that I’d have to have a closed coffin at my funeral so as to spare my family from the trauma of seeing me like that. Speaking of coffins, I’d probably need an extra-long one to accommodate my arms, permanently extended above my head from not only the stuck magic suit but also rigor mortis.

Before my mind got carried away further with ridiculous visions from the lack of oxygen, I knew I had to get help.

“Help!” I yelled in a muffled voice, trudging blindly towards where I remembered the bedroom door to be. “Ryan, help!” I screamed through the door and, unable to open it, I banged it with my raised fists, adding a kick of my foot for good measure. The door swung open and banged me on the head, only adding to my dizziness and disorientation.

“Mum! Oh my God!” Ryan’s voice exclaimed, as he yanked at the top of the suit.

“Get it off me!” I yelled.

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” He continued yanking.

The poor kid, I’d probably scarred him for life. Thank God I had the good sense to keep my bra on underneath, otherwise this situation would be a whole lot worse with those two buggers on the loose.

“Ugh!” Ryan grunted and then spoke in a muffled voice.

“What did you say? I can’t hear properly!” My arms were stuck against my ears so not only could I barely breathe, speak or move, I was half deaf as well.

“I said: you’ll have to pull it back down, okay?” he yelled.

“No! I have to get it off, right now!”

“I know, but I’ve tried and I can’t. Let’s just pull it back down so we can figure out what to do!”

Except I couldn’t pull it back down since my arms were stuck and all blood had most likely drained out of them. Ryan pulled at the suit and it rolled gradually down my arms, over my head, and past my shoulders, until my face was free and I rapidly drew in wonderful, delicious gulps of air.

“There, at least you can catch your breath,” Ryan said.

“I … I’ve … got it … from here, thanks.” I turned away from my son and dragged the suit back over mammogram land, and then over my belly and hips. The shallow breaths I took were a welcoming contrast to the strangulation I’d experienced.

“Should I get some scissors?” Ryan asked, pointing out the door where two of the caterers looked on in horror.

“No, I’ll just have to leave it on for now. It’s okay, I can breathe. It’s a little tight, but not too bad. I’ll attack it with scissors once the night is over.” Which I probably wouldn’t need to do because as soon as that cake appeared I was out of here! At least I hoped I would be. I couldn’t take any more. This was the last straw. If worse came to worst and I was still here after the party, then at least the magic suit would be a deterrent to William’s advances and he’d probably give up and go to sleep.

“You sure?” Ryan asked and I nodded.

“Although, could you help me into my dress, just in case?” I flashed him an apologetic smile as I stepped into the dress, my body squishing further as he slid the zipper up at the back. There was a moment when I thought it wouldn’t go all the way up, but it did. Just.

After the most traumatic moment of my life, bar the bungy jump, I stood dressed and ready for my party. Apart from my hair which appeared starched in an upward fashion, and my lipstick which was now on my nose and my eyeliner which now graced the lines on my forehead.

“Why are you wearing this dress anyway, Mum?” Ryan asked, lines of confusion on his face.

“Why? Don’t you like it?” Were red sequined figure-hugging dresses some sort of fashion no-no in the future?

“Of course I like it, but it’s a bit old fashioned and anyway, it’s not exactly a costume.”

“A what?”

“A fancy dress costume. Your birthday event is a costume party, remember?”

Oh, crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.

All that hard work and I could have just worn a big white sheet, easily covered all my bits and called myself a ghost. Ryan’s eyes were awaiting an answer, so I racked my brain for an excuse.

“I … I’m … dressing up as my twenty-five-year-old self.”
Brilliant, Kelli
!

Ryan’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. “Right. Okay, it’s different I guess, but great idea, Mum.”

Phew. Drama averted.

“So did you wear shoes back then?” He glanced at my bare feet.

“Oh shoes, yes I need shoes!” My toes hooked under the handle of the bottom draw of the wardrobe and pulled it open. Thankfully there was a decent array of shoes to choose from, so long as my feet hadn’t gained weight too and needed their own support briefs. There were no red shoes to match my dress, so I plucked out a pair of plain nude heels, slipping my feet inside them.

As I did this, Ryan pulled some kind of mask over his face and I tipped my head back in realisation that his tail was part of a fancy dress costume and not the latest fashion as I had originally thought. “So, what are you dressed as?” I asked.

“Seriously?” he said. “You don’t know?”

I shrugged and held my palms up as if the answer might fall into my hands.

“The Lizardile,” he said in a teasing manner.

“The what?”

“You know … The Lizardile, from the book and movie series?”

I stared at him blankly.

“The mutant lizard-slash-crocodile who defeated the Lord of Zarcan to free the inhabitants of Drokon Island? The only book and film franchise to outsell Harry Potter?”

“Oh,
that
Lizardile, of course!” How the heck could a mutant lizard crocodile creature thingy outsell Harry Potter?

“And Ben’s dressing up as The Frake, my accomplice.” I stared blankly at Ryan again as he spoke. “Frog. Snake. Frake?”

“Yes, that’s right. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it.” God I hope it wasn’t released just last week or anything. I should really learn to think before I speak. “So, Ben’s coming, huh? Have you thought any further about telling him how you feel?”

Ryan dipped his head and sat on the bed. “I was thinking about telling him tonight, but I’m still not sure. What if he doesn’t feel the same and then storms out and our band breaks up and he never speaks to me again and I can no longer get discount bungy jumps?”

I sat next to Ryan on the bed, touched that he could talk to his mother about these things. I must be pretty cool. “You’ll never know if you don’t try,” I said.

“I know. I’m just … scared.” He picked up his tail and fiddled with the spikes protruding from it.

Awareness of how important this was to him hit me like a slap on the face. All day I’d been concerned only with myself, but somehow, this future was real, even if it wouldn’t eventuate again once I got back home. Ryan needed my help, my words of wisdom, if I could summon any.

I drew a sharp intake of air, still somewhat in oxygen debt from the recent trauma and said, “If you truly love someone and want to be with them, you can’t waste any time wondering. You have to take a risk, take the opportunity when it arises and tell them how you feel. Because one day you might wake up and they could be gone. Don’t let the chance of happiness slip through your fingers.”

Ryan’s wide eyes looked at me from beneath his crocodile mask and he smiled. “You’re absolutely right, Mum. I’m going to tell him. Tonight.”

I seriously hoped I’d given him the right advice and didn’t just dig a proverbial grave for his ego. I said what felt right and the rest was up to him. He was a grown man, er … Lizardile.

“Are we having the party in here instead?” Will pushed open the bedroom door and walked through, lifting his tie over his head, kicking off his shoes, and placing a shopping bag—no doubt containing our bedroom supplies—in the corner of the room.

“Mum and I were just having a chat, but I’d better get back out there before the guests arrive,” said Ryan. “You should get a move on with your costume, Dad.”

“Yep, I know. It won’t take long, it’s a one piece suit,” he said and Ryan and I burst out laughing. If only he knew what I’d been through with
my
one piece suit.

Will eyed us with a curious smile and I flicked my hand at him. “Private joke, don’t worry.”

“Fair enough.” He unbuttoned his shirt then paused to glance at his e-pad. “Bugger, I won’t have time for a shower.” He withdrew a deodorant bottle from his bedside table, giving each of his armpits a quick spray, a warm spicy scent filling the room. “Hey, why aren’t you wearing your costume?”

“She’s going as her twenty-five-year-old self,” Ryan explained, smiling and exiting the bedroom, leaving a whiff of fruity aftershave in his wake which battled with the opposing scent of Will’s deodorant.

“Is that so?” Will sidled up to me. “In honour of the age you were when we first met again, huh?”

“Yes, I thought it would be a nice idea.”

“And you’re even wearing the same dress you wore that night.” He ran his hand down my arm and eyed the length of my body. “Looking good, honey.” He removed his shirt and shoved it into a chute like the one in the kitchen, revealing a light layer of hair on his chest and surprisingly sculpted abs. Not model material, but he obviously looked after himself. For an old guy.

“Thanks,” I said as he undid his belt and, realising I’d see a whole lot more of Will than I was used to if I didn’t act soon, I shuffled my tightly enclosed body over to the ensuite and opened the door. “I ah, I’ll just fix up my hair and make-up.” I slid the door closed behind me just as the pants slid down his legs.

I rearranged my make-up back to its correct geographical locations and found a brush, hair elastic and bobby pins in the bathroom cabinet to pull my hair back in as close to a chignon as I could manage. I finished off with a spray of some perfume I’d never heard of, but smelt divine, and opened the door a fraction to make sure Will was decent. My jaw dropped as I opened the door to find Will in a Superman outfit, standing with his fists planted firmly on his hips and the moulded muscles of his suit making him appear bigger than he was.

“I’ve come to rescue you,” he said, scooping me off the ground and into his arms then collapsing on the bed with me in laughter. “Okay, my superpowers might kick in a bit later. I need to get warmed up first.” He smiled and I couldn’t help but smile too. He was such a dork. But a cute dork nonetheless.

Ding, dong
!

“Sounds like our first guests have arrived,” Will said.

“Can you help me up? My dress is a little on the tight side.”

He pushed on my back to lift my rigid body from the bed and I took a preparatory breath.

“Shall we?” He offered his crooked elbow and I linked my arm with his and headed to where the party was about to begin.

“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.”