Secondhand Life - Part 52

It was a preposterous plan. It bordered on 'zany'. As I listened to him explain it, eyes wide as he animatedly gesticulated, practically pantomiming the interplay of elements in his 'plan', I realized that animated was the perfect word to describe it. Chuck Jones could not have come up with a more unlikely plot for one of his classic Loony Toons. I remembered Mikey and his sister Meg dragging out the old boardgame Mousetrap on one of my visits as a kid. Something told me Brad played that game as a kid too... and loved it.

I caught myself cocking my head to one side like a skeptical bird, hardly believing what my own eyes were witnessing as Brad darted up, crouched down, traced objects in the air with his hands and generally mimed his way through the whole 'escape scenario'.

He finally finished his 'explanation' and plopped back into his seat with a stupid grin and an expectant stare.

“Well?” he beamed.

I could only stare at him in disbelief. Eyes unblinking while I replayed his whole outrageous 'plan' in my head. 'Keller-long' didn't begin to describe the pause. His hopeful grin never wavered.

“....So?...” he prodded, grin still plastered.

I finally blinked. After trying to digest the whole complicated scheme, I caught myself in a reflexive little head shake ….maybe 'rattle' is a better word... trying to loosen all the moving parts of the plan and toss them out of my brain. Who on earth would come up with a plan this complicated and inherently ridiculous. ….other than ME that is.... apparently the grinning idiot sitting across from me.

“I'm in.” I whispered with a smirk.

~

It took a while to coordinate, but it seemed I had nothing but time, now that even press interviews were off the table. I was able to talk Dez & company to let me do some video interviews via Skype, but even then my image in the screen was framed by the blacksuited torsos of two very imposing looking guards, dramatically reinforcing my suffocating 'security quarantine'. It took me a while to talk Lisa and Scott... the two security folks who most forcefully resembled central casting's idea of 'intimidating muscle' to flank me in the video, posed 'at ease' – but not too much at ease, each with their hands folded one over the other over their black jackets at their beltline like two assassins patiently awaiting their orders. I assured them that their faces would not be onscreen with me, just their ominous torsos and legs down to about mid thigh. I think I finally communicated what I was going for when they finally turned to each other with a slight smirk, nodded their approval to the other and turned to me with mischievous grins.

So, my 'house arrest' was reinforced by my Skype interviews far more dramatically than any of the in-person interviews ever were. I made a few more rounds of local and international interviews, expressing to interviewers on future stops on our junket the hope that I would be able to make my visits to their lands substantially more … 'free range'.

As for my 'great escape', I knew I'd need an ally on the inside. I knew instantly that my cousin Mikey was my only hope.

He didn't need much convincing, and as I'd surmised... he was more thrilled by the 'zany adventure' part of the scheme than the real and serious danger of the scheme. That is why I insisted that he not let anything slip to Dennis. I was certain he would keep me in my cage to keep me safe even if it meant me bouncing off the walls of my prison until we finally left the Philippines.

~

Dennis didn't have to wake me the next morning. I was up before even he was. I said good morning to my current pair of round-the-clock guards. I told them I was ordering breakfast from room service and asked them if they wanted anything. They were surprised at my offer but politely declined. I suspect they were looking forward to a real breakfast when their shifts ended in a few hours.

When the room service trolley arrived, it got the usual near-teardown my thorough security crew gave everything entering my suite. I kidded Rick & Pam – my current guards - that they were free to pick at my tofu bacon or vegan omelet to make sure no one was trying to poison me. They diplomatically demurred. I could tell by their expressions that they felt vegan anything was already too close to poison for their tastes. I suppressed my grin and hauled the now-cleared trolley into my suite.

A few hours later, when room service came to retrieve the trolley, Phil & Dawn, my next shift guards ventured into the suite to see if I was done with the breakfast cart. My cousin Mikey confirmed that the cart could go back.... as did the picked clean plates littering the top tray. He went into my room and wheeled it out to them... explaining to the security detail that I was currently in-dispose, but that the tray was good to go. No one questioned this.

Since my security detail was focused on preventing threats from getting IN and not remotely concerned with refuse leaving my suite, there was no inspection of the outgoing trolley. Or the escapee painfully folded into the covered area beneath the trolley.

The 'porter' fetching the trolley delivered it to Brad's room. As planned. He whipped up the linen covering the lower compartment and I spilled out, blissfully unfolding myself like a piece of masochistic origami.

“Welcome to the free world.” He grinned.

OK. Phase one worked. But I was still trapped in the hotel.

“Don't gloat yet.” I grinned. “We still have to get outside.”

“Piece of cake.” he grinned as he handed me the garment.

“I have my doubts about this.” I confessed as I unfolded the garment. “I'm a bit ….oddly proportioned.”

He grinned. “No problem. You just crouch down and fold up your arms so that the sleeves only go to your elbows. Keep your arms crossed and no one will notice the hands ….or no hands.”

“You really think this will work?” I crooked an eyebrow.

Brad shrugged. “One way to find out.” A slow grin crept across his face.

I rolled my eyes. “This is insane.”

“Like wrestling a shark?” he grinned.

“Not much choice there.” I spat.

“True. Here, it's your call. So, go back to your 'house arrest'?”

I sighed and pulled the garment on over my head.

~

The hotel had a vast international clientele, so very little raised an eyebrow in the lobby. Certainly not the family bustling out to 'see the sights'.

Brad – in traditional middle eastern garb, flanked by his 'children' and one of his wives, was utterly ignored by everyone in the lobby – including whatever covert security personnel were stationed to guard against threats to the Thornbirds cast.

Despite the knee-guards, I found walking with my shins bound to my thighs incredibly uncomfortable and was relieved once in the cab to unfold my legs and arms and get back to my normal abnormal proportions.

Brad grinned “See? I told you it would work.”

I shot him a glare “Only because no one expected anyone to try something so obviously stupid.”

His smile didn't waver. “Take all the potshots you want. It worked.”

I glowered. “So far.”

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, security finally twigged that their charge had escaped protective custody. Mikey acted as startled as anyone that I had 'busted out', though I'm not sure anyone entirely believed him. They grilled him mercilessly but he kept to the cover story, and even if they weren't convinced, they resigned themselves to the conclusion that grilling him was a waste of time.

Meanwhile, off-duty security crew were all called in and, as discreetly as possible, spread throughout the hotel to hunt for the missing subject.

So, when the towering figure in the burka wandered into the lobby and made a beeline for the revolving doors, it immediately drew all sorts of attention. First, while women in burkas were not uncommon in the hotel lobby, they never traveled alone. Usually they were in groups, and almost always accompanied by at least one male chaperon. The solo subject would have drawn attention even if they didn't tower over the crowd at well over six feet tall.

There was an instant flurry of radio chatter and a number of security teams converged on the lobby before the subject had halfway traversed it.

Noticing the sudden appearance of teams in identical nondescript suits emerging from every hall feeding into the lobby, the burka clad figure stopped, turned right and left and surveyed the lobby, then a heartbeat later, sprinted for the exit door.

The scrambling security forces struggled to speed across the crowded lobby, swerving around startled guests, vendors and visitors as they tried to intercept the subject at the door. Meanwhile, the subject in the burka was bolting for the exit as crowds parted to avoid colliding with this accelerating apparition.

Avoiding the revolving doors at the last minute, the figure darted to a fire door with a push-bar and exploded onto the walkway in front of the hotel. The pursuing security folks were still struggling to scramble through the exit doors and the figure in the burka extended their distance.

Until a black Mercedes skidded off the circular driveway cutting off the walkway and a team of black suited security folks spilled out to tackle the suspect.

Surprise doesn't describe their reaction, when to their utter stupefaction, the tackled 'suspect' ….buckled.... seemingly splitting in half as two Malaysian acrobats darted out from under the fluttering burka and bolted in opposite directions.

It was a stunning sight to watch the chaos as Brad and I crossed the lobby, he in his thobe and kuffiyeh and me under my burka, shins lashed to my thighs, awkwardly walking on my padded knees, our 'children' in tow. Actually, they were other diminutive members of the Malaysian acrobat troupe from Brad's macabre cabaret act who agreed to help us in our zany plan. With all the confusion in the lobby, no one noticed the nondescript family making their way to the taxi stand outside the hotel.

Once in the cab and on our way into town, the 'kids' helped unbind my legs and I unfolded as discreetly as I could, trying to avoid the attention of our driver. It was a great relief to be free to stretch my legs again, ditching the knee pads and pulling my trainers from my bag.

I don't think the driver paid us any mind while we headed to the market district Brad specified.

If he didn't notice anything in the cab, it was near-impossible not to notice when I emerged from our cab, having rolled down the excess fabric in the burka to cover me down to my trainers. There are very few 6'7” figures in Burkas wandering around Manila. And though I tried mightily to crouch, I still towered over most of the men and all of the women.

Still, I hoped we would manage to get some sight-seeing and a little souvenir shopping in before we drew too much attention.

Turns out we didn't even get a full hour.

While it was clear from the start that we stood out like a pimple on a prom queen, people seemed startled and unsure how to react to us, so we just went about our business surrounded by the bewildered crowd.

I bought a few quirky souvenirs that I thought Dennis, Mikey and Matt might enjoy. I also discreetly 'stole' one of the bounty flyers from a streetpole we passed while browsing the pushcarts, stalls and storefronts of the merchant district. As we continued to rummage around, I noticed the tenor of the crowd slowly change from confusion to quiet whispering and what seemed escalating malevolent attention.

We were wandering through a bazaar in Salcedo when I noticed the previously random crowd seeming to take on a singular demeanour. My old intuition when bullies were gathering and danger was imminent was blaring like a klaxon in my subconscious.

I spotted a boutique storefront and said to 'Tariq' (Brad) with a raised finger “Just one moment. ….come children....” and stepped inside.

Where I quickly tore through racks, the sense of impending dread growing ever stronger, I randomly grabbed an item off the rack and raced for the dressing room, children in tow.

The crowd was gathering in front of the store. There was an agitated murmur as various people kept pointing through the glass. The alarmed shopkeeper noticed the commotion and stepped outside to confront the growing crowd.

Even Brad noticed the alarming mood of the gathering mob. He pushed his way into the store and yelled “Ka.... wife... are you in here?”

“One moment!” I yelled from the dressing stall.

Brad turned just as I shouted “we're outed! Run!!!” And the drape of the dressing stall was ripped aside as the looming figure in the burka darted from it.

Brad startled for only a moment before using himself as a human shield to defend the fleeing figure, hurling himself into the startled mob and tackling everyone in his path. Quickly the sheer number of agitated locals swarmed around him, totally ignoring the impotent defender and making chase for the frantically fleeing figure in the burka. It took them no time to catch up and their surprise when the subject ...buckled... and split into two 'children' (actually diminutive Malaysian acrobats) who fled in opposite directions …. neither followed by the bewildered mob.... as the actual subject of their ire made her way out the service door to the alley behind the boutique.... curiously invigorated by the rush of once again outwitting a pack of bullies... and dashed off as fast as her freakishly long legs would carry her, clad in only her under-burka running gear and trainers.... with absolutely NO idea where she was or where she was headed.



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