California Schemin' - Kate George [13]
The hotel clerk winked at me as I passed through the lobby. I bet he didn't wink at the senators like that. It's because he thinks I'm some kind of spy. I keyed myself up the elevator and into my room. The joy had gone out of the day, not that it had been all that great to begin with. I missed Beau. I set the alarm so I didn’t miss my flight and crawled into bed.
I made the airport in good time the next morning and didn’t have any trouble with security, as Beau had my cosmetics in his pocket. I made a mental note to call and remind him to mail the stuff to me, otherwise they’d still be in his pocket next time I saw him. I was one of the first people seated on the plane. I took a window seat toward the front and concentrated all my energy on looking like an unfriendly seat hog in hopes of not being crammed in with two other people all the way to Burlington.
My scowl seemed to be working well until a very plump woman with shocking pink hair squeezed herself into the aisle seat. At least no one was likely to try and sit between us. I rested my head on the window and hoped I’d be able to concentrate on my book for the flight home. I sometimes got the willies on airplanes. My legs would twitch, and I wouldn’t be able to sit still or concentrate. I dreaded flights like that.
“I wanted to warn you,” the pink-haired woman leaned over to me. “I sometimes have trouble controlling my shape-shifting at high altitudes. Don’t be alarmed if my hair changes color or my nose changes shape, okay?”
“Uh, okay,” I said. My luck, I’d gotten stuck with a loony. “How long have you been a shape shifter?”
“Oh, my whole life. I’m from another planet. It’s pretty normal there.”
Correction: I was stuck with an alien loony.
I focused on my book and had a good start on it when the alien shape shifter got up to use the rest room. I caught myself wondering if she could fit in the tiny airplane toilet and felt bad. Wasn’t fat one of the last acceptable prejudices? I should know better. I was mentally berating myself when she came back. I tried not to stare, but I could swear she was thinner, and her hair, while still pink, was several inches shorter.
She caught my look and smiled.
“I warned you,” she said. “I know it’s a bit startling if you aren’t used to it. I’m lucky I my hair didn’t go green or something. That’s happened before.”
“Why does this happen in airplanes?” I couldn’t believe I was calmly chatting about the problems of a shape shifter.
“Something about the change in pressure? I’m not sure myself. I’m not the only one to have trouble at high altitudes. Others have this problem too. It causes a lot of trouble, believe me.”
“What’s your name?”
“You can call me Madison. My alien name is unacceptable in English.”
“Can you say it for me?” This was getting curiouser and curiouser.
“All right, but I’m warning you, it’s rude.”
“No worries. I’m not easily offended.”
She whispered something.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that.”
“Fuckwitz,” she said. “It’s Madassa Fuckwitz. I told you it was rude.”
I used all my self control and didn’t burst into laughter, but I made a mental note to have a howl with Meg over Madassa Fuckwitz when I got home.
I didn’t comment when a while later Madassa “Madison” Fuckwitz disappeared into the bathroom and came back fifty pounds lighter and blue haired. I’d been warned.
By the end of the flight Madison was four inches taller and a hundred pounds lighter than when she got on the plane. Her hair was back to pink, but now it was the color of cotton candy and was cut in a smart little bob. I saw the stewardess give her a puzzled look as we exited the plane.
“Shape shifting alien,” I said as the flight attendant