The Woman Who Fell To Earth

Chapter 5

Arthur looked at himself in the full length mirror. He was astounded at what he saw. This was not lonely Arthur Dottweiler, born loser. This was Art Dogwater, newly reborn, friend and confidante to the one and only David Bowie. "Wow," he whispered under his breath. He watched in the mirror as David stood next to him, linked her arm in his, and leaned her body in against his. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of her body, felt the delicate bones leaning against him, and reveled in it.

"You look great, Art," she said quietly. "You are going to wow them tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" said Art. "Let's go out now."

David raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Yes, let's go out!" She promptly let go of Art and went back into the living room to search for shoes. She strapped on a pair of platform sandals in white patent leather. "You know what I need? Makeup. I guess they don't sell secondhand lipstick." She searched through the tables and desk drawers and collected a black felt tip pen, a blue and yellow highlighter and a blue ballpoint pen. She took the instruments with her to the bathroom and painted her eyes. Yellow highlighter swept under her brows, blue highlighter on her eyelids. She lined her upper and lower eyes with the black felt tip pen, swooping exaggerated cat eyes at the corners. She took the blue ballpoint pen and scribbled a little cat face on the crease of her eyelid. She unscrewed the cap off a tube of toothpaste and squeezed a dollop of mint blue on her fingertip which she proceeded to swipe over her lips in lieu of lipstick. Back in the living room, she tied three scarves of different colors and patterns – psychedelic, plaid and floral – together and wrapped them around her throat and draped them through her arms. "Where to?" she asked.

Art realized he didn't know any good places to go in the city. He rarely went out anywhere that wasn't necessary. His favorite places to eat were nothing that would intrigue David. "We could go back to that club from the other night?" he suggested.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed David. "And it's a perfect place to try out the new and improved you."

They walked to the club, Art walking noticeably taller, looking people in the eye. He couldn't believe how many people walked these streets. The club was sparse, the volume down, but it was a weeknight, and it was early for a club. The bartender spotted them right away, with recognition in his face when he spied David. He spoke up immediately. "I'm sorry, I still don't have any cow milk back here."

"That's not a problem," answered David. "It doesn't sit well with my mate, here, anyway. We'll have two gins, please."

Art winced. "Gin?" he questioned.

"Come on, Art," said David. "Learn to live a little. Loosen up, chap." She turned back to the bartender. "You can put a splash of 7-Up in his."

The bartender handed them their drinks. They leaned their backs against the bar, sipped their drinks and watched the people. There were not many to watch. Suddenly the door swung open and in walked a crowd of young people all wearing the same colors, like they were coming from a cult or a sports game. Bryce with the beard and man bun was among them. He spotted David immediately and sidled up to her.

"Hey gorgeous," he said loudly, the stink of beer wafting out of his mouth. "Remember me?"

David fanned her hand in front of her face. "No," she said simply.

"Aw, come on," argued Bryce. "You were here with that guy."

"Me?" asked Art.

Bryce looked at him. "Nah, she was with some older guy."

"Me," said Art.

Bryce looked at him some more. "Nah, it was like her dad or something."

Art smiled. He tried not to laugh. "She was with me," he said. "Bryce, right? It's me, Art."