I’m standing outside the hospital in my costume, feeling like an idiot, waiting for Mags and Neel to drive up. Carole and I spent the afternoon decorating Mom’s hospital room. We hung orange-and-black streamers and placed a few battery-powered jack-o’-lanterns around the room. I found a Halloween music mix that I played from my phone on low volume while we decorated. Most of the nurses were accommodating, stepping over the decorations and looking the other way when we broke a few hospital rules. Some even played along, saying Boo! when they entered the room and helping themselves to handfuls of candy from the trick-or-treat bowl. I hope this means they will look the other way on the two-visitors-at-a-time rule for about half an hour.
It’s unusually warm for the end of October and I’m sweating in the heavy wool suit and tie I borrowed from Dad. It’s way too big on me, and I don’t expect anyone will guess who I am dressed up as, but it’s the best I could do. It’s not long before Neel pulls up with Mags’ hand waving from the passenger-side window. They get out of the car to show off their costumes. Neel is also in a suit and tie, but he has an awful fake reddish-brown mustache taped to his upper lip. Mags’ costume is way cooler than ours.
“Tada!” she says, as she jumps out of the car. “What do you think?”
“Awesome,” I say enthusiastically. Mags is dressed in an all-black jumpsuit with a black scarf and a big blonde wig. But the awesome part of her costume is the plastic robot mask covering her face.
“Who am I?” she asks.
“You’re a fembot. We’ve already talked about who is dressing up as who.”
“Yes, I know, but, who…am…I?”
I ponder this for a minute then get giddy with excitement. I jump up and down when I figure it out.
“Omigod! You’re Callahan! You’re fembot Callahan.”
Mags takes a bow. “At your service.”
I pull her into an embrace, overcome with emotion.
“Thank you for doing this for Mom!”
“This is super fun for me. How many episodes of The Bionic Woman did we watch with your mom over the years? And you know I love that Callahan was not merely Oscar Goldman’s personal secretary; she was also a fembot! And fembot Callahan was ass-kicking fierce! So, you better watch out or she might kick some Oscar Goldman ass if he doesn’t treat his secretary with the respect she deserves!” She strikes a karate pose and Neel and I laugh.
I reach out to shake Neel’s hand. “Dr. Rudy Wells, I’m Oscar Goldman.”
Neel shakes my hand and says, “I still don’t get why you’re Oscar and I’m Rudy. Oscar is tall like me, and Rudy is short like you. This makes no sense.”
“Well, Oscar Goldman is Jewish, and I’m Jewish, so that’s why. Plus, I have these awesome seventies glasses and you don’t.” I smirk.
“Simon, you got those glasses from the costume shop. It’s the same place where I got my mustache.”
Neel is still talking, but I’m not listening. Strutting up the sidewalk in a red Adidas tracksuit is PJ dressed as none other than Steve Austin, the Six Million Dollar Man. I melt.
The zipper on PJ’s jacket is pulled all the way down to his belly button to reveal a rug of fake hair glued to his chest. He mock-runs in slow motion and makes the bionic running sound. I can’t take it. I’m overwhelmed with how everyone has embraced my A Very Bionic Halloween idea for Mom. Plus, PJ looks so damn cute. I have to kiss him now! I have to…
Unfortunately, Mags and Neel beat me to him and have their hands all over PJ’s chest. They stroke his fake chest hair and PJ grins like an idiot, clearly loving it.
“This may sound weird coming from a lesbian, but I kind of love this,” Mags says.
“I want chest hair just like this,” Neel says.
“Hey, hey. Enough of that. If anyone gets to play with PJ’s chest hair, real or not, it’s me. Move aside.” Neel and Mags step out of the way, and I throw my arms around PJ’s neck and give him the most lingering kiss we have shared to date. All is right in the world, and I can’t help but think there is no way that Mom won’t wake up for this. No way! She has to; she just has to.
Mags cracks open the door to the women’s bathroom and sticks her mask-wearing head into the hallway where PJ, Neel, and I wait.
“Okay, are you ready to be blown away? Close your eyes. Come on, Neel, you too, close your eyes.”
“Okay, my eyes are closed,” I hear Neel say.
The bathroom door opens, and I hear someone shuffle toward us. “Okay, you can open your eyes now,” Mags says.
Right in front of us, looking proud as can be, is the bionic woman herself—Jaime Sommers.
“Wow! Carole, you look just like her. This is amazing; I can’t believe it!” I say. From her white sneakers and bell bottom jeans to her sandy-blonde wig, Carole has been transformed. A white zippered top with colorful stripes finishes off the iconic look.
“Where on earth did you find the top?” I ask.
