The Woman

Before pulling into the lot, the woman in the lime green car pauses outside the toll booth.  This is the first time she’s taken her foot off the gas since getting into the car, which she stole in an impulsive moment from a small driveway fifteen minutes from here.  The woman does not regret stealing the car; she feels exhilarated and filled with adrenaline. She wants to do more.  She grips the steering wheel and presses her foot heavily onto the pedal, speeding through the ticket gate and whirling into the lot, almost killing a man walking past her.  She does not bother to check if he’s been hurt as she crookedly pulls into a spot, pushes open the door, and nearly trips over her own feet as she climbs out. She looks at the car and wonders why she picked this one to take.  The hideous lime green colour stands out next to the whites, blacks, and greys of the lot. She shrugs and walks with her head down to the revolving glass doors at the front of the mall, pushing her way into them with surprising force.  The freezing blast of air conditioning startles her, and she squints her eyes as she looks around the fluorescently-lit building. As she stares at the different groups of people, she wonders where she should go and what she should do. A crowd of men hovers around the entrance, and for just a moment, she wishes she had someone with her, a travelling companion of sorts.  The feeling passes and she turns her attention to the escalator moving up, which currently contains a young couple, an elderly woman, and a droopy looking man. She is wary as she steps on and lets it carry her to the second level. When getting off, she immediately takes a left. The four other people have already turned right, and she does not want to follow them. She walks past shoe stores and jewellery shops and gaming outlets, keeping her eyes on the black and white tiles underneath her feet that become dirtier with every step.

The woman walks for three hours.  She spends much of her time in the restroom, walking back and forth along the sinks, pacing.  Walking into and out of the bathroom gives her a sense of comfort, so when the mall gets too overwhelming, she finds her way back and sits on the countertop for a few minutes.  The fifth time she exits the bathroom, she goes to take a left as usual, but sees commotion coming from that direction. She cautiously takes another step towards the group of people, and sees that someone has spilled their coffee.  The woman scoffs in disgust and turns the other way instead. She walks quickly, with a sense of purpose, though she is not yet sure what that purpose is. Suddenly, she stops. She is at the food court. The smell of grease and breath fills the air around her and she moves her head from side to side as she surveys the people around her.  A little girl with a pale pink shirt and a matching pink bow in her curly hair is standing outside the ice cream stand. She appears to be dazed as she pushes the last bit of an ice cream cone into her mouth. The little girl smiles to herself and stands with her hands resting on her stomach, which pokes out from the bottom of her t-shirt.  The woman does not think. She walks over to the little girl and reaches down for her hand, which the curly headed child takes. The woman makes a face as she discovers the girl’s hand is sticky, filled with bright blue ice cream that only a five year old could enjoy. She looks down at the girl, who looks back up at her and opens her mouth as if to make a noise.  The woman widens her eyes and makes the smallest movement with her head. The girl closes her mouth and squeezes the woman’s hand, and the two begin to walk away from the ice cream. They have barely taken two steps when a teenage boy comes running into them, almost spinning the little girl off her feet. The three of them look at each other in a standstill for what feels like an hour, until a security guard walks over and raises his eyebrow at the boy, who takes off.  

The woman glares at the guard and turns toward the escalator.  Still gripping the girl’s hand, the two of them step onto the moving staircase.  People point at the little girl and smile, waving at her and attempting to make her laugh.  The woman is horrified. She wants them to stop. She puts her hands on the girl’s head and turns it away from them.  How dare they mock her? The little girl does not make a sound. They reach the end of the escalator and push through the revolving doors, subjecting themselves to the humidity as everything seems to slow down.  They begin to walk across the parking lot, and the little girl points at everything she sees. She giggles at a dog; at a red balloon floating upwards. The woman is not impressed and pulls her more quickly across the lot.  They reach the boxy green car and the woman shakes off the girl’s hand, climbing into the driver’s seat. The girl stands there staring at her expectantly. They look at each other for a moment before the woman grabs her by the waist and pulls her over the middle of the seat.  The girl scrapes her leg on the centre console and begins to cry. The woman pushes her into the passenger seat and glares. She carefully backs up the car and very, very slowly pulls out of the lot. The girl sniffles and stops crying, and the car pulls onto the highway. The woman sees the girl turn her tiny body in the seat and look behind her, at the mall shrinking in the background, and for the first time, the woman smiles.  The girl is with her now, and nobody knows.

The Man

The man with the heavy leather jacket sighs as he pulls into his usual parking spot.  He briefly closes his eyes in a sort of slow blink and removes the keys from the ignition.  As he walks across the lot, all he can think about is the blazing heat of the afternoon beating down on him, and wonders if taking the morning shift would have been better.  He meanders, shuffling, barely moving his feet as he walks with a heavy head toward the entrance. A lime green car skids past him, and he is grateful for the breeze, a break in the stifling humidity. He gives no notice to the fact that the car almost killed him — he sole focus is finding his way inside.  Muscle memory tells him when to pick his feet up for the curb; when to hold his arm out for the revolving door. He gets inside, where the air conditioning hits him like a wall, and finally looks up. Giving a halfhearted nod to the men at the door, he walks to the escalator and allows it to carry him up, savoring this moment of peace.  He gets to the top of the stairs and takes a right. He stumbles along for several seconds, pulling quarters out of his pocket and wondering if he’ll have enough for an iced coffee. Upon arriving at the food court, he takes his time on his way over to the coffee stand and gives a small greeting to the teenage girl behind the counter, sliding one bill and a handful of change across to her.  She hands him his drink, and as he takes it, he wishes he could have the luxury of enjoying a day of shopping just like everyone else. Sipping his coffee, he checks to make sure his holster and belt are in place. He is tired, burnt out, and miserable, but a paycheck is a paycheck, and by guarding the people of the mall, he can collect his money at the end of the month.

For the next three hours, he stands.  He can feel the blood pooling in hs feet, but he is used to it.  He shakes his legs, walks a loop around the foot court, and then resumes position behind the pretzel stand.  He stands with his legs wide apart, his hands on his hips. His coffee is long gone, but his mouth is dry and for the hundredth time, he wishes he were elsewhere.  He is too exhausted to curse or make a complaint, so instead he focuses on his eyelids, keeping them open for as long as possible before giving in to a lethargic blink.  He trains his eyes to the clock on the wall, watching every second tick by. He shakes his legs again; rubs his eyes. He tries pinching himself, but he knows it is unlikely to wake him up any more.

He imagines where he would go if he weren’t confined to this corner.  He looks to the pretzel stand, where a young couple walk away sharing a salty twisted knot, appearing more interested in the food than each other.  He shifts his gaze beyond them, to the smoothie bar, where the line is growing longer every minute, containing people with varying levels of patience painted on their faces.  He looks at the ice cream stall, where a young girl holds a blonde woman’s hand. The girl seems unfazed, her face covered in sticky ice cream. The woman appears distraught, pulling the small child’s hand so roughly that almost as soon as the man locates them, they disappear.  He looks to the vending machine, where a banging noise is coming from a teenage boy kicking the side. He rolls his eyes and continues to scan. The noise gets louder, and he looks back to the vending machine just as the boy has gripped the edges and is slamming his foot into the bottom.  The man sighs and begins to make his way over. As he approaches, the boy runs away, looking over his shoulder, and crashes into the young woman and child with ice cream on her face. He approaches them, and the woman freezes, staring at him as though he had not simply run into them but had severed the head of her child. Her eyes go wide and her body stiffens, and it is not until the boy has run off again that she visibly relaxes. The man gives them a nod and walks back to his post.  He takes no note of the fact that as they walk away, the little girl reluctantly follows the woman, looking over her shoulder the entire time.

The Girl

Her hand feels like play-doh as she reaches down to grab the little girl’s hand.  Warm and dirty, the girl is at first repulsed. She looks up at the body connected to this hand and sees that it is a strange woman.  A tall, young woman with long, frizzy blonde hair and an angular face. The girl opens her mouth to say something, but the woman gives the slightest shake of her head and widens her eyes.  The girl is intrigued. She wipes her sticky fingers on her shirt and gazes up. The woman’s bony face is almost manic, and the girl has to tilt her head all the way back to look at her. The two of them stand there for a moment, clutching hands, staring at each other.  Before she realizes it, the little girl is brought a few feet away from the ice cream stand where her mother stands, paying and chatting to the man behind the counter. It’s okay, she thinks. I’ll see her soon.

The woman and girl are slowly beginning to walk away when they are hit with full force.  They turn around to see the teenage boy who has run straight into them. The little girl smiles at the boy, who wears a baseball cap with team’s logo on the front.  She looks up to check if the woman sees it too, but is surprised to see her staring at him as if he was carrying a bomb. She wonders why she looks so scared. The woman squeezes the girl’s hand until her knuckles pop against each other, and the boy’s eyes flicker between the two of them as he looks more and more embarrassed.  Just as the little girl begins to worry, a big man in a dark security uniform walks up to them. The boy sees him and runs away, but the woman’s eyes do not leave him until he darts into another store. The security guard asks them if everything is alright, and the woman just stares at him with glassy eyes. The girl looks between the woman and the man, and the man gives them a slight nod before walking the other direction.  The woman grasps the girl’s hand even more tightly and brings her to the top of the escalator. They stand there for a moment before stepping on and letting the moving steps bring them down. People smile at them while they stand, wave to the little girl and give knowing looks to the woman they think is her mother. The little girl gives shy smiles back and wonders why the woman is glaring with such a look of disgust. The woman reaches down and turns the girl’s head away from the people, and the girl is confused.  She attempts to look back at the people, but her efforts are in vain; the woman does not allow this. The two climb off the escalator and push their way through the spinning glass door. The humidity hits them like a wall as they exit the mall and the girl smiles up at the sun, but the woman is not smiling. The girl’s face falls when she sees this, and begins to try to make the woman laugh. She points out a dog she sees on the sidewalk, then a stray balloon that slowly grows smaller as it disappears into the sky.  To her disappointment, the woman is not impressed and quickens her pace as she drags them across the lot. They approach a lime green car and the woman opens the driver’s side door. She gets in and fastens her seat belt, then looks over at the little girl expectantly. The girl does not know what to do. Her lip begins to tremble as she worries she is disappointing the woman. The woman furrows her brow and picks up the little girl by her arms, pulling her through the door, across her lap, and pushing her into the passenger seat.  

The girl scrapes her leg on the cupholder between the two seats and begins to cry.  She asks the woman if she is taking her home. The woman does not answer. The car backs out of the spot and the woman slowly drives out of the lot.  The little girl has never seen anyone drive so slowly, and the confusion momentarily stops her tears. As they turn onto the highway, the little girl looks out her window to see the mall disappearing behind them.  The little girl wonders what her mother is doing right now, and if she’ll wait for her to return. She starts crying again and turns to the woman, hoping she will bring her back. She sees the look of uncertainty painted across the woman’s face and once again, her tears stop.  She wonders if her own mother even misses her; surely she would have come looking for her if she did. She sniffles and wipes her eyes. She gazes out the window and can no longer see the mall in the background, leaving any hopes of being found diminishing along with it. She reaches her tiny hand up to the bow in her hair and pulls it out.  She rolls the window down and the woman turns to glare at her, but she doesn’t care as she tosses the bow into the wind. There, Mom.  She says to herself.  For you.