MEET ME AT THE MALL-A Christmas Tale

 

Meet Me At The Mall

“Why are you wasting your life cleaning bathrooms at the mall?” This was the refrain Barney heard at least once a week from his mother. What his father thought about his job was a mystery, seeing as how dear old Dad had walked out the door when his son was ten.

He doubted Mom would understand his reasons even if he could articulate them. After watching her struggle to stay afloat but lose their home in the process, a reliable income, even if others looked down on how he earned it, meant a lot to him. For Barney, the answer was simple. Working in a bustling well-lighted environment provided a steady paycheck, and plenty of stimulation, as well as tangential human warmth.

Barney hadn’t excelled during high school, but he wasn’t stupid. Knowing that further education wasn’t on his horizon had given him the freedom to focus on things that caught his interest, like the concept of osmosis. When he was at work, surrounded by others, he imagined it happening in unique ways. He absorbed conversation fragments, tucking the more intriguing ones away in his subconscious to chew on later. He did the same with interesting physical features, like striking shades of hair color, unusual eyes, and lips.

It was unusual aspects of individual shoppers passing as he mopped or swept floors, and emptied trash cans that led him to his secret passion. After his mother went to bed, Barney would open a hidden box. It contained colored pencils and charcoal, drawing pads, and a small easel he’d found after someone at the mall art store tossed it.

Despite never having taken an art class, Barney knew he had talent. What he lacked was self confidence, so his growing stack of portraits, drawn from mental images of more intriguing shoppers, remained hidden under his bed.

Thanksgiving was approaching and Barney was entering the toughest stretch of the year. November and December always increased his stress level, as well as making him long for something he couldn’t quite name, but knew was real. He wasn’t alone. His mother, still dealing with sadness and betrayal at her husband’s abrupt departure the day after Thanksgiving eight years before, numbed her feelings by working every available shift as an aide in a nursing home.

This would be his first holiday season as a full time employee at the mall. He hoped for a couple things, a holiday bonus so he could buy his mother something nice, and that some of the seasonal joy and excitement might rub off on him.

He noticed her on Monday of Thanksgiving week when what he assumed was a chauffeur opened the door of a fancy car to let her out. His inner artist focused on several things as she hesitated before entering the mall. She had a unique shade of red hair, one he knew had to be natural. Her lips were slightly pursed as if she was about to speak a mysterious truth, and her eyes seemed to continually alternate between bewilderment and pained awareness. Barney busied himself by pretending to check for trash on the mall floor so he could study her as she wandered aimlessly. Something about her pulled him like a magnet.

By the time she exited the mall and was picked up by the chauffeur exactly three hours later, Barney had deduced the following. She wasn’t there to buy anything, she seemed to get lost in her own head a lot, and seemed a little like what the guidance counselors at his high school called ‘off.’

When he got home that afternoon, he made a sandwich and as soon as he ate it, pulled out his art supplies. Hers was the most striking face he’d ever seen. In fact by the time she’d left the mall, he’d coined the perfect description for her. She was close-up pretty. He doubted most who passed by her even gave her a second glance, but he’d more than made up for others’ disinterest, even to a point where he knew he’d slacked off on his work big time, something he’d never done before.

When the drawing was complete, he didn’t have the heart to hide it under his bed. Instead, he went to the basement and rummaged through the recycling until he found a large cardboard box. He cut off one side and returned to the apartment. When he’d finished, the mystery girl’s portrait gazed at him from a crude, but sturdy frame that hung above his dresser where he could see it while in bed.

He couldn’t stop glancing at it, wondering who she was and what went on behind those eyes. Would he ever see her again?

On Black Friday, he was working overtime when returned. This time, she appeared just after his supper break. Barney had ten minutes before he needed to start cleaning the men’s bathroom, so he followed at a discrete distance, hoping he might learn more about her. What he discovered was as puzzling as it was enlightening. She bought nothing, but dropped a twenty dollar bill in the Salvation Army kettle, blushing when the bell ringer thanked her profusely. She avoided looking at most adults except for an elderly man who was pushing a woman who Barney thought must be his wife. When the girl smiled at the woman, both their faces lit up and the man said something while patting her on the arm. When she saw a toddler or an infant, her look alternated between wistful and sad, almost as if she was reliving something from her own childhood.

Barney came away with a sense that the girl very much yearned for connection, but wasn’t quite sure how to reach out. It was a feeling he knew all too well.

When Barney got home, he found himself hurrying to his bedroom. He sat with his back against the headboard and looked at her portrait, letting his mind wander while he tried to understand what it was that she wanted so badly. He dozed off, still mystified, but determined to learn more. That is, if she returned. The thought of never seeing her again left him feeling empty inside until he had an inspiration.

She returned on Sunday and Barney was ready. She dropped more money in the kettle, smiled at a man who was missing his right hand, receiving a grateful smile in return, and tried to hide her wistful sadness several times when parents with small children passed her by.

When she wandered into the food court, leaving her jacket on the back of a chair, Barney made his move. She was ordering hot chocolate when he walked past the table and left a miniature copy of her portrait with “I see you” inside a smiling face on the back. He hurried to where the food court intersected with the mall and watched from behind a pillar when she returned to the table.

She started visibly when she saw her likeness, then turned it over and after reading his message, she looked around with the most hopeful smile Barney had ever seen.

After that, the girl came to the mall daily, usually in the afternoon, dropping money in the kettle, smiling at vulnerable adults, and watching little kids with a wistful smile. She would head to the food court, put her coat on a chair and walk over to order hot chocolate.

Barney knew she’d spotted him after he left a couple more mini-portraits, but was still afraid he might spook her if he approached directly. He sensed she was as curious as he was and when she finally caught his eye and smiled, he knew it was time. He walked slowly to where she was sitting, a different portrait in hand. He set it on the table and waited.

“I’d like that a lot,” she said, her voice so warm and rich, Barney found himself sitting before he knew it. He watched her look at the portrait, this time with both of them in it, before turning it over to find the heart he’d drawn with the words, “Everyone needs a friend, will you be mine?” inside it.