The Mall: 03.21.10

Outside there was a fog. It was an early saturday morning. I needed to get the fast track, that is to say I needed to beat out the weekend vultures, the juggalos and the seniors. I planned accordingly and showed up promptly at 7:30 AM. The parking lot was empty, the attendant opening a rock chip repair tent being the only exception. Exiting the warmth of my cherry dual exhaust turbo charged 1975 El Camino the squeak of the ungreased door reverberated off the bleak stucco facade and within my car owner conscience. I noticed a purple Geo Metro pulling in on the south side of the JC Penney. Vulture. Far away, but close enough to ruined all that I had planned for.

I ran.

I ran like the fucking wind.

Breaking the fog and leaving a trail which filled in behind me like blood in a fresh wound. Nearing the handicapped slots I noticed a pebble had buried itself in the soul of my shoe under the rubber flap which, over time, had developed there. No Time. I could smell the Sbarro. I could see the Orange Julius. I was breathing the rubber and detergent scent cascading from the foot locker. I was nearly there. Reaching the door, I double checked. Yes, open 8-10…Saturday. I was still safe. It was 7:30 and 52 seconds by the digital register of my Iron Man.  I then waited with bated breath, my finger on the pulse, the fog beginning to burn off, in front of the glass doors for 29 minutes and 8 seconds.

I could tell the night crew had been there, there were no smudges on the glass above the brass hued steel handles. The snot and grease from toddlers and pesky elementary aged children had been wiped away like so many faded pictures. Then came the security guard. His pants had been pressed, though his casual sleevless dress shirt, adorned with badge and the name “Trevor” was not clean, had been worn before, exhibiting a stain, most likely cinnabon to the left above his butt in front. He extended his keys from the telescoping mechanism adorning his belt. He did not make eye contact, but he did cast me a smile of recognition. He recognizes the Ron Dog. I had pried the pebble from within the webbed rubber frame below my heel while I waited for Trevor. I thought of this as his keys penetrated the lock. Before the keys had finished a quarter turn I placed my clammy hand around the door handle worn dark from visitors. I would need to sanitize as soon as possible. But I cannot forget the task at hand.

The Geo meant Tony, the swisher sweet chain smoking army vet, would be waiting in front of Penny’s. I knew he would be bobbing from the ball of his right foot to the ball on his left. I have yet to figure this out, but noticed the morbidly obese constantly shifting weight from one foot to the next rather than distributing weight evenly. I could feel his shifting, it pulsed like a headache at my temples and like a earthquake at my feet. I knew mary would show up soon, with her god damned electric wheel chair, her husband in toe. After releasing the wheelchair from it’s rack on the back of their Buick he’d be mopping his brow right now with the patriotic cap he undoubtedly purchased at the seven eleven on high street. I couldn’t let them beat me. Not today. Never again.

The latch clicked, public decorum forced me to remain in wait until Trevor moved his lumbering frame and ponytail off the linoleum onto the carpet and out of my way before I could enter. He rotated, slowly, with a half smile, a wink and a nod. I breached the threshold. I bet Tony had guilted his way into Penney’s, most likely old rich, who had a soft spot for the vet, would’ve made small talk before official opening time, giving Tony, miniscule though it may have been, a head start. 

I hurried through the men’s department. Here at Macy’s it was relagated to the basement entrance. If I had entered from the north it would have been shoes. From the parking Garage, it would’ve been housewares. I quickly made my way past ties, wallets and belts, Polo, Nautica and passing the Levi’s was at the escalator. I’d been praying for stairs, but at this point, the basement entrance and the escalators were the best chance I had. The shortest distance to eclipse and, by my watch, the least amount of time, approximately 38 seconds. During the Holiday season, that is, November 15th through January 12th I am forced to adjust to avoid Santa’s workshop. Entering through the parking garage and through housewares, with little christmas foot traffic, is the best contigency plan. I skipped the last three steps of the escalator, lest my shoelaces become entrenched in the escalators gnashing teeth. I have prayed for the day when the remodel comes when we can be detoured to the stairwell. A remodel was just about due. There’s no science here, but by my calculations, it’s somewhere around every two years, adjusting for population, demand and current trends. Though with the downturn I fear we may be forced to wait. Recent weekends have been sparse, at least for mall standards.  Quickly passing through the jewelry cases, past Blanche the bleached out baby boomer constantly lamenting the death of the dreams hatched somewhere around 1976. I was darting through perfumes and I finally saw my destination

I entered the main thoroughfare it smelled of floor polish. The fluorescents glimmering on the linoleum made to look like marble or feldspar. Aunti-Anne’s quickly hit my olfactory center, but I wouldn’t be deterred from my task. The burnout who worked at lids was already meandering through my territory, large Starbucks Caramel Macchiato in hand, his fucking earrings dangling like truck nuts from his stretched and distending lobes. Though his foot prints pained me, I could see them on the polish like salt on snow in the eyes of a fingers crossed child, I had to let it go, there was nothing to be done, he worked here and thus had early access. I wanted to cradle his death in my arms, I wanted bleed him, squealing like a swine. I can’t dwell here. Someday maybe.

No sign of Tony yet, he must’ve gotten hung up in the JCPenney. I noticed that had a sale on all Cheetah brand merch, he tended toward the ease of sweats so I assume he lost in a world of surplus priced rainbow colored thick cotton. This meant I had done it. Mary and her husband had no chance. They knew it. I knew it. But not for lack of trying, I’m sure her vanity plate is swinging behind her as she spans the gap between the elevator and solid ground.

Oh my god!

What’s this?

Mary.

Her husband.

Rolling though the security terminals just behind me.

Jesus.

Fucking.

Christ.

I hesitated.

I’m going to have to increase my velocity. I’m so close. I am going to need gum. Fanny pack. Zipper. Juicy Fruit. Foil. Fold. Mouth. Chew. There it is! The spotlight is already hot, its glare this morning casts it in a holy white silhouette. He’s set in front of the wooden moldings, the earth tones, the windows displaying his graceful pastels.

Thomas I am here. It’s only cardboard, but I am propelled forward. I wait for this moment, all week. His mustache sits, combed, taught, symmetical above his smile. How such an amazing artist comes from such humble beginnings and can remain that way. It’s evident in his paintings. He’s our generation’s Normal Rockwell. The denim shirt. The jeans. His cinnamon hair.

I have to must make this quick. I must make it perfect. My week, my sanity hangs in the balance. Check for employees. Shannon. Wave. Smile. Look back at your computer Damnit. Good. Okay. You can do this Ron. No hesitation, no stutter step, three steps, touch and I’m on my way. Oh my God! I’m doing it, I’m touching Thomas Kinkade. Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my god!

As quickly as it began, it’s over. It was perfect. No one around. Just me and Mr, Kinkade. Now, as if it didn’t happen, walking away, cover your tracks. Cover your sent with laps. I should hit one hundred today at least, all of which basking in this moment, almost post coital in resonance, with Thomas Kinkade. If I am lucky, most likely not, but if I’m lucky, I may get one more shot, but I won’t be greedy, I won’t get caught. I’m too fast, even for security cameras. I may eat lunch at the Panda Express today.