- The Mall
- by Nancy Eddy
I don't like malls. I never have. They are too big, too noisy,
filled with people all intent on maxing out their credit accounts
as quickly as possible. The only redeeming value they have for
me is that they are a wonderful place to indulge my hobby of
people watching. I've been known to spend hours sitting, wandering
around, watching as people interact, watching their lives play
out with the background of "shop 'til you drop". I've
seen all kinds of people. The happy, obviously in love young
couple coming from the jewelry store, still gazing at the miniscule
diamond on her finger; the loud, brassy teenagers, going from
store to store; the bored fathers and husbands following their
wives and daughters through the halls. Happy, sad, bored, angry,
and not to forget, suspicious. Maybe that's why I spotted her.
I was wandering the aisles of WaldonBooks, browsing titles of
new releases, when I glanced across the way to see the young
woman wearing a huge coat. That wouldn't have been strange, but
almost everyone else in the mall was wearing shorts. Alright,
I told myself. It IS cold in here. They always seem to keep
the thermostats set low in these places. Maybe she's just sensitive
to cold.
But, as I watched, she looked around the store, her hand on a
book before her. Her dirty blonde hair fell over the collar of
the coat, and when her eyes moved in my direction, I quickly
pretended an interest in the book on ancient Egyptian culture
that I picked up. But as soon as I could, I slid my gaze back
toward her, just in time to see her lean forward, ostensibly
looking at a book on the top row. There was a slight rustling
in her coat, and then she turned and moved steadily toward the
exit. I waited for someone to stop her, to sound the alarm, but
they didn't. Before I knew it, she was through the doorway and
out into the main hall.
Putting down the book, I hurried to follow her, pausing in the
crowded walkway to look for her. I finally spotted her going
into a small clothing store. I followed, curious now, wondering
if she was going to do it again. Hiding behind a display of dresses,
I watched as she looked through the lingerie selection. Again,
she glanced around to make sure she wasn't being observed, then
lifted a pair of lace panties with her left hand as her right
hand stuffed something into a pocket. She left the store - again
without any attempt being made to stop her.
I considered going to the salesclerk who was busy with another
customer, but I knew that the young woman would get away before
I could explain. So I felt I had no choice but to keep following
her, to see how far she would go before someone else caught onto
what she was doing..
This time, she went into a jewelry store. Surely, I thought,
surely she won't try that here. There HAD to be cameras,
and security - but, before I knew it, she was holding a gold
chain that had been on display in an open rack. Her other hand
disappeared into her pocket. She'd done it three times. She had
to be stopped. I knew I had to do something. I approached the
counter, but the all the clerks were busy with other people.
Before I could get a clerk's attention, the girl was gone again.
I went after her, this time catching up to her. "Miss -"
She turned, eyes wide. "Yes?"
"I saw what you've been doing -"
"I don't-"
"You've been shoplifting. I have to take you to the police,"
I told her.
The girl backed around a corner as tears appeared in her eyes.
I followed, not wanting to lose her now. "No, please. You
don't understand. They'll put me in jail. For a long time. I
won't do it again," she promised, taking the coat off and
holding it out. "Here. You take the things back for me,
okay? I'll leave the mall and won't come back." Apparently
she saw my hesitation. "I'm only sixteen. It was a prank.
That's all. It won't happen again."
I took the coat. "All right. I'll take the stuff back. Do
I have your word that you'll never do anything like this again?"
She nodded. "I mean, if someone else had seen you, they
wouldn't be this nice about it."
"I promise," she said solemnly, then turned and moved
toward an exit.
As I came back into the main hallway and turned toward the jewelry
store, I saw three security guards approaching me. Glancing around,
I realized that the girl was nowhere to be seen. Smiling, I greeted
the men. "Hello. I was -"
"Can we see your coat, ma'am?" the first guard asked,
his eyes glittering.
I held it out to him. "It's not mine," I began, as
he pulled the necklace, flimsy underwear, and book from inside,
along with several other small items that the girl had apparently
taken before I'd seen her. "It belongs to-" I pointed
in the direction the girl had gone, knowing the story sounded
as flimsy as those bright red underwear that the guard was holding.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said. "I'm going to have
to ask you to come with us."
Did I mention that I don't like malls?