I had been following a pair of pants which I thought belonged to my mother. I’d been obediently following the pants around the Alderwood Mall for about fifteen or twenty minutes until I saw something I needed her to buy me. I was tugging on her pants like crazy, trying to get her attention.
“Mom!” I said. “Mom, I need this!”
The man whose pants I was pulling on looked down at me and, through a thick black beard boomed at me, “Kid, I am not your mom.”
Panicking, I stumbled backward from the man, light-headed and realizing I’d been following the wrong pair of pants.
The man, shaking his head at me, re-hoisted his beltline to its original height.
I set out to retrace my steps even though, all this time I’d been walking, I hadn’t been paying attention beyond how I hated the mall and was wasting my life hanging around various women’s departments with my mom and sisters.
I wondered, did I just will myself away from them? Did I just up and leave? Following the nearest pair of light blue jeans away from the young ladies back-to-school department?
At the mouth of Mervyn’s, I faced the open mall. I stepped out into the bustling corridor. There was a dazzling fountain with polished brass guard rails and water bubbling gaily over a sheet of rotten coins. I stopped at the towering sculpture of brushed steel in front of See’s Candies, trying to think. I gave its undercarriage a little slap and the looming metal structure shook like a deep drum, sounding somehow different.
I’d visited the Alderwood Mall several times before, this was my home turf, but I’d always come with my family. I’d never struck out on my own. Somehow I was exploring familiar territory for the first time.
I ventured beyond the echoing sculpture, passing the small boutiques and the food court with a group of older kids, draped across the tables and booths in the cafeteria like a renaissance painting.
A lady’s face appeared in front of me, perfume.
“Are you lost? You look lost.”
“I—I don’t know?”
Then mom, far away, shouting my name. I looked down the corridor, those pants—light blue with the gathered, elastic waistband—and my mom marching toward me, a security guard at her side. Suddenly, she had me by the shoulders and steered me aside. Through her lower teeth she hissed, “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?!”
The older kids in the food court perked up, intrigued by the ruckus.
Mom thanked the security guard who nodded and said something in his walkie-talkie. She thanked the lady who’d asked if I was lost.
“You’re his mom?” said the lady, suspiciously.
“Want to buy a kid?” joked my mom. “Thank goodness you found him, HAHA!”
And we were off. Me by the arm. Mom's pants, churning, back to JC Penny’s where my unimpressed sisters were waiting for us in the young ladies department.