Harrisburg

I wandered through the empty shopping mall. It was decorated for Christmas, but the all storefronts were dark, the security gates down. I looked for other shoppers, a maintenance worker, anyone who might help me exit the building, but the mall was vacant. Save for my own footsteps, the only sound I could hear was the worst holiday song ever recorded, on repeat.

I concentrated on finding my original entrance point. If I could find that, I could locate my car. I walked quickly, lapping the mall several times, only to find JC Penney in a different location each time. Fear followed this realization. While this nightmare was familiar enough, the stores usually stayed put and I eventually found the exit. I decided to go through the next JC Penney I came across.

As soon as I had that thought, a JC Penney materialized next to Ten Thousand Villages, exactly where it hadn’t been a moment before. I marched past unmanned perfume counters, through women’s shoes and lingerie, and then out of the store into the freezing night. Weirdly, the parking lot was full of cars, but none looked familiar. I dug a key fob out of my purse and pressed Panic. The entire lot started to beep, and the cars’ headlights flashed in unison at the snowflakes swirling in the air.

It was disorienting, but I became aware of another sound above the horns. It was a dull, repetitive tap, tap, tap. I zeroed in on the tapping sound and the car beeping lessened, and then disappeared. Tap, tap, tap. The wind died down. Tap, tap, tap.

I lifted out of the dream, out of that parking lot nightmare and woke to – another parking lot? I had been slumped against the driver’s side door and woke to the acute discomfort that comes with sleeping in a cold car. My left side was pins and needles, my mouth was dry, and my lashes were almost crusted shut. Tap, tap, tap.

A police officer was tapping lightly on the window glass. When I moved, the cop took a step back.

“Ma’am? You OK?”

I couldn’t fake a smile. I was not OK.

“Is there a reason you spent the night in your car?”

I considered this. “I’m lost,” I said.

“Where are you headed?”

“Um…” I didn’t have a destination in mind, exactly, when I first got in the car. I just knew that I had to leave where I was and be somewhere different. “Harrisburg?”

The cop nodded, unconvinced. “Start your car, please?”

The engine groaned, pitifully, and then fell silent.

“Car’s too cold,” said the cop. “Try cycling the key.”

I stared blankly, not computing, so the cop said, “Switch your radio, lights, heater, everything to the ‘off’ position so you’re not drawing energy from your battery and engine. Then try starting the car a few more times.”

I did as I was told, but the car wouldn’t start. The cop sighed and told me to pop the hood for a jump. Cables were dispatched and with a bit more effort, my car’s engine sputtered back to life.

“Put your window down, please?”

I pressed the down button, feeling ashamed as the cop took in my personal condition, and the condition of the car’s interior. There was a gas station coffee in the cup holder, frozen solid, and the few random belongings I had thrown in the back.

“License and registration, please?”

I hesitated. I had no plan, but if I did, it would not involve identifying myself to the police. Unfortunately, brain fog would not allow me to think of anything clever, so I rummaged mutely through the glove box and handed over my documents.

“Are you in danger, Ms…?”  The cop peered at my license. “…Harris?”

My face flushed. I gripped the steering wheel and squeezed my eyes shut, but it was no use; tears and snot coursed down my face.

“No,” I lied. “I just need to find…Harrisburg.”

The cop told me to stay put while she returned to her vehicle to check my documents. She came back a few minutes later and said that everything was in order, but I couldn’t spend any more nights in the mall parking lot.

“Of course,” I said, hurriedly putting my documents away.

“Can I give you directions to … Harrisburg?” The cop made air quotes with her fingers when she said Harrisburg.

Despite my misery, I laughed. “Maybe directions to a Dunkin’ Donuts, and then Harrisburg.” I used air quotes for Harrisburg, too.

“What, just because I’m a cop you assume I know where all the donut places are?”

“Oh…no, ma’am,” I said, mortified.

“Kidding,” she grinned. “I’m about to go on break. Follow behind me, there’s a Dunks about two minutes from here.”

She disconnected the jumper cables and got back into the patrol car. I followed her out of the mall parking lot and onto the main road. Before long I could see the Dunkin’ Donuts; its white and pink sign beckoned. We turned into the lot, and I parked next to her before following her through the entrance.

She waved me ahead of her so I could place my order first - a large latte with an extra shot, and a chocolate glazed. Some caffeine and sugar would set me straight. When the cashier asked for eight dollars, I realized that I had spent the last of my cash on gas. And I had no credit cards. Blood rushed to my face.

The cop spoke to the cashier. “Add a Boston Kreme and small plain coffee to that order, please. It’s on me.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You’re very kind.”

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Let’s get a table.”

We got our order and the cop sat silently, sipping her coffee, while I inhaled my donut, wishing I had ordered two. Reading my mind, she pushed the Boston Kreme across the table.

“This is going to cost me an extra twenty minutes at the gym,” she explained. “I would rather you take it, seeing as you’ve got a long drive ahead of you.”

I nodded and consumed the second donut more slowly, interspersing my bites with sips of latte.

The cop cleared her throat. “I don’t know your situation, Ms. Harris, and you don’t have to tell me, but I suspect that your life changed for the better when you got into your car yesterday.”

“It did,” I said. “At least, I hope it did. Didn’t feel that way last night.”

She leaned forward. “Are there any immediate problems I can help you solve?”

“I need to charge my phone,” I replied. “If it hadn’t run out of juice last night, I wouldn’t have gotten so lost on my way to…Harrisburg.”

“There’s a high-speed charge port in the patrol car,” nodded the cop. “We’ll get your phone charged in no time. Anything else?”

My eyes filled up again. I seemed to be running on sugar, caffeine and pure emotion. “I have no money,” I said.

The cop nodded sympathetically. “Wish I could help you there, but the department has strict policies. I can take you to a women’s shelter, if you want. You can at least get a decent night’s sleep, and eat something other than donuts…”

I shook my head. “Thank you, but I need to keep going.” A vague plan had formed in my head.

“Is there anyone you can call, once your phone is charged?” continued the cop. “An emergency contact?”

I grimaced. “My emergency contact is the last person on Earth I would contact, and even then, I wouldn’t call him.”

“No one else?”

I shrugged and finished my latte.

“I’m proud of you, Ms. Harris,” said the cop unexpectedly.

“Proud of me?” I cried. “You just met me half frozen in the mall parking lot, remember?”

The cop waved her hand. “I remember. Everyone goes through rough patches. But you had the courage to change your situation. Not everyone does that. Some people stay stuck their whole lives.”

“I was stuck for a long time,” I said.

“Save the confession,” smiled the cop. “You are now in the process of getting unstuck, that’s what counts. You’re very brave.”

To hear this declaration from a total stranger was bolstering. My mood lifted and I began looking at my situation differently. I wasn’t escaping something old and broken, so much as running towards something new and, hopefully, better. A fresh start.

“I have some rainy-day money hidden under the floor mat of my car,” I told the cop. “I just remembered.”

“See how smart you are?” she said.

A new calm settled over me. I sat up straighter and wiped my face with a napkin. “I’d like to repay you,” I said.

“Fuhgeddaboudit,” replied the cop. “You already have. Let’s get you to Harrisburg.”