Mall Mystery

The music is too much. We see the lights on the walls, the garland and tinsel on every ledge, the wreaths on every storefront sign. We see Santa with elves at the North Pole for Christ's sake. We’re already at the mall. We’re already surrendering our money and our Thursday evening. Do you have to rub it in by blasting the most cloying versions of these tunes that we've heard ad nauseam every December of our lives?

I was in the Christmas spirit on the way here. I was singing along with Sinatra. I couldn’t believe how bad Ella and Emma wanted me to bring them here.

I was still holding the door to let them in when Ella asked me where we should meet when it’s time to leave. Like I should have known they wanted nothing to do with me. They wouldn’t even stay for ice cream.

Begging to be allowed to buy someone over priced ice cream; only the parents of teenagers could ever understand.

“One scoop of vanilla and one scoop of whatever this red swirl is. Ummm, waffle cone. Oh, sprinkles? Sure. Thanks!”

Maybe that was just typical parent-teenager interaction. Maybe I should be satisfied. That was the longest conversation I've had with them since we told ‘em we were moving. 

They threw a fit, of course, but they were able to make friends immediately. Teenagers are the same everywhere. Betty didn’t have trouble either. Her social life revolves around courting clients. I’m the only one who hasn’t made any friends. I should have been the one who threatened to run away. I can't figure this place out. I can’t get the hang of the slow, easy rhythm of life. I can’t talk to people about what they’re doing ‘cause no one ever seems to be doing anything. Not that I spent much time with friends in the city. I was completely immersed in the job. 

I’ve only had three murders here. Fascinating cases but not one of them required a detective. Domestic, family affairs. The course of events in each case could be summed up in a sentence or two. I wrote pages on the motives. The chief finally stopped me from conducting interviews in the last case. “He told us exactly why he ran over his mother in law,“ she said. “There’s no mystery to solve.” I disagree. 

I’ve got two hours to kill. Might as well hit a few putts. They must have a sporting goods store. I’d ask one of these friendly folks but I only have two hours and that’s probably not enough time to sift through all the pleasantries to get the nugget of information. 

Sometimes I long to blend in with these easy going, vaguely happy folks, to mosey through life looking at pretty lights and feeling some kind of contentment. But today the masses are just moving too slow. Everybody's in everybody's way. I'm able to circumvent the worst of it by not smiling. It makes me invisible to their hyper social software.

My mind begins to quiet as I hear running water. I had made it to an opening with a big, multitiered fountain underneath a beautiful glass dome. I see four different paths to choose from. I wonder if I could deduce which path leads to the sporting goods store if I were to profile the people who go each way. How long might that take? After watching people for a half a minute I know with some certainty which way the food court is. The sound of running water drowns out my thoughts. My inner caveman is telling me that it’s okay to settle here next to a reliable source of water.

I sit at a bench next to the peaceful fountain to finish my ice cream. I appreciate the Christmas lights for the first time as they dance on the surface of the water. I feel at peace until I hear an urgent fluttering over the sound of the water. Something is flying over my head. I turn and see a humming bird of a black helicopter with prominent floats on its bottom. It hovers ten feet above the ground and seems to have locked onto something. I try to identify the target, hoping its not me. Then it starts to dip and sway drunkenly. It spins in place repeatedly. I look over and see a smiling kid holding a remote control and his father next to him, advising. The boy seems to be having the time of his life. They’re at a station where a young guy in a uniform is selling these drones.

As I wander over to have a look, the father gains enough confidence in his son's abilities to take his eyes off him. He turns and talks to the purveyor.  He must have just heard the price. He seems to have lost his enthusiasm as he returns to his son and talks him through a shaky landing. He hands the remote control over and they head off toward the sporting goods store. 

“Is it actually amphibious?” I ask the young guy.

“Yes, you can fly with this,” the employee responds with an Indian accent as he offers me the remote control. He didn’t really hear me but I didn't really care. He gave me the remote.

It handled remarkably well once I got the feel for the controls. I took it high enough to flirt with the tinsel and lights on the ceiling. I was curious to see if I could make a banner sway with the wind from the propellor. The drone salesman was walking over to me saying something but I didn’t want to look away. I flew it over above the fountain. I hovered for a moment and then made it dive into the water as precipitously as I could. There was a tremendous smacking and a good splash but the craft did not submerge. It made waves and clung to the surface. A cackle escaped me. The floats weren’t just a gimmick!

My laughter and smile made me visible for the first time to the masses. I could feel them stopping and looking. The salesman was using a lot of hands and talking loudly. He was closer to me than I would have preferred. I handed the remote control to him and started to move down the path toward the food court. I recognize one of the faces staring at me. It wasn’t eying curiously or smiling vaguely like the others. It was Ella and she was acting as a lookout.

I started moving closer to her but not exactly in her direction. I had to feign interest in one of the stores close to her, keeping her in my periphery. I’ll find out what her and her sister are up to.

I made my way excitedly to Ashford’s. Just a regular guy who can’t wait to shop at Ashford’s for-Damn! It’s a candle store. She’ll never buy it.

I spin around to look and I barely catch a glimpse of her flaming red hair as she turns a corner. I need to catch up before she gets to Emma. I try to maneuver my way through the slow smiling mass. I narrowly miss a giant of a man and his wife. Kids running sporadically. A baby stroller. They aren’t moving the way that I expect them to and I realize why. The mall’s got the density of a city and these aren’t city folks. They command more space than they have. When I turn the corner I realize they’ve made me lose her. Beat by my own kids. I’ll never get the hang of this place.

I give up the chase and look for a place to sulk. Whatever they were doing must have been significant, hopefully just boy stuff. I wasn’t always the most sensitive around Emma’s last boy friend.

I see a crowd gathering around a lady playing the piano. I hear an upbeat tune. She finishes and the crowd claps enthusiastically. A few people leave. I get as close as I can to her before she starts. The tune starts unremarkably with a plodding rhythm. But she keeps adding little flourishes and syncopated beats until I get the urge to dance. She seems to be dancing for me as she plays. The expressions on her face seem obscene and grotesque at first but the music explains them perfectly as they happen. The audience feels it too. They aren’t smiling. They’re too engaged to and entranced to be nodding or waving or showing deference to anybody.

She plays a number of tunes, each more interesting than the last. I feel nostalgia. I recognize something very familiar… Wait… Although it’s been said many times many ways merry Christmas…Have I been listening to freakin’ Christmas music this whole time?

“Hey dad. Are you ready?”

I turn and see the twins. “Yeah,” I say suspiciously, eying the bags in their arms.

“You didn’t get gifts for anybody?” Asked Ella?

“Oh, that’s what I should have been doing. Why’d you all leave me?“

“If we decided to get you something we didn’t want you to see it,” said Emma.

“You didn’t get me a candle did you?”

Ella laughed. We went home and had a merry Christmas.

They got me an amphibious drone.