Lost Corridors

by Shauna Checkley

Moira entered the vast expanse of Polo Park Mall with the sun at her back and the air as fresh as a new thought. The front entranceway was busy. People. Strollers. Guide dogs. Everything. She went in and was soon walking down one of the long main corridors.

It was ornate with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, detailed, marble inlaid columns, greenery in oversized, metallic pots and a Monarch butterfly motif all about.

Moira smiled. That faint smile that others who knew her well were familiar with. She always enjoyed her outings anywhere but to the mall especially so. She loved the newness, that keen sense of mission while wasting time in a colorful playland, though she generally came with a purpose in mind.

The crowds were at their peak. Being mid-afternoon, it was lunch hour plus. Groups of teenagers loitered about. Families, looking either strained or bored, passed by her as effortlessly as time itself. All was discovery and delicate restraint. All was life in the slow lane.

Moira sniffed the air which was lightly perfumed. Looked around. Then she realized she was simply moving with no destination in mind. Had I come here for something? she wondered as she walked along. Had I really? Then for what?

Moira stopped and leaned against a tall pillar. To passersby, she would have appeared like any other of the late middle-aged women that dotted the interior. Dressed in all gray, she nearly blended away in fact.

What had I come here for? She shook her head slightly. She frowned. She thought hard. Nothing. Her mind was as empty as a blank slate. Maybe it will come to me later.

She continued to walk along the corridor. Before she knew it, she was again part of that large, scattered crowd that poured down the hallways like modern hunters and gatherers, wandering nomads.

Passing by a huge storefront that was plastered with sale signs, Moira read the words that jumped out at her. Bargain! Sale! Clearance! BOGO! Red Hot Giveaways! 2 for 1 Bonus! Everything must go! It was like the huge department store was thinking aloud, bleeding emotion.

Could I have come for this? Maybe? She did only buy on sale after all. But it did not jar any memory in her. Still, she went inside.

Gracie’s Department Store was as pedestrian as ever. It was awash in marked-down prices; huge floor bins filled with everyday items. Random shoppers stopped to appraise the items in the bins.

Moira blinked. She was uncertain of the whole matter but checked out the bins, nevertheless. Maybe I’ll see whatever it was that I came here for!

Feeling hopeful, she began to dig through the bargain bins. Slipper socks. Bath bombs. Paperbacks. Hard candy. Cushions. Nothing rang a bell. Unlike the words that had jumped out just moments ago, the items sparked no recognition in her.

Moira dropped back into the bin a plush cushion she had been holding. She frowned.

Then she walked out to the corridor, joined the mass of humanity that was roving noisily along. Well, it’ll come to me later. I’ll just be patient, that’s all.

She strode along in that sea of flesh. Turning down a side hallway, she got a full-frontal blast of the savory smells coming from the food court ahead. Her stomach rumbled.

Maybe that’s it! Maybe that’s why I came to the mall, to get a bite to eat?

Feeling a sudden desire to partake, Moira stood in line at Peppy’s Pizza. The line was rather long and slow-moving. Moira heard her stomach gurgle in complaint. When she finally made it to the front counter, Moira said, “I’ll have the vegetarian, please.”

She watched as a swarthy looking man — possibly Peppy? — with large hairy knuckles and gold rings on nearly every finger served her. “That will be ten dollars, please,” he said, smiling as he spoke.

There was a softness in his eyes and tone that suggested that he was familiar with her somehow. But Moira wracked her brain and couldn’t remember. So, she opened her purse and fumbled through it. There was only a pack of Dentyne gum and a Kleenex in it.

She blushed in confusion and hurried away.

She was glad to be back amongst the anonymous crowd looming along the corridors. It allowed her to blend in, disappear away. Hide even. Lose herself as easy as a fleeting thought.

I couldn’t have come here to eat, what with no money and all. So, I can rule the food court out... But then why am I here. It’s not like I could shop, either, without funds. That leads me back to my main question. Why in hell’s bells am I here, then?

Her forehead was furrowed and shone under the bright overhead lighting. That signature smile had been replaced with a frown. She continued to stumble blindly along.

Moira felt a terrible beauty all about her. She saw model-looking youth carrying colourful bags, like they were perfect packages themselves. The ambience that was both purposeful and relaxed, a great body, a herd unleashed.

Now, I just need to figure out why the hell I am here. That’s all.

But then she caught that notion, corrected it in mid-thought. Maybe that’s the whole point of coming to the mall cashless. Maybe I just came for a stroll, to people watch, to hang out. Who knows? Moira exhaled. She felt better. She took great comfort in that idea. She loped along.

Overhead, pop tunes were lightly piped through speakers. Madonna. Dionne Warwick. Moir... began to hum along. She thought that she recognized the tune.

Then, fortunately enough, a sense of peace overtook her. She knew that she had been particularly forgetful lately, absentminded, even. But that comes with the territory, doesn’t it? She believed as much.

She was getting older. Some of her friends and family were slowly dying off, even. It was just part of life passing. That’s all. How old am I again? Fifty-eight... Or fifty-nine? Something like that... Not sure anymore...

When her legs grew heavy from walking, Mo... looked for somewhere to sit down. It was difficult, however. The mall was busy, and most of the benches were taken. But then she spotted a single-seater near a large Monarch butterfly statue. She hurried to it and plopped happily down.

M... was content. Though it would have been nice to have a coffee, she was pleased otherwise. Should have brought some money along... Ah, well...

She studied the nearby statue. Large and looming and colourful, it was a butterfly inflight. So pretty... So fanciful...

But then her eyes fell on the oversized mirror behind it. She saw a woman in all gray sitting, some woman in midlife. She looked and seemed familiar. Now who is that again? I know her. I’m sure I do. Just what is her name?

She racked her brain for an answer. But nothing came. And slowly that sickened feeling of panic, that same untoward sense returned.

She flinched in her seat. Stifled a scream. Listened to the hollow patter of high heels on the tiles. Watched as the herd of the human condition passed her by.