Inoffensive chart-topping pop music still played from speakers far overhead, loud now in the empty mall. Shopping bags were scattered. Strollers sat empty. Black rectangles reflected the fluorescent lights—phones. Lorraine peered out from the narrow side passage that had led to the restrooms. The line she had waited in was gone, purses left in a queue of their own. She knelt near one of the phones, but it was off. One-by-one she checked the ones nearby. All of them were dead, including the one in her fanny pack.
Gregory’s walker and leather bag was there, too. Her old man couldn’t have gone anywhere in a hurry. She called his name softly at first then mustered the courage to use her teacher voice. It would have sent her kids running from the recess lot, but her yell did nothing but reverberate through the wide halls. She shook off the needling feeling in her gut and took stock of her surroundings. She fished out a beige pill and swallowed it dry. It helped to quell the tremors in her hands.
All of the bags looked to have been dropped, not set down. A few sat upright, but most had tipped over and spilled some of their smaller contents. Some of the phones were cracked, mostly the ones not in some sort of case. The lights and air conditioning were still on, and she hadn’t noticed it flicker off in the restroom. She wasn’t sure enough about how generators worked to know if she’d notice the switch. She wished Gregory were around, he’d rattle on about them for the rest of the day if she asked.
The stores were empty. Registers hung open, bills left on the counter. Cheerful chimes continued to play when she passed into boutiques. A burnt smell hung in the air, and she found its source. Lorraine walked behind the counter of the coffee stand and found a sandwich press with rivulets of smoke issuing forth from it. It took her a moment, but she found the off switch and spared the panini any further burning.
She wandered. The food court was equally bereft of life. She took a while to shut off all of the stoves and hot plates, hoping something might change while she did. A scolding from a security guard or employee coming back from break would have been preferable. She kept glancing over her shoulder, waiting for the footsteps that never came, waiting for the squeak of Gregory’s walker as he asked her what the hell she was doing. After overcoming some internal guilt at stealing, she made herself a small plate of lo mein and a diet coke.
Lorraine did not want to go outside. She had avoided the overlook and windows. If the same was true out there, she didn’t know if she could take it. Something was bending in her, and she feared it would break. She busied herself with cleaning. Bags were set upright. Spilled dollars returned to cash registers. Products placed back on shelves. The lights continued to buzz. Music kept playing.
Soon, the sun that streamed through skylights darkened. It made the place look more artificial. After a while, she had closed her mind to it all, focusing solely on the next chore before her. It would take days to get the place somewhat in order. When Lorraine had worn herself out, she found the mattress store and made a bed for the evening, hopeful that she would wake to the world that had left her behind.
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