“Okay, then how about that one?” she asked. Charlotte pointed to a frilly pink dress that should have belonged in a nursery rhyme. It was paired with a big fancy white hat.
“With or without the hat?” I asked.
“With.”
“Ugh.”
“What will it be?” the clerk asked.
“Alright, if I try the one with the chaps, it’s just between you and me, okay, Charlotte?”
“Absolutely.”
The cowboy nodded. He retrieved the outfit in my size and then handed it to me. I held the garments awkwardly as I stepped into the dressing room.
As I shed my clothes piece by piece I willed myself to look at and appreciate my reflection. Not long ago I had despised looking into the mirror. All I saw were my flaws when I did. Since I’d been working through my bucket list, I’d gotten closer and closer to feeling secure and even proud of the way I looked. I was getting to know my body in ways that I didn’t think were possible—that included learning to love the way it looked in the mirror.
As I adjusted the corset, I thought about Charlotte. I was proud of myself for doing as she asked and trying the outfit on. I hoped that it showed her that women of all sizes could wear anything they chose to. Although, this particular outfit was not something I would normally choose to wear. Once I had wrangled it on, I turned to look in the mirror again.
I tugged the corset a little tighter. It really did give me a little bit more of a shape. I certainly wouldn’t want to wear one, though, as tight as it was. The leather panties were snug as well. The chaps were rather fun. I felt a little uncomfortable, but as I gazed in the mirror I didn’t look as ridiculous as I’d expected to. In fact, I might even say that I looked good.
For the heck of it I snapped a picture of myself in the outfit. Then I tried a different pose, then another. Pretty soon I had worked up a sweat. When I went to pull off the panties and change back into my clothes, it seemed as if they had shrunk. I couldn’t get the band down over my hips, no matter how hard I tried.
“Miss? Are you okay in there?” the clerk asked.
I shoved at the panties. They wouldn’t budge. I tried to loosen the corset, but I had tightened it so much that I couldn’t get to the ties to loosen it. I was starting to panic.
“Miss?” he asked.
“I’m stuck,” I said. I knew my voice was probably too quiet to be heard.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asked. His voice was so loud that I was sure everyone in the store had heard it—if not the mall.
“I’m stuck,” I said again. “I can’t get the outfit off.”
“What?” he asked. “I mean, I heard you. But how did that happen?”
“I’m not in the mood to give you a detailed explanation,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll get some scissors,” he said.
Chapter 5
After a moment the sales clerk returned and knocked lightly on the door to the fitting room. “Got them.”
I opened the door slightly. He started to pull the door open all the way.
“Stop!” I said. “What are you doing?”
“I was going to help you.”
“No thank you, I can do it myself.”
“Are you sure? It might be difficult to maneuver.”
“I’ll be fine.” The sharpness in my voice matched the sharp edge of the blades on the scissors. I snatched them from his hand and closed the door once more. I tried to slip the scissors between my waist and the corset. When I did I felt a deep scratch.
“Ouch.”
I tried again, but this time it hurt even more.
“You know what, forget it,” I said. “I’ll just buy the outfit.”
“Okay, let me just scan it.”
“No, use a different tag.” I pulled my clothes back on over the corset and chaps. This only succeeded in making them tighter.
When I stepped out of the fitting room, Charlotte was waiting for me with a very amused grin.
“So you liked it?” she asked.
“No, I did not.” I walked over to the register and paid for the outfit.
“Then why are you buying it?” Charlotte asked.
“Because I can’t get it off.”
“What? So you’re wearing it now?” Charlotte asked. She began to laugh. I glanced over at her, then turned back to sign the receipt.
“Uh—all sales are final,” the cowboy said.
“Great.”
I hobbled out of the shop. “Okay, Charlotte, now it’s your turn,” I said.
“You mean you still want to buy me an outfit?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes, I do. Why don’t we look in here?” I pointed to store geared to teens and tweens.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Charlotte said. “I don’t usually shop in there.”
“Why not?”
“Just look at the models.” She pointed to the life-size posters on the windows. All of the models were extremely fit, slender, and dressed to kill.
“What about them?” I asked.
“They don’t look like me. So that’s a pretty good sign I’m not supposed to shop there.”
For the first time I saw a chink in her attitude. I realized that she wasn’t as sure of herself as I had first thought.
“Charlotte, you’re beautiful, and you can shop anywhere you like,” I said. I held open the door for her.
“Alright,” she said.
When we first stepped into the store even I was intimidated by the images surrounding us. Not only were all of the models and mannequins perfect physical specimens, they were also impossibly cool.
Charlotte began to hesitantly look through some of the racks. I noticed a beautiful slip dress that I thought would match her eyes perfectly.
“Look at this,” I said, sliding it up off of the rack to show her.
“Oh, it’s pretty.” She responded so quickly that it was almost as if she had forgotten that she was supposed to be surly and detached. “But I mean, I would never wear that.”
“Why?” I asked. “I think it would be gorgeous on you.”
“No, why would I need a dress like that?”
“Doesn’t your school have dances?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you go to them?”
“No,” Charlotte said. She turned back to the clothing rack. “I don’t really have anything to wear.”
“Okay, that’s it. You’re trying this on.” I handed her the dress.
I could see a hint of hope in her eyes as if she really did want to try on the dress. She carried it into the dressing room. I stood outside. My mind shifted to the times when I was a young girl and had found beautiful dresses. So often they did not fit me. I didn’t understand then that it was only because my body was changing and growing in different ways. I learned to despise my body very early on. I hoped that Charlotte hadn’t learned that.
The creak of the fitting room door opening drew my attention. Charlotte poked her head out.
“Can I see?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Does it fit? Do you want me to get a different size?”
“I think it fits,” she said.
“Then come out and let me see.” I was excited to see how she looked.
“Alright. Fine.”
Charlotte pushed the door open all the way and stepped slowly out of the fitting room. She looked stunning.
“Charlotte, it fits you beautifully. Do you like it?”
She stood quietly in front of me for a few seconds. Then she slowly nodded. “I think I do. I never would have tried it on if you hadn’t picked it out, but I do like it.”
“Good!” I said. “Then it’s yours. How about some shoes and a purse to go with it?”
Charlotte studied me for a moment. “That’s okay. The dress is plenty.”
“But you can’t have a beautiful dress without shoes and a purse to match,” I said. “Let’s see if we can find something that you’ll like.”
“I’m not a doll,” Charlotte said. There was a bit of an edge to her voice.
“I know that, sweetie. I’m sorry—I’m new to this Big Sister thing. I just want you to know how special and beautiful you are.”
“Right,” she said. “I’m going to change.”
Chapter 6
I watched as Charlotte walked back into the fitting room. I wondered what I had said or done wrong. One moment she seemed to be happy, and the next she was as angry as ever.
When she came out of the dressing room, I paid for the dress and then looked over at her.
“We don’t have to buy shoes and a purse if you don’t want to. We can do whatever you want to do,” I said.
I knew the only thing I wanted to do was go home and cut myself out of the corset I was wearing. I wasn’t sure how I was going to accomplish that. For a moment I considered asking Max for help, but the very idea left me mortified. Hopefully by the time I got back to my apartment the corset would have stretched enough to allow me to slice it off.
“I’m hungry,” Charlotte said. “Could we just get something from the food court?”
“Sure,” I said.
As we walked toward the food court, Charlotte was quiet again. I realized that being a Big Sister was going to be a lot harder than I thought.
It was difficult to even think of eating with the corset so tight around my waist, but I wanted to make sure that Charlotte had an amazing experience. As I eased my way down into the chair at the food court, I felt as if the whole world could see what was hidden under my clothes. One thing was certain: once I had the outfit off, I would never be putting it on again.
“So what do you think we should have for lunch?” I asked.
Charlotte sat down across from me. “How about Chinese?” she asked.
“Do you like Chinese?”
“I do. It’s over there.” She pointed to the restaurant furthest away from the chair I had just sat in. I sighed as I realized I would have to waddle my way over there.
“Okay, if that’s what you want, then let’s get it,” I said.
We made our way through the crowd toward the Chinese restaurant. I felt as if I was going to explode at any moment. I certainly couldn’t drink anything, as I could not get the panties off to save my life, which meant that going to the bathroom was out of the question.
“Let’s order fast. I really need to get home and get this thing off of me.”
Charlotte giggled. She gave me a sidelong look that made me question whether she had planned the entire thing. I pushed the thought out of my head. It wasn’t fair to think such terrible things about a little girl.
Just as we were about to step up to the counter to order our food, a group of about ten people moved in front of us. I cringed as I realized how long a wait it was going to be.
“I hope you’re not starving,” I said.
“I can wait,” Charlotte said. She folded her arms across her stomach and tapped her foot.
For someone a little heavier than average, the young girl was a lot more confident than I expected her to be. I was happy to see it, but I was starting to think that I wasn’t going to be such a great mentor for her. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was trying to play dress-up with her. Maybe I was trying to make up for everything I thought I didn’t have when I was her age.
Just as I was about to ask her about school, a strong voice spoke from directly behind me.
“Put your hands up.”
Charlotte’s eyes were wide as she looked at the person behind me. “Uh, Samantha, you’re in big trouble.”
“What?” I turned around.
“Put your hands up!” the police officer barked.
I jumped and put my hands in the air. I’d never had a gun pointed at me before, and certainly never been asked to surrender to a police officer—well, there was that one mistake in the jewelry shop…
“Back away from the child,” the officer said.
His commanding voice made my body tense up instantly. I kept my hands in the air and backed slowly away from Charlotte.
“Don’t be afraid, Charlotte,” I said. “This is all some kind of mistake.”
Charlotte began to giggle. “Are you some kind of criminal, Sis?”
“Hands behind your head,” the officer said.
All of the attention in the food court was focused on me. I was beyond embarrassed as I slowly raised my hands higher and laced them behind my head. My heart was racing as I wondered what was happening.
“Have I done something wrong?” I asked.
The officer moved behind me and pulled one hand and then the other behind my back. I felt the steel of the handcuffs encircle my wrists. “What are you doing? Why are you handcuffing me? I haven’t done anything!”
“Don’t cry, Sis,” Charlotte said. “If you show weakness they’ll throw you in the hole.”
She appeared far too amused by what was unfolding before her. I was glad she wasn’t frightened, but I was wondering what she found funny about it.
“In the what?” I asked.
The officer tugged me back toward him.
“You’re under arrest,” he said. He began to rattle off my rights.
I felt as if I was trapped in a dream—or more accurately—a nightmare.
“For what?” I asked.
I’d started to panic now. I was certain that there had to be some kind of mistake.
“For armed robbery and evading arrest,” he replied. Then he turned me away from Charlotte, toward the exit of the mall.
“Wait,” I said. “There’s been some kind of mix-up. I’ve never done anything like that.”
“You can tell it to your lawyer,” the officer said. “You have open warrants.”
“But Charlotte—my Little Sister—she can’t be left alone here.”
“She’ll be taken care of,” the officer said.
Chapter 7
As I was led out of the mall I still couldn’t grasp the situation. It wasn’t until I was pushed unceremoniously into the backseat of the squad car that it really hit me. The corset felt like it got even tighter. I could barely bend at the waist and the handcuffs weren’t making it any easier.
“Well, Samantha, you’re in a real mess this time,” I muttered under my breath.
The drive to the police station was a short one. I tried not to panic. How could I not when I was handcuffed in the back seat of a squad car?
It’s all a mistake, I told myself. In the back of my mind I wondered if it might have something to do with the ink fingerprints I had left on Officer Barnes’ trousers. Was it really that serious an offense?
I worried about Charlotte being alone at the mall, but I was sure that she would be taken care of by the other officer I’d seen as I was being taken away. I was mortified that she had witnessed my arrest.
Some mentor—some role model I’d turned out to be.
When the officer parked, I felt a brief sense of relief. This was it. This was when everything was going to be fixed, and I’d be just fine.
“Officer, this really is a mistake,” I said. “I just think if you talk to someone—”
“Get out of the car,” he said. He guided me out of the backseat. “Watch your head.”
I ducked enough to escape striking my head.
“Please, if you just let me explain,” I said.
“Listen, you have open warrants out for your arrest. They showed up on the background check that was conducted on you. Now, I don’t know what you were thinking, but I don’t get paid to know that. I get paid to arrest criminals, and that’s what you are. So stop with the pleading and the begging. It’s not going to get you anywhere with me.”
My heart sank. What could have possibly come up on my background check? I’d never been in any trouble. Was it possible that I had been and just didn’t realize it? There were a few drunken evenings in my youth, but I was certain that I would remember if I had committed a crime.
I was starting to hyperventilate. I tried to recall
what Guru Gary, my yoga teacher, would say. I am in perfection, I thought to myself. I can maintain my peace.
Then the officer handcuffed me to a bench and I lost all of my peace. I was either going to cry or scream. I wasn’t sure which.
“For processing,” the officer said to another man. “Open warrants.”
The other man turned to look at me. He was the same man who had taken my fingerprints earlier that morning.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Why would she have come in for fingerprinting if she knew she had open warrants?”
“Not our place to ask. You can turn her over to a detective once you’re done,” he said.
The man walked over to me.
“Thank you. Yes.”
“You know this is a mistake,” I said. “You saw me earlier. You know this can’t be true.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, all I do is take fingerprints and mug shots,” he said. He unlocked my handcuffs and led me down the same hallway he had earlier—although he hadn’t been touching me then.
I sat in front of the same small table. I stared in disbelief as the officer sat across from me. He began fingerprinting me.
“This is insane,” I said. “I never did anything to have a warrant out for my arrest.”
“Well, that’s for a judge and jury to decide,” the officer said. “Right now we just need to get you booked.”
“Booked?”
“Just do as you’re told and you’ll be fine,” he said. He rolled my thumb in ink and then pressed it against a card.
“Isn’t there someone I can speak to about all of this being a misunderstanding?”
“We’re going to need to take a photograph of you.” He ignored my question completely.
“No, no. I will not have a mug shot,” I said. “I can’t have a mug shot!”
“Excuse me?” he asked. He met my eyes with a stern expression. “You’ll do as you’re told.”
The man who had seemed like a mild, if not shy person, when he fingerprinted me earlier in the day was now puffed up with authority. Even though I was sure all of this was still some kind of mistake, I suddenly understood what it was like to be treated like a criminal.
“Please, you have to believe me. I came here to be a Big Sister. That was all. I was a good Big Sister. I took her to the mall and I bought her clothes! How is that a crime?”
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