Mall Land

by Jonathan Hurley

  “I do?”

  “Oh, I think so. You might not want to believe they’re real but they are out there for all the fools who become enemies of the state.”

  Michael had heard the same tales as a child that everyone had. In tales of the past, men seemed to be stronger and the world somehow seemed more vivid. Every parental figure seemed to know about warriors from the past wars. The details varied from one person to another but one thing was always the same. These sacred almost mythical men from the past wars were frightening individuals with unparalleled heroism in a war. The men of North Atrophy, especially those likely to be security officers had a special relationship with these figures. To the people who regulate the present day Mall patrons, these hard unquestioning men of the past are the ideal. They are how people should be. Some believed that they were still around keeping the people safe from outside threats. Michael had heard from friends as a child that they butchered and mutilated their victims; that they were elite soldiers who hurt and killed people for the greater good. Michaels father always told him that they were just folklore and not to be afraid of them. Either way, the idea of them was more effective than any gated community for keeping people safe and in line.

  “You know who I’m talking about don’t you?”

  “Hunter Killers,” said Michael.

  “Do you really believe that they’re out there or do you think I’m just trying to scare you?”

  “I think you’re exaggerating to scare me. So… I don’t know, a little of both,” said Michael again having nowhere to turn but sarcasm.

  The world was closing in on Michael in that little office. He felt that he was a wounded animal in a corner. The security guard was going on and on about the Hunter Killers but Michael had become overwhelmed with the situation and acted like any machine that becomes overloaded, he shut down. He sunk into himself and the world seemed like some far off place. It was as if his life went onto a screen again and he was on the couch watching it unfold. None of it felt real but it was the position where he felt comfortable. He was back on the sidelines commenting on the game. He was no longer the player. He saw in the security guards face some puzzlement and he noticed that the guard was in the middle of recanting some story of the glory of service and the importance of rules when he stopped and was staring oddly at Michael. He clearly noticed that Michael had undergone some type of transformation. Michael wondered if he was drooling or had maybe urinated on himself involuntarily. He watched as the security guard got up and left him alone in the room with his mop. The guard simply waked out and closed the door behind him. Michael watched almost as a disembodied head would watch its headless body do something in a scary movie. He watched as his body lived out his fantasy by picking up the mop and opening the door.

  The back security office seemed oddly deserted where it had been teeming with officers when he first walked in. He saw his nemesis of a security guard on the phone behind a desk. Michael had no time to find out who he was on the phone with. The distraction made it possible to bring down the mop handle on the unsuspecting guard. When the handle broke, the guard was at the receiving end of a wooden shard. The mop was making a mess in that office. Michael might as well have had a bowl of popcorn to watch the show. It was all life on the big screen.

  He woke up in his car in the parking lot. He wasn’t hazy for the first time in a long time. He was however very confused. “Did any of that happen?” He asked no one in particular. He must have dreamt it. He probably didn’t go into work at all. He did have his work clothes on and was covered in dirty mop water. “Where is the blood?”

  When he heard sirens approaching he felt sick to his stomach with fear and dread. He turned on the car. He had to run but where could he go? He had to get home to get money. They’ll certainly go there but maybe he still had time… maybe, maybe, maybe.

  Michael drove to his apartment building. Every casual glance with acquaintances up to his apartment seemed like a threat. Once inside, he tried to calm his growing panic and think clearly. “Braden Pinn wouldn’t lose it. He would hold it together and get a plan,” he thought. The characters that Braden Pinn played would not be in this position in the movie. He quickly gathered up as much cash as he had lying around, a bag of clothes and toiletries and all the booze in the fridge. When he was in the bedroom, he was hunched over barely able to move. It was as if he would see accusing eyes if he were to turn around. He frantically looked around the apartment after closing the bedroom door. He was done with this place and this life. There was no ceremony and the moment was only as big as he was going to let it be. He looked at his bedroom door one last time closed the door and moved on with the certainty that he would never go back in life. He would no longer be playing the same role.

  He got into his car and drove to a bank machine where he could get cash out. Cash was suspicious and hardly ever used anymore as people felt they would be irresponsible without credit cards. They would track his credit card purchases. They would monitor his calls. The reason that no one ever escaped was that there was nowhere to go and people willingly made themselves traceable at all times a long time ago. They would of course know about hasty bank transaction but he had few options. His first thought before getting to the highway was to go to Darline.

  “How can I go to her?” He said aloud to no one in particular. “I really don’t know her. She may have told me what the world is but she has succumbed to it. There’s nothing left in her. She’d probably turn me in and think nothing of it. No there’s no refuge for me there.” He realized that he had been talking to himself. He thought about calling his brother, his last remaining family. He began to dial the number but then out the phone down before he made the call knowing that the law would track him by his phone calls. He also couldn’t imagine trying to relate this to anyone so indoctrinated into the culture as his brother. “I guess I’ll get used to talking to myself.”

  As he turned on the highway going south instead of north, he could see police lights at the Mall. He would go south for a few days and the west to the other side of the country. “Maybe if I went in another direction he would stumble across something, some place of refuge. Maybe I could go to another country and find something.” He tried to focus on the possible rather than the likely. “Whatever happened to the terrorists when they were caught? Maybe I’ll find out.” Maybe.

  He drove through the night and decided to sleep in the day. Less people would be looking on the highway at night and he needed to put as many miles behind him as possible. He only had to convince a motel to let him stay with only cash. By the early morning hours he couldn’t drive straight any more. He would have to get off the road soon as driving recklessly was putting up a beacon for the law. He pulled into a town that looked predictably like any other town and found a motel chain like any other motel chain. Michael was thinking about how his bloodshot eyes and tired features must make him look like the stereotypical image of the bad guy.

  “Hello sir, are you looking for a room today?” Asked the man who worked at the desk. “I am. But, I want you to know that I can only pay in cash if that’s all right.”

  “That’s fine sir, we just need a credit card for incidentals.”

  “You know, the thing is… I know will sound crazy but, I just lost my wallet and I’m driving cross-country. I’m really tired and I can pay in cash of course but I don’t have a credit card to give you.”

  “I’m sorry sir but we need to have a credit card on file.”

  “I know that you’re supposed to say that and that you’re just following protocol here but I can see from the lack of cars in the parking lot that there are plenty of rooms and I’m wiling to pay. I’m even going to give you an extra 20 bucks for the hassle.”

  “Sir, I’m sorry but we need a credit card for incidentals.” Michael was starting to become frustrated.

  “How is talking to you different from talking to a machine? If all you ever do is regurgitate what you’re supposed to say, how are you a person of
your own?”

  “I’m sorry sir but I can’t give you a room without a valid credit card, company policy.” Michael left and drove across the street to an almost identical motel. He knew that since the same company probably owned this one as well, the result would probably be the same. He pulled around back next to the dumpsters. There were two there. One seemed to be filled with food waste probably from the restaurant inside. He lied down uncomfortably in the back seat and tried to sleep. It’s amazing how difficult it can be to fall asleep when you need to no matter how tired. He was looking at the two dumpsters in his cramped discomfort. “This is where the substance of the world is. It’s behind the building so that no one has to think about it. I know there’s freedom in being the refuse of the world,” he said to no one in particular.

  Michael awoke with a sore back and bloodshot eyes. He thought about his encounter the night before and his lack of connection with people over the past few weeks. It seemed that he wasn’t talking to people alive and aware like himself. He realized that he felt more alone being with others that he did by himself. He went into the motel. The restaurant wasn’t open and all he could find to eat was what was in a vending machine. He looked around the motel lobby as he was eating his chocolate covered cookie dough caramel surprise bar. There was nothing alive in the motel. The walls were dead beige; the chairs were lifelessly brown and functional. He looked at the wall art. It was the same piece repeated around the room. Nothing but a framed picture of flowers in a vase. It maybe was supposed to represent beauty in the world but it did little more than break up the visual monotony of the wall. It was just another part of the white noise of life. None of it was worth any notice and so it wasn’t. Michael couldn’t help feel like an estranged observer with his unique perspective on the world and that the things framed on the wall should be about something. Michael intuitively knew that the projected world of beauty should not blend into the white noise.

  He left and got into his car to continue down the seemingly endless road south and west. He noticed an attractive muscular man dressed in black coming out of the motel across the street. When it was clear that the man had driven far enough away, Michael went into the motel that rejected him. He cautiously walked up to the counter to have a talk with the pudgy woman on the night shift. He knew that he would be on camera here so he didn’t want to seem conspicuous.

  “Hi there, can I ask you a question about the man who was just in here? Didn’t he look like a movie star?”

  “What man?” Asked the pudgy woman.

  “Seriously? Are you fucking with me? He was just in here, he had on black.”

  The demeanor of the woman seemed to change right in front of Michael’s eyes, as she seemed to focus in on the conversation. “Oh, he was looking for a man. He was some kind of security officer, not a movie star. Are you the man he was looking for?” She asked half joking.

  “No, hah! I just thought he looked like Braden Pinn,” said Michael.

  “He did look like Braden Pinn,” she said excitedly.

  “Hey let me ask you a question. If he was going to stay here and he could only pay in cash, you’d let him wouldn’t you?”

  “Well sir, all guests need to have a valid major credit card to cover incidentals,” she replied robotically.

  “Of course. Goodbye you simple-minded robot fuck-nut,” said Michael as he left. He was not good at keeping a low profile.

  Michael got back on the highway in the direction that he was going. He was worried and confounded at how they caught up to him so quickly. He remembered sitting on the couch watching the news with Sarah making fun of criminals who tried to get past the law and were being filmed unawares. It was all good entertainment rooting against the bad guy. They never stood a chance. They were always caught. Michael had a plan for this however. He didn’t remember seeing one of those shows filmed at night. He would stick to driving all through the night and sleeping in the day. There weren’t as many people watching then. It wasn’t prime time. Michael wasn’t sure of much these days but he was sure that he didn’t want to be driving during prime time. He turned on the radio to hear if there was any news about him or the events that he couldn’t begin to confront. “Jefferson County residents can smile about a 10 percent discount at Smileys discount dentistry located on the lower east corridor of the Jefferson County Mall. Don’t forget… ” Michael shut it off, as it was just a reminder of the futility of escape.

  He drove and drove and the time was weighing him down. Rumors, gossip clearance sales and celebrity happenings are what keep people’s attention form the steady and slow passing of time. One the open highway at night when you aren’t listening to the radio there is just you and the world. Even the all-encompassing weight of the Debt can’t compare with feeling the minutes. Michael imagined what his life would be like if he ended up in jail. He thought about this intently as he passed exit after exit leading to another Mall. In prison he would have to come up with new things to occupy his mind to not feel the passage of time. He could come to terms with it and maybe find some peace with that life but he knew that it was unlikely. The man after him would probably get him sooner or later. He would have steal money soon just so that he could keep using cash. There was no plan and there was only one outcome for people who lived without a plan. He had been told that as far as he could remember. It was either do what you have to in order to be part of the system or suffer the uncertainty of life. It seemed that it was destitution, death or assimilation. “I know that it’s always been this way. I have my freedom in this car even if I don’t find a place to go. Maybe I can outrun these people and their sickness. Maybe everyone who told me what the world was about had no idea what they were talking about. I should call Darline soon. Maybe she can join me and we can do this together. Maybe, maybe… maybe.”

  Michael continued to drive and though the stores were the same, the landscape was clearly changing. It was more open and spread out. It was rural land with the Mall. There were few cars and every time Michael saw a set of headlights he was reminded of the looming threat. It had been light out for a little while when he pulled into the parking lot of a motel almost identical to the one he had left many hours behind him. Exhaustion was ruling his life. He was more tired than he had ever been and he needed a bed to sleep in. The motel would be short-term salvation if he could convince the person at the desk to listen to him and get past automated responses. The nagging feeling that someone was always right behind him was still there when he walked inside the Shady Oasis motor lodge.

  “Hey there fellah, are you looking for room today?” said the way to chipper man at the desk.

  “Listen pal I’m going to get right to the point. I’m really tired and my wallet was stolen a while ago and I don’t have any credit cards. I know what your policy is on that and I’m willing to offer you double what you charge just to stay for a while. I’m too tired to drive right now and I know that there isn’t anyone here.”

  “Well it sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it. Now we need a major credit card to cover incidentals… ”

  “Please!” Michael pleaded, his bloodshot eyes begging for understanding and humanity. “Sir, if I let you stay will you promise not to damage the room?”

  “I’m just going to sleep for a few hours and I’ll pay you for two days so you don’t have to worry.” The man looked around nervously as if he was in a place he had never been in before.

  “OK, but please don’t make me regret this,” said the man as he gave Michael the key. It glimmered, as it was the only shiny thing in the room. It was blinding Michael as he took it.

  “You’ve renewed some of my faith in humanity,” said Michael.

  “Well we’re always happy to welcome visitors to our town. Be sure to visit out beautiful Mall after your rest.”

  Michael put the do not disturb sign on his door.

  “I know I’m not the only one here but where are the other people? It’s so lush and green; there must be animals around. I think t
here are herds of sheep here. Maybe there used to be. I know that this used to be someone else’s land before I got here. Before we got here.” He walked along the flat level green grass at the bottom of a large multi tiered graveyard. “It’s beautiful. I know I’ve been here before. I used to be in the middle but now I’m at the bottom. I think I’m at the entrance. Who am I? Why am I here?” The landscape gradually changed to a landfill full of broken televisions, rotting food and discarded toys. There were still gravestones able to be made out among the piles of discarded goods and the thick humid stench. There were people off in the distance standing over gravestones. They were distant figures dressed in black. They became more shadow like, as it seemed to be turning to night. “There must have been a funeral. I’d better get home, I’ve been out for to long. Where am I going? Who are these people? How do I get out of here?” He walked to one of the figures standing over a gravestone. The closer he got to the figure, the more the landfill began to have body parts mixed in with the trash. Arms were next to discarded toasters. Feet were on top of soiled pizza boxes. He got to the grave with the man in black. The grave was covered in human ears and fingers.

  “I’m going to cut your ears off so you can hear it. I’m going to cut your eyes out so you can see it,” said the man in black.

  “I want to go home.” The man in black was a famous person in the world. He was recognized. He was the hero.

  “I’ll cut your toes off so you can get there,” said the man in black.

  “I’m so sick of you. I want you to be someone else,” he said to the man in black.