Short Fiction

The Pall of the Mall

By Christian Mueth

He just needed to get in and get out. Dress pants and a dress shirt. Also, some milk. That was it. That was all.

The fluorescent lights crowded around Ervin, brushing past and constricting his view. His forehead shone like melting wax. His vision clotted, and his legs chafed against his overalls. Squinting, he ran his hand along the wall, and counted his steps. His breaths followed the rhythm of his feet against the marble floor.

Why was it, then, that his steps felt so slow and his breaths felt so fast?

He threw his gaze between the signs of several shops. Then, between several kiosks. There was nothing there, save neon shouting louder than he’d ever heard. Weirder, too. Since when did neon lights come in brown?

Ervin brought his hand to his temple. He dabbed the sweat with his crusty sleeve. Why was it so hard to find a map? The whole place was practically empty. Had its structure always been this chaotic? It hadn’t always seemed that way… Had it? Ervin certainly couldn’t say that it hadn’t ever never.

“Seams and Dreams.”

A scoff left Ervin’s throat as he passed the store’s entrance. It’d been ages since he’d seen the place, and it still looked trashy as ever. A gaggle of skinny frat boys hung from the ceiling, mugging with their too tight clothes, and their too white smiles. Too white all around, honestly. Made him want to gag.

Though, Ervin’s eyes glazed as they passed over a mannequin. It was soulless. However, it had a decent dress shirt. Ervin caught a glimpse of the woman through the window. She didn’t look too bad either.

Ervin walked in, stared at the rack by the mannequin, and snatched up a dress shirt. It looked like it should’ve been in his size.

“I’m going to purchase one of these,” Ervin said at the counter.

He straightened himself to his full height and tried filtering the southern drawl from his voice. Could she tell?

“Buying a gift?” the woman asked. She gestured toward a roll of wrapping paper behind her.

“Nope. It’s for me. Need to be dressed my best for the next few weeks.”

The woman glanced at the shirt. Then, she glanced at Ervin. Her lip furled. She scanned the tag, before rifling through her bags. Ervin caught her nametag — Delores.

Seemed to fit.

“Just going to need you to swipe your card.”

Ervin pulled out a wad of cash. From the way Delores counted it, it must’ve reeked.

The register dinged shut. “Well there you go.”

A couple of tens and some coins slid across the counter. The shirt, now in a rumpled ball of plastic, landed in front of Ervin. Ervin snatched it up.

“Nice place you got here,” he said, clearing his throat. “Especially like the music.”

It was some pop song, about going crazy all day, all day. Truly a classic.

“Have a nice day.”

Delores gave a wave, and then flipped on her phone. Ervin kept standing. The longer he stood, the deeper the lines around Delores’ nose crinkled.

“Say… How much you’d say you make, at a place like this?”

“Dirt.”

“Sounds right up my alley. I’d be willing to fill out an application, if you’re willing to take it. I got all my info on me — b-date, social, phone number— right here.”

Ervin made a grin. Delores slammed her phone on the counter.

“I’m sorry, but we’re not taking applications right now.” She forced a smile. “Now, if you don’t have anything else you’re interested in purchasing, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Ervin trudged out of the store and into the blinding light. Signs bleeped, salespeople at kiosks called after him, escalators whirred, and all the while he muttered to himself.

“Just need to get dress pants, and some milk, I guess.”

Ervin still had no idea where he was going, but it didn’t matter as much anymore. The day was probably going to be a bust. It already was one, wasn’t it?

He passed by a couple of shoe shops and a music store. At least, that’s what he’d gathered from the corner of his eye. Granted, the corner of his eye was plenty for Ervin to identify those stores. He’d been to them enough times. Too many times. Every time he’d ever walked out of one, he learned just how little was inside of them — save his own savings.

Thankfully it’d been a spell since he’d last spent money in one of those stores. Come to think of it, bigger than a spell. Not since being a teenager, really. If only Billy could’ve seen what had become of this place, now.

Ervin’s hand gravitated toward his phone.

His feet skidded, squealing. He took a second look in the window to his left. There was a display devoted to phones, electric watches, radios, and music players.

“50% off, going out of business sale!”

Of course the radio store was going out of business. Ervin had seen more unicorns than radio stores in the past few years.

He went to the entrance. An iron gate greeted him, complete with a “Closed” sign. A lump formed in Ervin’s throat. He might’ve even shaken the iron gate, just a bit. Just to check.

Ervin’s steps took him to the store next door. A pants tailor — perfect. That’s exactly where he’d intended to go the entire time. He could already see the pants he wanted, on a shelf a few yards away. Brown, khaki pants.

Tacky? Hopefully not. Hopefully most professionals wouldn’t care.

The lighting was warmer in this store. Ervin passed a man at the counter. A blast of air conditioning only patted Ervin down for a moment, before letting him on his way. A low banjo hummed in the background. The mahogany floor was easy on Ervin’s feet. Ervin hadn’t noticed until now, but the store’s name hung just overhead — “The Tailor”.

It was definitely a place he could get used to. He grabbed his pants and went to the register.

“That all you getting?” the man asked, rubbing his stubble.

His nametag was smeared by a bit of ranch dressing. The tag could’ve said Tim, or Tom. Possibly Tam?

“Was hoping to get an application too,” Ervin said, with a grunt. “Just to keep my options open, of course.”

“Oh?” Tam asked, scanning the pants’ tag.

“I was actually wondering about the pay rate.”

Tom laughed.

“I think this place takes more of my money than it pays me.” He held out his hand, and Ervin gave another pile of cash. “Takes me an hour to drive out here. I only work five-hour shifts. And, they only are paying me minimum wage right now. But, hey: it is a fun job. At least, when my brain isn’t bleeding from my ears.”

He chuckled again.

“I was thinking that this place could be fun,” said Ervin. “I actually got my first job at a place like this.”

“Really?” The register chimed, and Tim handed back Ervin’s bag and money. “Course, I’m sure that a guy like you would have other prospects going on. Right?”

Ervin’s voice went gruff. “You’d think, eh?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine.”

Ervin’s eyes were at his feet. One of his shoes had a hole in it, exposing the steel toe. How long would it take to patch the thing up?

“Me and my friend, Billy,” Ervin said, puffing some energy back into his voice. “We used to hang out all the time, just browsing around. We were teenagers then. Just trying to find new reasons to ignore our homework. I was supposed to be saving up money to buy a car and drive up and out of this town.”

Ervin managed a weak laugh, and Tam supplied an echo.

“I even knew the exact car I was going to get. It was this nice red Cadillac that they kept on display, in the center of the mall. They always had some guy talking it up during some raffle.”

“And, how did that end up working out for you?”

“Well I’m still here, talking to you. Let’s just put it that way.”

Ervin looked at the price tag of his pants. Twenty bucks. When did they end up costing so much?

“Keep your chin up man. I’m not really sure that this place is hiring. But, I mean, if you really want an application…”

Ervin raised his hand. “No. It’s fine. I’ve got other places to be.”

“Well, have a nice day!”

Ervin’s hand gave a wave, then dropped back to his side.

The ceiling leaned lower now. It leered at him, and its air conditioners carried faint grumbles. It must have been getting sick of him. He was getting sick of it. A row of salons and perfume stores floated past, their fragrances making a flagrant assault on his senses. His eyes watered. Annoyed, he rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.

A smirk crossed his face. He shouldn’t have been annoyed. It wasn’t as if this were the first time today that his eyes had been left watering.

Ervin sped toward an escalator, just ahead. His bags flopped against his side. They were oddly empty, compared to how they should’ve felt. They were worth tens of dollars, and they couldn’t have weighed more than air.

Money had stretched better in the past. Everything had stretched better, back then. So much time had been spent in this place. So many memories made. Ervin tried to smile. He ran his hand along the tile walls, trying to conjure up images. To bring up something that would make him feel again.

He and Billy had done all sorts of things here. Yet, it was all blurred. Sort of just a shadow, of a dream long faded. Was any of it as grand as it had seemed?

Ervin glanced at a clock in the wall. Time was running short. Maybe he could cut the trip short.

“Can’t,” he muttered to himself. “Just need some milk. Then, I need to leave.”

Dust flaked off Ervin’s boot as he stomped on the first step of the escalator. Even after years of riding escalators, he remained skeptical of whether it would stall out on him. Billy had always teased him over the fear. Still, Ervin couldn’t afford to assume that there were ever any guarantees.

Ervin’s posture wilted during the ascent. He stumbled forward upon reaching the top, and struggled to regain his balance.

A man holding a bucket of chicken pushed past him. “Out of the way!”

Ervin thought to give the man a shoulder check, before thinking again. He checked around him — a dozen people were eating amid dozens of tables. The tables, in turn, were flanked by an assortment of fast food restaurants.

Ervin was a minnow, entering a deep pond. There was all of this, and all he needed was some milk.

He stumbled along, eyes skimming the signs of each restaurant. His feet moved toward only one.

“Welcome to George’s Burgers. May I take your order?”

The man’s eyes were downcast, glued to his phone. He shuffled toward the counter.

Ervin rested his arm on the counter. “You guys got milk?”

The man’s skin had an olive texture, but his beard had gone to pepper. A smile spread across the man’s face.

“No,” the man said. He looked up, his eyes crinkling. “No way.”

He gave a wheezing laugh. It was the kind of laugh that turned time inside out. Memory, the moment, and moments to come converged.

“How’s everything holding up?” Ervin asked.

“Good. Good. Well, it’s alright. After being open for three years, the sales at this place are going steady.”

“That’s very good.” Ervin coughed. “So, what would you say is the best thing to drink here? I’m parched.”

“It is very good here… Everything is good. The lemon fizz is probably best, I guess.”

“Life’s given me a bit too many lemons for my taste right now.”

“Yeah, well… Makes sense. This type of place doesn’t serve the drinks that are going to be your speed.”

The man glared, and Ervin could only offer a sheepish grin.

“That was the old me,” Ervin said. “I’m doing better. With everything. Well, I was.

“Screw it, I guess I could go for a few drinks. You?”

The man gave a shrug. “It really sucks, but I won’t be off my shift for quite a few hours.”

The ice cone machine sputtered in the back, its rotors overheating from the strain of its ice. The grill sizzled with pure fat and grease, leftover from burgers that had long been served. There were so many leftovers. Fries littered the counters. A rejected pile of crumbling cookies sat in a corner. Bits of ketchup stained the walls. The ketchup was on the ceiling and floors too. It was everywhere, really.

Too much ketchup.

“I guess I’ll take a meat monster,” Ervin said.

“Just one?”

“Really need to watch my wallet right now. I didn’t bring a whole lot of cash with me.”

“You, without cash? That’s new.”

“Getting too risky to carry all of my money on my person. Besides, I — I’m just going to cut to the chase — I was wondering if I could get a job here.”

The man’s lips puckered. His eyes were blank. Bleak.

“But, your job, with that construction company,” he said, “it’s going well. Right?”

Ervin laughed. “You only have a construction job for as long as they need you. There have been a lot of cutbacks. They didn’t need me. Turns out, they’re just not building buildings anymore.”

“How long have you —.”

“It’s been a week.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that. If I could do anything, I would.”

“It’s fine. I’ll find something soon. I’m a floater. I guess we can both relate, in that way.”

The man blinked as a switch flipped. He turned and threw a burger patty on the grill.

“You want any fries with that?” the man asked.

“Nope.”

“Nothing else at all?”

“Well, if you had milk, maybe some of that.”

Ervin gave a chuckle, but the man remained stolid.

“We’re not as alike as you think,” the man said. “You know, you could leave town at any time you want, Ervin. The whole world is yours. Always has been.”

“It’s yours too.”

“No it isn’t. You know it. You’ve always had a knack for getting money. Not me. Look at me.”

Ervin rubbed his temples. The heat of the kitchen wafted into his face, and pressure mounted on his head.

“Then why can’t I ever leave this place?” Ervin said. His voice tightened. “It all just keeps getting emptier, and emptier. Though, I keep staying, staring at the emptiness even longer.”

“You could leave, Ervin. Change the game. I know you could.”

Ervin shook his head. A woman cleared her throat.

“Excuse me,” she said. She stood behind Ervin, tapping her foot.

The man jumped, his eyes moving to the woman.

“Sorry ma’am,” the man said. “I can take your order.”

The man then turned to Ervin and gave a whisper. “I’ll call you up for your order in just a minute. I just have to take this.”

Ervin stalked off. He floated past the maze of tables and chairs. He went down the escalator. He went through the exit.

His throat was dry.

The car door slammed. Keys turned. An engine revved.

Ervin needed some milk.

He at least needed something to drink.

End