Chapter 14

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 Marimar

Chapter 14

“Try this on.”  Mama hands me a pair of capris.  She’s been forcing me into the changing room for the last half hour and this is the third store we’ve visited.  She’s determined to have me fitted with a climate appropriate summer wardrobe by the end of the day.  So this is going to be a long day.

I plaster on a smile and head off to the dressing room for the umpteenth time.  I love this bonding time with just us girls but I couldn’t care less about shopping.  My mind keeps racking up the prices.  How can we afford all this?

I zip up my pants and I examine myself in the mirror.  What do you know, it’s too loose.  I unzip them and hang them back on the rack.  I head out towards Mama.

I hear the shuffle of feet behind me.  Something feels off.  I keep a steady pace as I slowly cock my head to the side.  Out of the corner of my eye I see a Goth chick standing casually behind me.  Her eyes are blood-shot red; she’s glaring at me.  Shit, not again.  I rush out of the dressing room and I head towards the capris racks.  My heart sinks.  Mama and Marisol aren’t there.

“Mama!” I call out.  No answer.  “Marisol!”  Still no reply.  I take a long bend in the general direction of the women’s section.  I go in and out of clothes racks but I still haven’t shaken my stalker.  In fact, when I turn around I notice more people have joined her.  Punks, Goths and rockers alike.  Eight of them, all sharing her strange eyes.  I’m starting to freak out.  They seem almost too magically emerge on either side of me, trapping me.  I survey the area but there is still no sign of her.  Where are you, Mama?  Where would you go?

I’m struck by a memory.

“Mama, can we go look at the toys?” Sunshine asked.

“In a minute, Sunny,” Mama replied.

The toy section, that’s not far from here.  I duck through a clothes rack and I practically run to the toy section.

“There you are, Mama,” I say relieved.  Mama is standing in the little girl section; Marisol is kneeling beside her, examining a baby doll.                                         

“Stay close,” Mama says, urging me to her side.  She’s staring ahead of me.  I turn around to see the band of freaks scattering, but still watching.  We head out of the aisle, tagging along with a man and his daughter.

“That’s enough shopping for today, let’s go grab a bite to eat,” Mama says nervously as we exit the store.  We drift our way through the flock of shoppers to a little restaurant.  As we get seated, I recognize two of my followers from earlier seated across the way at a bench.  Their eyes glued to our table.  The others are nearby, sprinkled about the stores.

“Mama,” I whisper, low enough so that I don’t disrupt Marisol’s conversation with her pals.  “Why are we always being followed?  Do I have a “V” on my forehead or something?  I thought that moving halfway across the U.S. would change things.”

“I don’t know,” replies Mama with a worried look.

“Jesus, Mama.  They got really close to me this time.  If I hadn’t found you … they had me surrounded like a pack of wolves; like I’m some kind of slab of meat or something.”

“Don’t worry; I don’t think they want to hurt us.  If they did they would have done it by now.”

“Who do you think they are?”

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