“There’s that guy again.”
They all turned and saw the man from the Gap, handing out his little yellow cards. “What’s he doing, following us?”
“I’m sure he isn’t,” Lu said. “I’m sure he’s just going store to store or something.”
“He’s coming this way,” Britt muttered. “He’s probably going to quiz us on God or something. Get ready, Ollie.”
“I’m ready,” said Ollie.
The man marched in their direction, high-stepping like a majorette. His eyeglasses were huge square affairs that took up nearly half of his face. The strap of his canvas bag cut into his soft belly. “Here,” he said, and dealt Britt, Ollie, and Lu a yellow card.
“But you already gave us these,” Britt said.
The man smiled, a mirror image of his card, and turned to Devin.
“I don’t want that,” Devin said. The man smiled even wider and tucked the card into Devin’s shirt pocket.
“Get your hands off me!” Devin yelped, but the man was already moving on, his canvas bag parting the sea of shirts. Lu marveled at the man’s audacity. Nobody touched Devin. Nobody gave him stuff he didn’t want. Nobody gave him stuff he
did
want. Once, Lu had bought him expensive boots he’d been begging for after watching him slog through the snow in his Converse sneakers, after listening to him complain about his frozen feet. A month later, in a box in the laundry room, she found the boots, lacy with cobwebs.
“Is that guy crazy?” said Britt.
“Now I’ve got one card for each hand,” Ollie said.
“
You’re
crazy.” Devin yanked the card from his pocket and ripped it in half. The two pieces fluttered from his hands like moths.
“Why did you do that?” Ollie said. “Lu, he ripped the man’s card.”
“But he didn’t rip yours, so everything’s okay, right?” Lu could tell that Ollie wasn’t buying her logic, but he chose not to protest. That was a miracle in and of itself.
Devin was glaring at the man’s back as the man stalked off into the lingerie section, handing his card off to two unsuspecting old ladies buying Tummy Tamers. “If that guy comes near me again, if he freaking touches me again . . . ,” he said, trailing off.
“Relax, Dev,” Britt said. “Here. I found a shirt for you.”
Heck is for people who don’t believe in gosh.
Devin yanked the shirt off the hanger and threw it across the men’s department.
“All right, that’s enough!” said Lu. “What’s gotten into you guys?”
Devin didn’t bother to respond, retreating into his usual fog of people-be-gone. Ollie continued to beg for the
This is my clone
T-shirt, making Lu’s gums ache with irritation. Britt merely smiled and held up one last shirt, one with a line she recognized instantly from the movie
Jaws: I think you’re going to need a bigger boat.
Lu led her boyfriends from Carson’s and out into the mall, moving swiftly toward the bookstore. Surely there was something there that the boys could get Ward. A Dilbert calendar, the latest business book that Ward would never open, a crossword puzzle collection. A sign at the entrance of the store screamed author signing today! but no names were mentioned. Lu thought it was pretty funny.
“Look,” she said. “Anonymous author signings!”
“So?” said Ollie.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Britt said.
“Loopy! Britt said ‘hell’!” Ollie blared.
“And so did you,” Britt said.
Lu sighed. “Can we stay focused, please?” she said. “Think: Gifts for Dad, gifts for Dad, gifts for Dad. It’s your purpose, your mantra. It is the central idea around which your life revolves.”
This attempt at humor got another “Huh?” from Ollie and a blank stare from Devin. Britt, however, laughed. Britt the Fork-Tongued, Britt the Berserker, the “problem” child—the one who had gotten himself suspended from school as well as every sports team he joined—had recently become her favorite. And it wasn’t because she recognized herself in him,
They all turned and saw the man from the Gap, handing out his little yellow cards. “What’s he doing, following us?”
“I’m sure he isn’t,” Lu said. “I’m sure he’s just going store to store or something.”
“He’s coming this way,” Britt muttered. “He’s probably going to quiz us on God or something. Get ready, Ollie.”
“I’m ready,” said Ollie.
The man marched in their direction, high-stepping like a majorette. His eyeglasses were huge square affairs that took up nearly half of his face. The strap of his canvas bag cut into his soft belly. “Here,” he said, and dealt Britt, Ollie, and Lu a yellow card.
“But you already gave us these,” Britt said.
The man smiled, a mirror image of his card, and turned to Devin.
“I don’t want that,” Devin said. The man smiled even wider and tucked the card into Devin’s shirt pocket.
“Get your hands off me!” Devin yelped, but the man was already moving on, his canvas bag parting the sea of shirts. Lu marveled at the man’s audacity. Nobody touched Devin. Nobody gave him stuff he didn’t want. Nobody gave him stuff he
did
want. Once, Lu had bought him expensive boots he’d been begging for after watching him slog through the snow in his Converse sneakers, after listening to him complain about his frozen feet. A month later, in a box in the laundry room, she found the boots, lacy with cobwebs.
“Is that guy crazy?” said Britt.
“Now I’ve got one card for each hand,” Ollie said.
“
You’re
crazy.” Devin yanked the card from his pocket and ripped it in half. The two pieces fluttered from his hands like moths.
“Why did you do that?” Ollie said. “Lu, he ripped the man’s card.”
“But he didn’t rip yours, so everything’s okay, right?” Lu could tell that Ollie wasn’t buying her logic, but he chose not to protest. That was a miracle in and of itself.
Devin was glaring at the man’s back as the man stalked off into the lingerie section, handing his card off to two unsuspecting old ladies buying Tummy Tamers. “If that guy comes near me again, if he freaking touches me again . . . ,” he said, trailing off.
“Relax, Dev,” Britt said. “Here. I found a shirt for you.”
Heck is for people who don’t believe in gosh.
Devin yanked the shirt off the hanger and threw it across the men’s department.
“All right, that’s enough!” said Lu. “What’s gotten into you guys?”
Devin didn’t bother to respond, retreating into his usual fog of people-be-gone. Ollie continued to beg for the
This is my clone
T-shirt, making Lu’s gums ache with irritation. Britt merely smiled and held up one last shirt, one with a line she recognized instantly from the movie
Jaws: I think you’re going to need a bigger boat.
Lu led her boyfriends from Carson’s and out into the mall, moving swiftly toward the bookstore. Surely there was something there that the boys could get Ward. A Dilbert calendar, the latest business book that Ward would never open, a crossword puzzle collection. A sign at the entrance of the store screamed author signing today! but no names were mentioned. Lu thought it was pretty funny.
“Look,” she said. “Anonymous author signings!”
“So?” said Ollie.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Britt said.
“Loopy! Britt said ‘hell’!” Ollie blared.
“And so did you,” Britt said.
Lu sighed. “Can we stay focused, please?” she said. “Think: Gifts for Dad, gifts for Dad, gifts for Dad. It’s your purpose, your mantra. It is the central idea around which your life revolves.”
This attempt at humor got another “Huh?” from Ollie and a blank stare from Devin. Britt, however, laughed. Britt the Fork-Tongued, Britt the Berserker, the “problem” child—the one who had gotten himself suspended from school as well as every sports team he joined—had recently become her favorite. And it wasn’t because she recognized herself in him,
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