The Last Day

FIFTY-NINE

It was dark when Alice lucked out and found a parking spot very close to a towering green painted metal sculpture resembling blades of grass. She wondered if it was designed to make people see what it felt like to be insects. It seemed to her that lots of things in society were designed to make people feel less significant than they were.

Alice walked toward three young men smoking cigarettes near the entrance. She straightened as she approached, and measured them for attractiveness. Two of the boys were sort of fat, and all three were wearing baggy shorts and T-shirts with smart- ass messages printed on them. There was one guy who was taller, and skinny-just her type-and she made eye contact with him. He looked over at her and his eyes lit up, so she slowed.

“Hey, good looking!” he said, smiling. “Where you been all my life?”

Alice stopped and smiled widely, keeping her lips together so her braces didn't show. And she waved.

“Looking for you,” a high- pitched voice re plied from behind her.

Alice turned to see three girls closing from behind, and, as they passed Alice, the boys straightened and posed like models in anticipation.

“You're late,” one of the fat boys said to the girls.

Alice felt embarrassed, disappointed, and invisible. And she felt anger growing within her.

She slumped, tightened the grip on her black cloth carry bag, and strode purposefully into the entrance, the sounds of youthful laughter closing on her back in rhythmic waves. She heard n one of the girls say, “That little kid thought you were talking to her!”

Alice walked slowly past the shop windows, pausing here and there to check out merchandise, imagining owning some of the items and picturing as well how ownership of each would make her feel. In a matter of minutes she found herself nearing the food court entrance and the smells of a hundred food items hit her like a wave. She skulked on, clenching the strap of her bag like someone was going to grab it and take off running.

Alice checked herself out in a dark shop window, and what she saw made her wonder why the boys hadn't been attracted to her. She looked younger than she was, and she supposed they had imagined that she was too young for them, but she was prettier than any of the other girls had been by a mile.

She thought about Mr. McCarty and how nice he'd been to her, and she had been sure that was because he was attracted to her. He deserved to have his toy car taken, since he was a sexual predator. Everybody knew it. In fact he deserved to be punished, and giving her his money-which was just to keep her from telling the cops that he tried his moves on her-was him being afraid of additional proof that he was guilty of being an old pedophile.

She braced herself and walked into the food court, scanning the tables, looking for the man who'd stopped her on campus.

After a few seconds she saw him seated at a table, waving just his fingers at her. She hesitated a few seconds, then nodded and walked over to him.