A Dusty Tires Short Story

By Dusty Tires

Mark entered the Rendville Park Mall by parking his Chevrolet outside the J.C. Penney Co. store as he usually did, and went in through the wide, gleaming glass doors. The doors entered directly into the men’s and women’s clothing departments, with a set of escalators going up and down to the second floor in the background.

Walking through the store, he went past the departments of shoes, then jewelry, watches and ladies’ perfumes in big, polished glass cases. Then the store opened into the very center of the mall. It was crowded there, with people bustling every direction with packages and bags.

Groups of middle-aged people in threes and fours stood and chatted after “bumping into each other.” Older men wearing short-sleeved plaid shirts and trucker hats sat on benches with their arms folded, waiting for their wives and talking with each other about last week’s football games. Teenage girls in faded bell-bottom jeans walked around in packs, giggling with each other about the cute boys who had just walked by.

Lazarus Department Store was at one end, Sears & Roebucks was at the other, with J.C. Penney’s and Woolworth’s in between. Numerous clothing and shoe stores made up most of the other stores, and he usually made sure to visit Radio Shack and B. Dalton Booksellers. Another place he always visited was the Lazarus Basement, where one could buy bargain record albums and irregular Levi’s blue jeans at a discount.

This afternoon was different. He came to the mall to pick up his girlfriend Ruthie for a date after she was done working behind the Penney’s watch and jewelry counter. He didn’t see her on his first walkthrough, but when he came back, she was there, pretty and trim in a white blouse and navy blue skirt. Her long dark-brown hair was worn in a tight bun, per store requirements.

“Hey, Ruthie,” he said. He moved toward her in a half-hearted attempt at a hug, then moved awkwardly away.

“Hi, Mark,” she replied shyly. She didn’t like showing too much of a display of affection at work, the way all the associates gossiped about each other. Besides, she and Mark had only been dating for three months.

“So what do you wanna do?” He flipped his longish blond hair out of his eyes as he spoke.

She regarded him for a moment. He was dressed in an Eagles “On The Border” t-shirt, faded blue Levi’s and tan suede shoes. He sure wasn’t dressed for the Brown Derby, she thought.

“What’s playing at the movie theater here tonight?”

“Um, let’s see — Rocky II, The Shining, Star Trek and The Muppet Movie.”

She smiled. “How about the Muppets? They’re silly, but funny.”

“Muppets it is,” he said. “It starts at 7. You hungry?”

“I’m starving. I only had a Pop Tart for breakfast and a Rice Krispies treat for lunch.”

“I guess you are starving!”

She went to clock out. He considered the options for dinner. Brown Derby was out of the question – too pricey and too fancy. On the opposite side of the spectrum was the Woolworth lunch counter. Something in between was needed.

Hmm. Maybe Pizza Hut or Lum’s. He finally decided on York Steak House. It was sort of classy, but still pretty cheap.

They walked out to his car, holding hands only after they had come out through the store’s glass doors into the parking lot. They got into his Chevy, which still smelled faintly of exhaust inside. He had just gotten a new muffler installed after several weeks of driving it with the muffler going bad, which had vented fumes into the passenger compartment.

Ruthie wrinkled her nose. “Did you get that exhaust fixed? It still smells in here.”

Mark assured her that he had and rolled down his window. He figured she was just hungry, and so was he. She was completely in agreement with his York Steak House idea. The restaurant was located in one of the many strip centers surrounding the mall.

Mark felt better after he had polished off a rib eye broiled medium-rare and a baked potato slathered with butter and sour cream, along with a salad and a Pepsi. Ruthie had broiled chicken and salad with an iced tea.

Following dinner, they went back over to the mall across the parking lot. They had a half hour before the movie started, so they went to Thom McAn so Ruthie could buy some new shoes for work. He had wanted to look at some new jeans he saw at J.P. Snodgrass, but they ran out of time and hurried over to the mall’s 4-screen movie theater.

At the movie, he was disappointed for allowing himself to be persuaded into a light comedy rather than the horror movie. A scary movie would have caused Ruthie to cling close to him in fright. But he admitted he didn’t like those kinds of movies either — life was scary enough. Especially with the hostage situation in Iran, which was constantly in the news.

The movie put both of them in a light-hearted mood, and after it was over, he drove her home and gave her a goodnight kiss at her front door that caused her to squirm in his arms and tell him breathlessly that they ought to stop, several times.

He finally got back into his Chevy and drove back to his home.

Many decades later, Mark found himself sitting on a bench in the mall. He idly ran a wrinkled hand through his thin silver hair. One or two people occasionally walked by. He nodded at them, and they sometimes nodded back. He shook his head, looked again, and realized he was alone. His beloved Ruthie was gone this year after 42 years of marriage.

Only a few places in the mall showed evidence of activity — those that had soldiered to the end had recently sold items like cellphone accessories, e-cigarettes, calendars and bathroom remodeling packages. The flagship anchors, along with the clothing, shoes, sporting goods and jewelry stores were long gone. There was no food court, nor even any pop or candy vending machines. Storefronts were empty. The mall was dark and quiet; an echo of its former self.

But when he listened intently, he could still hear the sounds of the mall that was once the thriving retail and social center of the community. The mall had mercilessly replaced the thriving businesses of Rendville downtown’s Main Street. Now it was itself supplanted by online retailers.

“Sir?” A voice jarred him. “Sir, what are you doing in here? This place is closed. You’ll have to leave. Sorry, sir.”

He looked up and saw a man in uniform with a silver “Mall Security” badge on his chest pocket.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

He stood up painfully and walked through an empty mall that was almost entirely closed down and vacant. The big, dirty glass doors squeaked as they let him out for a last time.

Walking out of the abandoned, dismal mall, he waited at the curb as an express delivery truck went by in a hurry. He got into his old Chevy and turned the ignition key. The car coughed into life, and he drove out of the potholed parking lot.

He did not look back.

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