Chapter 17
Shopping and a Confrontation
On the way home from the family visit, the Johansson’s decided to stop at the mall. For some reason, even with the fact that it took nearly twenty minutes for Sara Johansson to explain to Kile what it was, and how it was different than keeping the skulls of pets as a remembrance of various domesticated troll animals, she thought it would be nice to get the little creature a souvenir of his stay with their family. It was probably not the best of plans, but fortunately since the second was a weekday and was therefore not quite close enough to Independence Day such that everyone were out on vacations from work, looking for movies and other entertainment at the mall just yet.
The first store they went into was mostly influenced by Robert, though Kile was the one that pressed. Video games were not suitable souvenirs in mother’s opinion, particularly since he was a troll, living in a cave, disconnected from electricity and civilization. But after some careful conversation on the part of the troll with help from Robert, and about forty-five minutes of testing just about every game on display, the Johanssons agreed to purchase an older, used version of a hand-held gaming system that ran on batteries or could be charged. Mother and father were still dubious of whether or not Kile had a way of charging the system, but they figured it would be easy enough for him to pilfer batteries from time to time. He got a collection of various older game cartridges for a couple dollars each too. These were all tucked into a backpack they purchased at the next shop, a large super-store and department store combined in one and attached to the Mall at one end. The backpack was among some that were screen printed by local manufacturers with various city names and logos on them from the area. Kile picked out one that proudly said, “Maple Springs,” in arched lettering above a multi-colored print of a large maple tree and a stream or river flowing by it. An Elk stood opposite the tree. To the little troll it represented an amazing capacity of humans: mobile art. To the Johanssons it was a cheap solution to the souvenir question as it was basically a child’s small and nearly useless backpack, priced accordingly.
They had just about concluded their shopping trip with the second purchase when on the way out of the mall Robert pointed out the custom T-Shirt shop right next to the tie store. There were a number of tie-died shirts with names emblazoned upon them in large designs.
“Hey, Kile! I bet we could get one with your name on it,” Rob mentioned.
Kile, still entranced by the variety of colors and patterns on the shirts (another apparently amazing human feat of engineering, design and art) was slow to answer. “Yeeeaaahhhhh…” he drawled in a low exhale of awe.
After about ten minutes of searching through they realized they’d either have to settle for a “Richard,” “Rich,” or “Kyle” shirt. The attendant did indicate they can custom print a name, even if it was a mis-spelling and caused the clerk to raise one eyebrow in response. But it would take at least two days to get the order completed. The group all agreed that “Kyle” was the most suitable to send home with the little troll. It could be his “human spelling” of his name according to Ricky Jr. and be another souvenir of his time with them.
All settled up and looking forward to the “massive explosions that sound like thunder” as Rob described them in two evenings, mother and father stopped for just a moment while the boys ate a hotdog on a stick from the food court and used the $1 massage chairs. They were holding hands and relaxing, commenting on how much they were looking forward to Little Ricky’s return when it happened, so they were not alerted until the security guard brought a soaking wet disguised troll and older brother back to them.
After eating his hotdog with lots of the yellow and red butter stuff squeezed all over it, Kile noticed the water fountain. There was a young man and woman sitting close together on the bench edge around it. After the couple showers he’d had in the Johansson home, this large pool whose bottom could be seen, with coins and other artifacts thrown in, was just a little too tempting. The troll jumped in.
“Kile! You can’t go in there!” Rob yelled.
The couple stood up and turned around with the commotion and was nearly splashed by Kile’s attempts to outrun Robert’s reach into the pool to catch him.
Dashing through the water as quickly as his short little legs could carry him through the resistance of about sixteen inches of water, Kile was laughing his head off. Bathing was so fun! Especially in warm waters. He imagined what the other trolls would think if he could build a tub or shower in which they could see through the water, straight to the bottom and have no fear of drowning.
Finally, Robert jumped in too. He splashed over to Kile where the little troll had stooped to cup some water in his hands and throw it in the air. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Rob spun him and squeezed him closely, locking him in place.
Through finely gritted teeth, he whispered, “Kile! The water will give you away!”
Kile froze instantly, laughing halted. He looked at his hands. Where the water trickled down his palms and wrists he could tell immediately his glimmer was going to be pierced. He wondered how much water he’d gotten on his face and body. Looking down he saw large trollish feet shimmering below the surface of the water. Silt was flowing away from him and ethereal moving clouds of the stuff slowly drifted in towards the center of the pool where the pedestal fountain drew up the water and spouted it back out the top in a small flow.
Robert looked about. The couple was staring dumb-founded, not entirely sure what they were seeing it would seem. The boy had his hands on a pair of sunglasses that had been sitting on his scalp and was flipping them down in front of his eyes, looking for a moment, and then back again. Across the food court the two young women behind the hotdog-on-a-stick shop were squinting to peer at the little kid, still half smiling and laughing about the incident, but unsure what they were witnessing too. A couple other people had slowed from further distances and observed the scene, shaking heads and muttering to their companions about ill-behaved children, but really no others seemed to be affected by a failing glimmer. None, it seemed, except the security guard standing just behind them, outside the ring of the fountain pool.
“C’mon. You’ve had your fun. Get out now and let’s find your parents, before I go ahead and call in the police.”
Robert turned and half dragged the troll behind him to step out of the fountain.
“Wha?” choked the security guard upon looking closer at the little boy. “What’s wrong with your little brother? He looks like he has a disease or something.”
“Oh? Uh…” Rob stalled for an answer. He quickly looked at Kile to assess what the guard may be seeing and realized for the most part the glimmer was holding. The image of Little Ricky was a little gray-green looking, and his nose, dripping with water seemed excessively large and bumpy. But all-in-all he was still mostly human looking. Ugly human looking.
“I’m sick…” Kile said, and produced a fake cough.
The officer looked from troll to older boy and back again, sneering. “Eeesh! Gonna probably have to have the cleaning crew come in, aren’t I?”
He peered around the pair of boys at the water and noted the cloudy effect from the dirt that had washed off of Kile. Yup, he thought. Gonna have to get that sanitized.
A quick march forty seconds later and the guard cleared his throat in front of a pair of parents. “Excuse me, are these your boys?”
Two pairs of eyes popped awake instantly. Ricky Jr. closed his again, smiled and said, “They’re hers.”
“Thanks a lot!” Sara said, smiling too.
“Well, I think we have a bit of a problem here. They’ve gotten the fountain all dirty and I’m going to have to shut it down to have it cleaned. We’re talking vandalism here if we want to get technical.”
“Technical?” Mom replied, more seriously. Her face had quickly turned to her irritated, red-headed temperament as she stood and folded her arms glowering at
the two boys. “Was there technically a sign on the fountain that prohibits wading in the fountain?”
“Well…No…It’s not necessary to…”
“Well, then, technically they didn’t do anything illegal did they? The spray nozzles at the water park next to the mall are there just for the purpose of splashing in them. Are you saying this fountain here, with no labels on it, is not for playing in?”
Mrs. Johansson was wagging a finger at the security guard by that point. He was getting the full Red treatment, including the eyes, the scowl, the little-too-close-for-comfort lean into the conversation.
“What? No…” The guard was struggling to find a retort, but he felt he’d zeroed in on the source of the boys’ bad behavior. “I mean, yes! It is definitely not for playing in!”
“Well, then, I suggest the management of this establishment place a placard or sign or something on that fountain in several places prohibiting it, or they’re going to end up with some serious liability issues!”
Kile turned to look at Robert, noticed his grin and smiled as well. The intent of mom’s tirade was even more clear as she turned towards the ridiculous side, smiling faintly herself whenever the guard was sheepish enough to look away.
“In fact,” she continued, “I probably need to speak to them about reimbursing me for these clothes of theirs that are probably going to shrink now. And how am I going to recompense my poor sickly son here for this trauma that you have caused him?”
Mrs. Johansson had snatched Kile away from Robert’s side and cradled him before her with one arm as she used the other to gesture vehemently and wag her finger in the guard’s nose.
Backing away, the security guard just said, “Just keep your kids out of the fountain, ma’am. And I suggest it might be about time to leave the mall since we’re closing in the next fifteen minutes or so anyway.”
“We’ll do that!” Mrs. Johansson said. “And I can assure you we won’t be returning our patronage to this mall any time soon.”
Finally standing as his massage chair finished its job, Mr. Johansson said quietly, “Well played. Worthy of the play house in Maple Springs.”
Robert grinned at his father and added, “There is no theater in Maple Springs, Dad.”
“Bingo!” Mom said, thumbing her finger. Then she punched her husband solidly on the shoulder.
As the family began moving towards the exit, Kile stood moderately perplexed. He watched them with a sideways smirk, sure there was some elaborate joke going on that he just hadn’t quite figured out. He wondered, has this happened before with Little Ricky?
Turning around to observe the guard, a faint grumble about crazy people from the sticks could be heard. The guard removed his cap, scratched his head and hustled off as quickly as he could in the opposite direction.
Troll Brother Page 44
