THIS Is Me... (26 page)

  Suddenly, feeling my arm tugged, I panic!  Spinning around and covering my head as best as I can, I collapse on the floor to evade the men.  Waiting for the blows, I breathe in short bursts as my mind spins. 

  Why does this always happen to me?!  I thought I would be safe in a public place.  I thought for sure I was safe!
  “Mam, are you alright?”  What?
  Looking up I see a Security Guard standing over me, not a man.  Well, not a bad man.  What the hell?
  “Yes, I'm fine.  Why?”  Crap, my voice is all raspy and breathy.
  “Can you stand?”  He asks kindly.
  “I think so,” I pause trying to stand on my own, but when he reaches for my hand, I pull away again.  “Why did you touch me?” I beg.
  “I was trying to get your attention.  Do you need any medical assistance?”  Um...
  “No.  Why?”  Shit. 

  Looking around, this is so embarrassing.  There are so many people stopping to look at me.  I'm suddenly surrounded by gawkers and nosy bitches loving the show.  Oh my god.  I hate when people see me. 

  “Can you make them stop seeing me?” I whisper.
  When the Security Guard leans down to me, I don't flinch this time.  He doesn't look mean or angry, just concerned.  Thank god.  I couldn't stand meanness right now.  I just need to get home.
  “Let me help you up,” he smiles kindly.
  “Thank you.”
  Putting his hand behind my back and taking my right hand in his own, he pulls me to a stand with him.  Listing a little to the left, he tightens his grip on me.
  “I'm sorry my face is ugly now.  It wasn't before.  It was just plain, but now it's ugly.  I'm sorry.”
  “What's your name?” 
  “Suzanne Anderson,” and looking I see his is Kevin.  Didn't I just meet a Kevin?  No, Kora.  Kevin and Kora, cute.  She would have to be his cougar though, because he looks about 30ish to lovely Kora’s 55 years.  Cool.

  “Why did you touch me Kevin?”
  “I was trying to call you to a stop.  I called you a few times, but I don't think you heard me.”
  “Oh.  Did you know my name then?”  Shit.  Do I know him?
  “No.  Actually, I said 'excuse me' and 'hey you' a few times but you ignored me,” he grins.
  “Oh.  Well, I only answer to Suzanne now.  That's what my name is, well always was, but IS… especially now.  I am Suzanne Anderson, and nothing else.  Now, I'm just Suzanne.” 
  Looking around I see people still stopped near us watching and listening.  Jesus!  Could this be any more embarrassing?  Turning my back to the people, I'm flush with a dark glass window of a knick-knack store. 
  Oh FUCK!  I've done it again.  Okay, breathe.  Shit.  There I am.  Mascara everywhere, looking like a freak again.  Shit.  Shit.  SHIT!  But I'm okay.  I
know
I am.  How did I do this?  I know better than this.  I'M better than this.
  “Kevin, I'm sorry.  I screwed up.  I'm not supposed to get this upset, and I'm not supposed to cry in public.  I made a mistake but I didn't realize it until now.  I have to go.  I have to go home now before Mack and Kayla find out.  Shit.  Please don't tell Z.  I'm fine now, I swear.  I'm not freaked out anymore, I promise.”
  Feeling my body shaking, I'm just sick over this mistake.  God Dammit!  Mack should be able to go away for 2 friggin' days without ‘Suzanne the Psycho’ coming out to play. 
  “Mrs. Anderson, I need to talk to you in private.  Would you please follow me, and we'll get away from all these people,” he says quietly to me.
  “I swear I'm okay Kevin.  I'm just going to go home now.  I'll flag a cab and be out of here in a minute.  I'm fine.  I'm not a Psycho.  Well, not like
that
anymore.  This is not a nervous breakdown either because Mack said.  So I'm fine.  I just forgot my anxiety medicine, but I'm going home to get it.  Please...”
  When Kevin bends back down he picks up my bags and looks back at me with sadness, I think.  Oh, no.
  “I'm okay, I promise.  Please don't look like that,” I beg.
  “Mrs. Anderson, you have to come with me.  The manager at Felice saw you steal this dress from the store,” he says calmly lifting the dress to me. 
  Oh. My.
GOD!
  “I didn't steal that, I swear!  I don't know how I have that.  I would never steal,” I scream.  “I would never take something.  I didn't do it.  I didn't mean to.  I don't know how I did that!”  Fuck.  I can't breathe.
  No longer looking so nice, Kevin takes my burned arm in his hand and says, “I'm sure you didn't steal it Mrs. Anderson, but you still have to come with me.”
  Bursting into tears I am just shocked by this situation.  This can’t be happening.  Who
does
this?  Who would want to?  Just the humiliation alone is SO not worth the risk of shoplifting.  I would never do this!  I
didn't
do this. 
  Trying to pull my arm away, Kevin holds tighter.  Oh god.  Not my skin.  Not my burns.  I don't want him to feel them through my blouse.
  “Please Kevin, I promise I didn't do this.  I didn't realize I was holding the dress when I left the store, I swear.  I have more than enough money to pay for it.  Look at my new 'Suzanne with a twist' boots!  They were over a hundred and sixty dollars!” 
  Quickly opening up my other bag, I grab all my underwear and hold them up to his face.  When the huge bra drops to the floor I scoop it up and slip it up my arms so it’s against my boobs and yell, “See!  This sucker doesn't even fit yet, but I bought it anyway in case, and it was forty-five dollars.  Look, all this underwear cost over two hundred!  Look at all my new underwear!  Why the hell would I steal a twenty dollar dress?  And look at all my new UNDERWEAR!” Ha!  There.  See!  That makes sense.
  Turning for a second I see a man looking at me like I'm crazy.  Actually, he has a look of utter disgust on his face.  Why? 
  “Don't look at me like that!”  I scream at the man.  “What did I do to you to deserve
that
look?”  Christ!  I still can't breathe.
  Staring at Kevin again, I take it all in as he stares back at me silently.  Holy SHIT!  Ex
hale…
  I'm crying and shaking and barely breathing and yelling and waving humongous underwear around in the middle of a fucking mall with a gigantic bra against my chest, cupping my boobs.  Besides Kevin, I see other people looking embarrassed too.  Embarrassed for me or because of me?  Who can tell?  Jesus
Christ...
I'm a freak!
  Whoosh. 

  Oh. My. GOD. 
Again? 
Oh, come ON!  Why shopping? 
Why SHOPPING?! 
Why not at the dentist, or on a tall ladder, or at the gynecologist, or, or boarding a plane like a normal person?  Why the hell must I freak the fuck out while shopping?!
  I can't do anything right, no matter how hard I try.  Wiping away the mascara on my cheeks with my hands, I know I've smeared my caked on cover the scars make-up, but what else can I do?

  Exhaling all the crazy out of me, I sigh my defeat. 
  “I'm so sorry, Kevin.  Where should we go?”
  Picking up the bag from the floor, I throw all my underwear and my bra back in.  Holding my huge boot box with my killer heels, I give in.  What's the point?  I've screwed up again.
  “Mrs. Anderson, I'm very sorry,” he whispers.  God, he looks honestly upset by this.
  “It's okay.  You're just doing your job, and I must look like a crazy shoplifter.  I get it.  Can we just go?”
  Nodding, Kevin takes my arm again and though I flinch a little at his touch I don't fight his grip this time.  This time I give in.  This time, I'm ready. 
  God, I need my anti-anxiety meds.  I didn't even realize before that they helped because I always took them because Mack makes me take them, but now I see I actually do need them.

  I’ve often wondered if I was a junkie or like totally dependent on my meds.  Well, I guess I have my answer now.  I am and I totally do.  And I am so screwed this time.
  Walking quietly through the mall beside Kevin my face is lowered and as covered as I can with my hair.  Kevin even tries to talk to me kindly a few times, but I just can't.  This feels like walking to my mother when she was mad at me.  I knew I didn't do anything wrong then but I was going to be punished anyway.  Now, I didn't do anything wrong
on purpose
but it was still bad and I'm still going to be punished.
  I am absolutely humiliated and sad that I failed this adventure.  I wish I had been able to do this on my own.  God, I don't want Mack and Kayla to be disappointed in me, but they will be and I know I'll deserve their disappointment this time.
  When we enter a large room, there are other security guards and cameras and stuff everywhere.  I see the monitors and I just know they all saw me freak out and I'm horribly embarrassed to be here with them.
  When another man walks up to us, Kevin tells him my name.  Shit.  Here we go.  Suzanne Anderson.  Hopefully they don't have a clue I'm THE Suzanne Anderson- ‘Mental case, Nut bar, Sexual Abuse Victim Extraordinaire’.  Hopefully, I'm just some generic crazy shoplifter to them.  One could only dream.
  “Mrs. Anderson, do you know why you were apprehended by Security?”
  “Yes.  It appears that I shoplifted a twenty dollar dress, which I promise was a mistake.  I didn't realize I was still holding the dress when I left the store.  I just wanted to get home quickly because I was suffering from anxiety and I forgot my medication at home,” I confess.
  “So leaving Felice with the dress was accidental?”  He looks like I'm a complete asshole liar.
  “Yes, sir.  I'm sorry.”  Great!  Now I'm a child again, apologizing always.  The sound of the words 'I'm sorry' make me sick.  I hate this feeling.  “I can pay for the dress, I promise.  I have the money and it was a complete accident leaving the store with it.”
  “Was it?”  Okay, head Security Guard Stanley looks like I'm a total lying loser, and I'm sure to him I am.  I'm sure he's heard all these excuses before.  I'm sure he thinks I'm just like every other shoplifter in the mall.
 Again, I sigh my defeat.  “You can call my best friend, Dr. Michael MacDonald and ask him.  I have lots of money but I got confused and stressed and freaked out in the store and I just wanted to get home, but I didn't know I was still holding the dress when I left.  I just don't understand.  I didn't touch anything red...”
  “Red?” 
  “Yes,
red.
  Forget it.  It really doesn't matter anymore.  Nothing does.  What do we do now?  Do we call the Police?”  Maybe Mack and Kayla don't need to help me.  Maybe they don't need to know. 

  “Wait!  Detective Rogers and Detective Bennici- Oh!  And D.A. Rose know me.  And they can tell you I have money, and that I'm good, and that I wouldn't steal anything, and that I'm Suzanne Anderson, and that I'm not a bad person.”  Thank god I thought of them.  Please.  Please. 
Please
, call them.
  “D.A. Rose?  As in the District Attorney of Chicago?”  Okay, I see the bullshit-o-meter going off in his head, and I can almost feel him trying not to laugh at me.
  “Yes, him.  I have his card in my wallet.  Can I get it?”
  “Sure,” he smiles. 
  Looking at Kevin, I'm so sad I think I'm going to cry again.  Actually, I think I was crying this whole time but just didn't realize it until this moment.  It's weird how that happens.  Obviously, I feel myself when I'm sobbing, but sometimes when I'm silently crying I don't even realize it until I'm covered in tears.  I wonder if that's because the nerves are shot in half my face.  Giggle.  I should ask Mack if that's possibly the reason.  Shit.  Focus!
  Going through my wallet I pull out my cash which is over a hundred in bills and whisper, “See.  I could've paid if I'd known,” while I look for the business card of Mr. Rose.  Finding it and handing it over to Stanley, I just wait.  Huh.  He looks surprised that I had the card.  I should really ask if I'm allowed to call Glenn myself.
  “Would you like me to call him?  He put his cell number on the card for me.”
  “Ah, sure.  If you want.”  He looks even more surprised.  Wow.  I feel a little less pathetic and upset suddenly as I start dialing.
  When Glenn answers his clipped ‘Rose’, I'm instantly relieved.  He has such a nice strong voice that has always been very kind to me the dozen or so times we've spoken.  He doesn't seem to take shit from anybody though, which I guess he wouldn't as the D.A. of friggin' Chicago.
  “Mr. Rose, this is Suzanne Anderson.  I'm in some trouble and-”
  “Have you been threatened, Suzanne?” He demands.
  “No!  Not like that, I-”
  “Speaker phone,” Stanley states beside me.
  Nodding to Stanley I ask, “Mr. Rose, may I put you on speaker phone?  I'm in the Security office at Fairfield Mall.”
  “Go ahead,” he says as I hear shuffling on his phone.  Putting my iPhone on speaker I just wait for a second.  Christ!  This is embarrassing.
  “Please identify yourself,” Stanley demands.
  “This is District Attorney Glenn Rose.  And your name is?”
  “Stanley Hamilton of Amble Security stationed at Fairfield Mall.”
  “All right Stanley, badge number?”  Yikes.  This feel very testosterony suddenly.
  “4-6-4.  D.A. Rose, I have Suzanne Anderson here with me and she’s been apprehended for shoplifting-”
  Glenn suddenly barks a laugh, which amazingly makes me smile and prompts me to confess.
  “It was an accident Mr. Rose!  I started getting anxiety at the mall, and I forgot my medication and I left a store quickly to go get a cab so I could go home, and Kevin, the other security guard here grabbed my arm-” Kevin flinches.
  “Are you hurt, Suzanne?” Glenn asks seriously.
  “No, I just freaked out and fell down when he touched me but he wasn't mean, I just, you know how I am with men and touch and, and the other stuff.  Anyway, Kevin showed me the dress I was still holding but I didn't mean to take it, I swear.  I already bought a bunch of things, and I have more money in my wallet than the dress even costs plus, well, you know I have more money than twenty dollars, but I really didn't mean to take it.  I
wouldn't
take it.  It was an accident.  And now I look like a thief and a Psycho-”
  “Suzanne-”
  “Wait.  Please.  I can pay for the dress.”
  “I know you can.  What was the cost?”
  “Twenty dollars plus tax,” I confess.
  “Are you are willing to pay restitution, Suzanne?”  What restitution?
  “Um, yes.  I'll pay anything.  It was a complete accident.”
  “Security Agent Hamilton, I would like you to take thirty dollars of Suzanne's money to the store in which the incident occurred and I would like you to please handle this matter discretely.  I do not want Ms. Anderson's name becoming public and I will be very angry should this situation become known beyond just us.  My office will NOT be pressing any charges and the Police do NOT need to be called.  There will be no record of this event with her name anywhere.  Ms. Anderson is a very important State's Witness and I need her anonymity to stay that way.  Am I clear, Hamilton?” 
  “Perfectly,” Stanley says a little jazzed.  I thought he would resent this, but he looks almost excited that he's involved in something legal sounding.  This is getting too weird.
  I feel like I can finally breathe a little.  I feel like I'm not in trouble anymore.  I feel like I'm not a little girl facing her mother for her punishments.
  “Where's Mack, Suzanne?”  Whooooosh.
  “In New York,” I whisper.
  “Okay.  Go straight home and take care of yourself.  Would you like me to contact Mack or your doctor for you?”  God no!
  “No!  I mean, no thank you Mr. Rose.  I'll see Mack tomorrow, and I'm fine.  I'm just going to go home with my new underwear.”  Oh! “Um-”
  “And your new dress,” he says laughing at me.
  “Thank you so much Mr. Rose.  I didn't know what else to do.”
  “Suzanne, you know we have a ‘call me anytime’ policy, and I'm pleased you finally used it.  I'm glad I could help you.  Go home Suzanne.  And Hamilton!” Glenn suddenly barks making Stanley, Kevin and I all jump.  “Make sure Ms. Anderson is escorted directly to a waiting cab immediately.  I'll be checking in later to make sure she made it home safely.  Understood?”
  “Yes, sir.  I'll make sure she gets home safely.  Thank you, District Attorney Rose,” Stanley says all stern and officially.  What a dork.  Honestly.
  When Glenn hangs up I feel remarkably better.  I wasn't arrested and no one has to know about this.  I probably don't even need to tell Mack.  Thank god. 
  Walking out with Stanley I realize I did learn two very important lessons today.  First; Shopping is out without Mack, and second; I NEED my meds.
  After getting in the cab with Stanley's help, I'm desperate to get home.  This day has been shit, and I feel gross and cried out, and shaky and just desperate for the closed door of the boring place I call home. 
  I need my yoga pants and I need to park my fat ass in front of some Grey's Anatomy to release this failed attempt at normalcy.  I need to order a pizza and I need to release this stress with mindlessness and food.
  When I enter my apartment, I quickly remove my new 'Suzanne with a Twist' boots and exhale.  Half expecting a message from Mack I make my way to the answering machine nervously. I hope Glenn didn't call him.  I hope he knew I was embarrassed and decided to keep this between us- well, between us, and Stanley and Kevin.
  With no blinking light, I'm free!  Holy shit!  I did it.  I fucked up totally but I wasn't caught by Mack, so I'm okay.  After these last 5 hours of completely mental I can finally exhale... AND take my meds.