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The Shepherdess Visits the Mall By Tony Kinney. Bo took a deep drag off of her clove cigarette, burning it down to the filter. She exhaled the fetid smoke into the fishbowled cab of her pickup and gazed towards her destination. "The Mall," Bo snarled as she crushed her spent cigarette against the dashboard, watching the ashes float to the cab floor like toxic snowflakes. She had scoured the local coffee bars, the 24-hour restaurants, and even local churches in search of her flock. In her estimation she had hit the bottom of the barrel. As Bo exited her black Ford pickup a cloud of smoke emptied out alongside her. Bo removed her purse, her black, oaken shepherd�s rod and locked her door. As she moved towards the main doors she took notice of all the mini-vans and SUVs and felt her mouth fill with bilious disgust. She coughed heavily, bending at the waist, and spat out a large wad of brown mucus. Bo wiped her mouth with a leather glove and removed another clove from her purse. "These things are gonna kill me," Bo said and laughed to herself bitterly. As Bo entered the double doors of the ominous structure she inhaled the crisp, air-conditioned oxygen and let loose with a coughing fit sure to inspire any wayward teen of the damages caused by smoking. Meanwhile a nearby security guard approached her with the utmost speed. "Excuse me Miss," he mechanically croaked. "There is no smoking in the Mall." he sternly crossed his arms and imposed his authority upon her. "Please extinguish your cigarette in the nearest outdoor receptacle." Bo dropped the clove on the tiled floor and stamped it out with the heel of her thigh-high black vinyl boot. "Oops, I dropped it," Bo sarcastically said as she pushed her way past the radio-wielding security guard. The guard froze for a moment, all his authority stripped from him, and decided to go push around children at the arcade. Bo continued onward into the Mall, passing a barren electronics shop, an empty herbal medicine shop and a the boarded-up remnants of a cheese and meat shop. "Where is my freakin� flock!?" Bo griped to herself. Suddenly the vinyl-clad shepherdess saw exactly what she was looking for: an information kiosk! Bo rushed to the large plastic map and gazed upon the neon representations of the Mall�s venues. "Who in Jehovah�s name needs four kinds of the Gap!?" Bo thought to herself in amazement. Bo quickly placed a vinyl-gloved fingertip upon her first destination. "The food court!" Bo excitedly exclaimed. "I�m sure to find some of my flock there!" with a renewed vigor Bo grabbed a map and headed towards the food court. As she approached the semi-circular food enclave Bo searched about for any signs of her flock. There were a few scattered teens, with shopping bags in hand, and a few mothers trying to control their hyperactive, Pok�mon obsessed children. Then Bo heard the incoherent chatter that only comes from teenagers and moved towards the source. Sitting on top of several tables were four teenagers clad in puffy yellow and black jackets and stocking caps. Bo caught the eye of the alpha male as she approached the gang sign-throwing teens. "Yo, yo, yo!" the alpha male of the group exclaimed excitedly. "Lookit� the freaky chicken, peeps!" Bo smiled apprehensively, not knowing if she had just been insulted or complimented. The alpha male made many a suggestive comment with his hands and mouth as Bo came within range to smell his Chahlupa breath and notice the Taco Shack employee uniform under his painfully yellow jacket. "So, you work at the Taco Shack or what?" Bo inquired with a raised eyebrow. "How you know that?" the alpha male asked, confused by Bo�s observation. "I saw your work shirt, silly," Bo casually responded. "Oh, yeah. Well that�s just a part-time gig," he hastily shot back. "I�m really a rap artist." "Oh really?" "Yeah, I�m called �Ludicrazy.� I can hook you up with tickets to a show sometime. . .if you hook me up with your num-" "Look �J�," Bo grabbed the Shack employee by his shirt collar "I�m not looking for tickets. I�m looking for my flock." "Yo� what?" Cretaceous J asked. "My flock of sheep. They�re missing. I came here to find them." "Yo, yo. I aint seen no sheep," J whimpered. "Now step off before I be gettin hard-core on you!" Bo let go of the nervously sweaty gangster and glanced at his friends. The first waved odd-finger configurations in her face, while the other two remained silent, their hoods covered. "Who are your friends? The ones in the hoods?" "Oh �dem?" J pointed. "�Dats Leroy, and �dats Devon." "They seem awfully shy," Bo observed as she moved towards the two cloaked thugs. "Let�s see if they make any noise without their hoods!" Bo quickly removed the hood�s hoods. From the bright yellow jackets sprang her two stray sheep onto the tables. "Jacoby and Edward! I knew it was you two!" Bo exclaimed harshly. With alacrity Bo placed collars around the two sheep and connected the leashes to the steel ringlets on her belt. The two real thugs sat shocked and confused as Bo took her two wayward sheep and continued on through the mall. As Bo wandered the mall she removed her map and began looking for possible places to find the three stray sheep which remained. As Bo scrutinized her map she also scanned her immediate surroundings. She was leaning up against an unused ATM which was tagged with markings only intelligible to what must pass for the local gang. Nearby stood three similarly neglected phones; two of which lacked the proper keys or even the receiver to make a call. Bo observed further, noting a fountain, into which she watched a man and his female acquaintance re-enact the long held tradition of dropping coins into the fountain, while disenchanted teens on the other side rolled up their sleeves and delved into the chilly water in search of currency. Bo folded up her map, placing it back in her purse and regarded her recovered herd members. "Some strong-arm tactics are definitely in order here," Bo thought to herself as she attempted to grab the attention of her sheep. "Do you two know where to find the others?" Bo asked her repossessed flock members. "We don�t know anything. We all split up the second we got into the mall," Jacoby coldly responded. Bo bent down and grabbed Jacoby by his wool. "You better not be lying to me. Because right now I am severely nicking-out. So If I don�t get out of here soon I might do something I may come to regret." Bo looked from Jacoby to Edward and gave a maniacal grin. "Now are you going to tell me where they went . . ." "Pedro was talking about eye-liner and fishnet shirts!" Edward squealed with terror. "That�s all we know, honest!" "That�s better," Bo exclaimed happily, "now let�s get over to Spooky Palace, the goth store." Bo eagerly dragged her sheep towards the outcast store. It�s exterior metal framework, black walls, and booming techno-goth-industrial-spooky music were a harsh contrast to the cream colors, soft rock, and transparent glass exterior of nearly every other store contained within the mall. Bo was now in her element. She weaved around the body piercing displays and wallet chains, past the backpacks and stalkings, and towards a gaggle of goth geese who were in the corner giggling over a goth comic book. Bo coughed noticeably and quickly gained the attention of the group. They took in her vinyl tube-top, which was connected via chains to her vinyl skirt and her fishnet stalkings and quickly brought forth their most dark and gloomy member of the group to greet her. "Hello dark one, I am Asmodeus, Lord of the night and all things greasy," the oily teen said and made a grandiose gesture of great gloominess. "Hi Asmodeus. I�m Bo," she replied, confused by the teen�s gesticulating. "Welcome Bo, to the Spooky Palace. This is where we �darklings� meet." "That and the MSG Hut!" one of the other children squeaked. "Quiet Demetrinominus! Don�t give away all of our haunts to this stranger!" Asmodeus hissed at his cohort. Bo spoke up, "It�s all right. I�m just looking for a member of my flock." "Your flock? Like a flock of sheep?" Asmodeus asked as he raised a dark eyebrow. "Exactly," Bo retorted. "Well, we have no sheep here. If we did, they would be dark sheep. You know you remind me of a very dark lady I once had the pleasure of ignoring. . ." as Asmodeus began his mindless gothic chatter Bo began to scan his friends for a sign of Pedro. Bo noticed all of them were wearing eye-liner, except for one boy who was wearing mirror-shades. While Asmodeus continued his ranting Bo pushed past him and moved towards the boy wearing the shades. He twitched nervously and began to stare at the floor, avoiding Bo�s permeating gaze at all costs. "I bet you have pretty eyes," she said smugly as she tore off his shades. Immediately a flash of white escaped from the black clothes and landed with all four hooves on the dark tiled floor. "Ah-ha! Caught you Pedro!" Bo triumphantly yelled as she collared her sheep. "Pedro?" Asmodeus asked quizzically. "You told us your name was Twillite!" "Sorry to ruin your fun kiddies," Bo responded, "but this sheep was mine first." The shepherdess attached Pedro�s leash to her ring and led her three sheep outside. Once through the double doors Bo took out a clove and greedily inhaled on her cigarette. "So Pedro," Bo asked as she exhaled, "where is everyone else." Pedro turned around and stiffly snubbed his master. "Like I should say anything to you!" he sneered. "You took me away from my only friends!" "Look Pedro," Bo snapped the leash, forcing Pedro to face her, "I am your Shepherdess. You are the sheep. If you want to be goth I can dye your wool black and you can sit in the corner of the pasture and sneer at the other sheep. But now you have to help me find Jeremy and Edith." "Do, do you promise?" the sheep asked bluntly. "I promise you Pedro," Bo responded whole-heartedly. "Now where are the others?" Pedro sighed and thought for a moment. "The last that I heard, they were going to the airport to become Hari Khrisnas." "Well," Bo said as she flicked her cigarette butt out into the street, "It looks like we�re going to the airport." To Be Continued |
