I was in Junior High, my friend Dave and I went to Fairlaine Mall in Dearborn Michigan. Malls were still a new thing, so it was a big deal to go there, and we had to drive about forty minutes. His Aunt drove us, his five year seven year old cousin sitting in the front seat while Dave and I sat in the back seat with his cousin Rachel (who I was madly in love with, but afraid to utter a single word to). All the way there, she kept messing with him, poking at him and kicking him in the back seat. She was wearing these platform clogs (c.1980) and at one point, he pulled her shoe off and pretended he was going to throw it out the window onto the freeway. She was wearing white socks with a wide blue stripe that went across the top of her foot and under her arch, like trouser socks, but just a little more opaque. They were just thin enough that you could see her toes through the material. My heart was racing when he snatched her shoe, and she was so focused on Dave, and getting her shoe back, that I got a really good look at her stockinged foot. She started shrieking, hitting Dave, and we all got in trouble.
At the mall, Dave's Aunt went about her business and told us to meet back in two hours. She also told us to stay together with Rachel, because she was older (19).
Dave wasn't happy about it, but I was secretly thrilled with our assignment. When we were standing around waiting for Rachel to buy something in a store, I told Dave, "Man, Rachel was freaked when you snaked her shoe, that was really bogue."
Dave rose to the bait. " I should have done it man, hurled it. It would have been so bomb."
A while later, we were walking around the mall with Rachel and we got to the center. The center court in the mall was three stories tall, and it had a glass elevator, which was a real novelty back then. Rachel wanted to go on it so we did. We rode up and down a bunch of times, and Rachel was standing facing the back, hands on the handrail looking down on the center court. She was dipping (I didn't know it had a name back then), lifting her foot way out of her shoe. I elbowed Dave and pointed at the floor. He saw that her shoe was just sitting there, and just as the door was about to close, he kicked it really hard, sending it skidding out the door, and running out after it. I was stunned, and by the time a tried to follow him, it was too late, the door was closed.
Rachel tried to be real cool.
"He is such a little jerk," she said, craning her neck to look up as we descended. With a bored sigh, she stepped across the car with her stockinged foot and punched the button marked "3" again. "I'm gonna kill him," she said to no one in particular.
The car stopped at 2 and several middle aged women got in, glancing at Rachel's stockinged foot, but not saying anything. It seemed way to quiet in the elevator all of a sudden, and it seemed to take a long time to climb to the third floor. I stared at the floor, shifting my eyes to the left and looking directly at Rachel's sock. It was fantastic.
Her foot was narrow with a high arch, and her toes were long and thin with her second to slightly longer than the first. Her thin white sock was pulled tight, and there was a tiny snag on the outside edge of her heel. I wished the moment would last forever, but it didn't.
The door opened and the ladies got off while Rachel stood there expectantly, looking ultra cool and somewhat bored by it all. When Dave failed to appear with the shoe, she seemed very surprised. The Ice Princess evaporated, replaced now with an irate tough chick.
"Where the hell is he?" she snarled.
The door started to close and the tough chick evaporated too, replaced now with a nervous schoolgirl. She lunged forward and stopped the door with her hand. Rachel took a half step out of the elevator, holding the door still, peering around the corner. "Dave?" she rasped, "Come on Dave."
She stepped back into the elevator, apparently noticing me for the first time.
"Do you think he went downstairs to find us?" she asked, sounding worried.
I shrugged my shoulders and looked at the floor, her stockinged foot dangling in the air, swinging in and out of my field of vision. Even though I was only seeing her below the ankle, I could see her stiffen, and as I looked up, I could see her knuckles gripping the handrail tightly. She was staring out across the center court, and my gaze followed hers. She was looking at Dave, dangling her shoe over the handrail on the other side of the court. As the elevator went down, he waved with an evil grin, turned, and headed off in the direction of Lord and Taylor.Rachel hesitated for a long time when the elevator reached the ground floor, until finally, she stepped off, her remaining shoe clicking loudly on the floor. She walked over to the fountain area and took a seat at a couch built into the planter as I followed three steps behind.
She alternated staring at her sock, then searching around the atrium for any sign of Dave, then looking at her sock again.
"Can you go see if you can find him?" she asked.
I went back up to where I saw him last, pausing to look over the railing at Rachel. She was sitting there with both stockinged feet on display, holding her remaining shoe on her lap. It wasn't hard to find Dave. He was leaning against the railing by Lord and Taylor's, sucking down an Orange Julius.
"She is totally distraught," I told him. (an odd phrase that was popular in Junior High)
"Are you gonna give her shoe back?"
"I don't have it," he said slyly. "Tell her to come up here if she wants it back."
I don't know how I failed to notice that he was empty handed before. "What did you do with her shoe," I asked, trying to seem unconcerned, but feeling that my jeans could have been a size bigger just then.
"Tell her to come up here, and you'll see!" Dave chortled, laughing and choking on Orange Julius.
"He says to come up stairs," I told her, returning to where I had left her.
"I can't just go walking through the mall in my socks!" she blurted out, "It's like one giant store, you have to have a shirt and shoes!"
"Say you lost it," I offered, trying to be helpful.
"Can't you try to get it back?" she asked, sounding for the first time like she might cry.
"I tried to get it," I lied, "told him we were going to get in big trouble."
"What did he say," she asked, sounding hopeful.
"He said if you want your shoe, go up there."
She stood up, her gorgeous stockinged feet brilliant white against the burnt orange carpet. She looked around nervously.
"It's not that far," I said.
There was a security guard by the elevator now, so we walked all the way to the other side and got onto the escalator. Her stockinged foot tapped nervously on the ribbed steps as we inched higher. The escalator to the third floor required another walk across a wide expanse. For some reason, the fact that she was walking along in her socks, holding her shoe in her hand, and wearing her winter coat, was so appealing.
We finally got to where Dave had been but he was gone. There were no seats there, so we just stood there silently, Rachel shifting back and forth in her stockinged feet on the polished terrazzo. Still no sign of Dave, but Rachel set her other shoe on the floor and stepped into it again, as if to start the ball rolling. I watched in fascination as her stockinged foot hovered above the floor, never touching it, even though she had just padded ten football fields or more.
"Hey guys," Dave said happily as he approached, empty handed again.
"What did you do with my shoe you little fucker?" she hissed.
I remember it well because at that age, I had rarely heard a girl talk that way, and had never seen a girl so mad.
"Why do you have to be that way?" he asked, goading her.
"Give me my God Damn shoe!" she shot back. "Where is it?"
"Locker #31," he said, holding out a key with an orange plastic drum marked "31".
She reached out to grab it but he pulled his hand back, letting the key tumble over the rail. We all watched as it disappeared into the fountain below.
"You are sooooo busted," she screamed fighting back tears, "I'm telling my mom right now, and you'll be buying me new shoes out of your allowance!"
"Narc," he said, as she stalked off, her blue and white stockinged foot slipping across the floor. Fifty feet away, she hopped on one foot, ripped her remaining shoe off, and threw it into a trashcan.
"That was unreal," I said, "and if you have to pay for new shoes, I'll split it with you.
"No prob," he said, laughing, "I'm only down fifty cents." He produced another locker key. "You get the one from the trash though."
I had to lean over and reach deep to retrieve the shoe. It was exciting to have her shoe in my hand, knowing that she was out padding through the mall at that very moment. It had picked up a small spot of yellow mustard from a half pretzel, but was no worse for the wear. I handed it off to Dave, and he wrapped both shoes in his coat, carrying it in front of him as we walked. When we got back to the spot we were supposed to meet his Aunt, Rachel was standing there in her stockinged feet gesturing wildly to her mother, who was smoldering mad.
She launched into him as we approached.
"Aunt Phyllis, I didn't mean it, it was just a prank that went too far."
His Aunt was furious and would have none of it. "David, I am so disappointed in you..."
"You're buying me new shoes, jerk," Rachel interrupted. "Let's go!" she said, pointing to the Wild Pair store.
"There's no time today, honey, your father will be home any minute and I have to start dinner."
Rachel looked stricken. "Mom it will only take a minute, I know the ones I want!"
"Another time dear," she said. "We'll deal with you two later," she said, staring at us briefly. She turned and headed away from us, pulling his younger cousin by the arm. "Wait here while I get the car!" she ordered.
"Sorry Rachel," Dave said, and started to unwrap is coat.
"Kiss my butt you little dork." she snapped, and stalked off toward the doors.
It was cold outside and there was snow on the ground, but the sidewalks were clear and mostly dry. When the car pulled up, Rachel raced out, covering the forty or so yards in her socks in a few seconds.
"Shit." was all we heard as we approached behind her. Dave pushed me forward, making me sit between them.
"What did you say young lady?" Aunt Phyllis turned around to glare at her.
"I stepped in a puddle," Rachel said, sliding across the seat and staring out of the window sulking now.
It was getting dark already, but I could see her foot clearly on the floor next to mine. Her left sock was soaked, and slightly gray on the lower half. The water made to sock almost completely sheer and I could see her toes perfectly. We rode home silently for the most part, and I stared at her feet the whole time as she looked out the window. At some point, she asked her mother to turn up the heat, then reached down and stripped off her wet sock, riding the rest of the way home with one sock and one bare foot.
They dropped me off at my house first. Dave told me later that he gave Rachel her shoes when they got home so she wouldn't have to walk barefoot in the snow.
He got grounded for two weeks.
I only got one.
Snowman
