CHAPTER 3



BEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEP...

Oh My Gosh! That has got to be the most irritating noise in the history of irritating noises. I hate being jolted into an upright position because of that loud, obnoxious, squawk! I could swear it pierces a hole through my brain.
But today is going to be a good day, one that I have been looking forward to, for the last 2½ months. It’s Monday, August 16th. Exactly one week until my sophomore year in high school begins.
In Flagstaff, freshman year is still combined with Jr. High. So this will actually be my first year at high School.
My parents have finally given in to the fact that I am not a “little girl” anymore and rightly so. I spent the entire summer babysitting so I could buy clothes myself instead of the usual, mom getting me generic jeans that are tight around my back side and too loose around the waist. I mean seriously, don’t these jean companies know anything about girls shapes. Some of us have hips, and a waist, both at the same time.
My mom’s solution is to sew “darts” in the back so they will fit correctly.
If you don’t know what that is; it is when you pinch the fabric together, making a gather, and sewing it to stay.
It made me have a lump on each side of my lower back, and my back pockets stick out just enough to make them look a little off.
I was completely mortified to be seen in them.
My mom was really good at making do, and tries to be as frugal as she possibly can.She takes great pride in the care of our clothes so that they can be handed down to the next child. One problem with that is that my older sister loves animals. I always have at least one t-shirt with sparkly kittens stamped on the front. Why kittens? I will never understand! I’m severely allergic to cats. I have to keep an antihistamine with me at all times, just incase. Plus, the fact that all of the hand-me-down tops, are either too baggy, (remember my “big boned” older sister) or they do fit but they are just short enough that I am fussing with it all day, trying to keep from having exposed skin. I would die of embarrassment if I were ever “coded” at school for showing a bare midrift in a kitten t-shirt!
Ugh!
No more of that for me, thank you.
Over the summer I began watching, and getting tips from one of those shows where they ambush some un-expecting person from the street, and do a complete makeover on
them. They then show them how to shop for clothes that will be the most flattering for their shape and size.
I never realized I had a shape, or size. My mom incessantly buys my clothes bigger than what I actually am. She says it gives me “room to grow.” Well I don’t plan on growing much more seeing how I have been the same height and weight for the past two years.
My plan started with a budget. I decided I would need $500 by the end of the summer and I had to strategize carefully.
First, I wanted to get at least 5 pairs of jeans that fit perfectly and don’t make my butt look too big. After that, I would see what I have left for shirts. I wasn’t too worried about shoes because my sisters and I wore the same size, so that made it easy to find a pair that would coordinate. Not that it mattered much, most of the time I just wore flip-flops.
My goal date had arrived. I had earned my money. Today was the day that I would put my newly learned fashion rules to action. Today I would get everything I needed,
then have a week to perfect my makeup-ing skills before school started.
My plan involved the entire day. I would go to the mall, shop until I found everything I set out to attain, and attempt to perform a mini makeover on myself.
I had previously shared my intentions with my mom and she thought it sounded like a good idea, plus the bonus that I would be learning to plan ahead and show my dad I could handle responsibility. I hadn’t thought about it, but this will also earn me some brownie points for when the time comes that I should be getting my drivers license.
I got dressed as fast as I could, and with the $500 in hand, ran into the kitchen to quickly grab something to eat.
As soon as my mom caught wind of my excitement, she rolled her eyes and said,
“Oh ya, today’s the big day, huh?”
“No” I defended, holding the O longer than necessary. “I’m just going school shopping, no big deal”.
“But it’s the first time without me.” She faked a pouty face.
“I’m sure you’ll live.” Heavy sarcasm.
“Ya, especially when I look in my wallet and, Oh my goodness, I still have money!” She grinned, hamming it up quite a bit.
“Ya ya whatever, Mother. Now can you pleeeeeeeese give me a ride to the mall?” I begged shamelessly, my hands clasped in front of my chest in full begging position, while batting my eyes and sticking my bottom lip out as if I would start pouting if she said no.
“Oh good grief!” She grumbled, rolling her eyes. She then grabbed her purse.
I smiled a sheepish grin back at her.
“Ok, drama queen, lets go.” She exclaimed, turning on her heels and heading for the door.
I followed quickly behind as she trudged to the drivers side of the suburban.
“Ugh!” I stopped, “do we have to go in that?”
“Um, Yaaa” emphasis on the aaa. “Unless you would rather I drive your brothers,
Monte Carlo?”
“No Thanks!” I exclaimed.
His car was a tank! It was really old and ugly.
“This will be fine I guess.” I resigned, as I begrudgingly climbed into the front seat.
“Well I’m so glad you think so” she said sarcastically.
We drove in silence for the most part, chatting here and there about nothing in
particular.
When we arrived at the front entrance to the mall, I was anxious to get out. Mom grabbed my arm just as I was about to exit the car, “here’s another $100, just in case.”
I reached in to take it when she jerked it back just barely out of my grasp.
“Now don’t spend all your money unless you have too” she stated protectively.
“O….” She stopped me mid word.
“And don’t buy anything that is so expensive, that you can’t get much else”
“I kn….” Cut off again.
“And don’t settle for things that are only ok so that you can get more, because if you do that, you won’t wear it and you’ll be mad you wasted your money.”
I waited a few seconds to see if there were any more important motherly instructions.
She handed me the money and I started to turn.
“And honey!”
“Yes, Mother?” I breathed out heavily as I turned slowly back around.
“Have fun.” She smiled as if she knew I was getting annoyed with her undecidedness and was amused by the thought.
I was almost to the door when she yelled through the open passenger window, “Call me when you’re done.”
“Ok, see you later” I hollered back, as I waved without turning to look again.
Normally, I hate going to the mall, probably because I already knew what was coming home with me. But this time, I was excited to be here.
First things first. Jeans.
I spotted the name of a trendy store- that I had heard girls, last year at school, talk about as if it was a religious experience- and made my way inside.
The loud music and heavy fragrance was very different than the stores where my mom usually took us to shop. It made me feel slightly intimidated to go in, but my
determination to find the supreme pair of jeans, pushed me forward.
I stepped in through the doorway and immediately pretended to be looking down at a table full of neatly folded and displayed, t-shirts, hoping not to be noticed right away. I let my hair fall forward slightly, hoping that it would add to my invisibility.
A tall slender girl with perfectly groomed honey blond locks, and way too much eye, and lip liner, immediately approached me blurting out,
“How’s it goin’, can I help you find something?”
I jumped. “Um, ya… I need to find some jeans.”
“No problem, come right this way”
She seemed nice enough, and genuinely wanted to help me, so I followed her closely in the direction that she led.
She proceeded to show me all of the different styles and cuts of the jeans that they offered.
“What size do you wear?” She then asked, politely.
“Uh…I’m not sure” I said in a rather sheepish tone. After all, my mom always bought my jeans and then tailored them to do what she calls “fit”.
“Ha ha, that’s ok”. She took a step back, looked me up and down like she was trying to figure out a jigsaw puzzle.
“Hmmm….” She said as she turned to look at the stacks of neatly folded jeans. I was sure it wouldn’t be easy to find a pair of jeans that fit these massive hips.
“I would say you are either a size 3 or 5”. She guessed.
That’s impossible! I know I’m not that size. My mom never got me any size that you could count to on one hand! She fumbled through the piles and continued selecting pair after pair.
Maybe there is hope, I thought as I watched her work. She seemed very confident with her assessment, and I was not about to argue.
She had heaped about seven pairs of jeans into a mound on the display table in front of her, and then I was whisked off to a fitting room to try on each pair.
The first four pairs didn’t work so well, and I was beginning to get discouraged, but the fifth pair, Yowza! They looked Hot!
I couldn’t get over how good they felt. Soft and pliable, like they were made for me.
Then I turned around to see the back, “Whoa… oh yes” I’ll take one of these in every color I thought to myself.
I managed to get out of that store with 5 pairs of jeans and 3 shirts, and still had over $200. I was on a shopping high. I then made my way to the other end of the mall to a well known department store to see if I could find a couple more shirts and maybe some makeup.
If I was going to do this, I wanted to do it all the way.
I remember on the show, they said that you want to choose an eye shadow that brings out your eye color in a way that looks natural, not harsh.
The lady behind the counter tried several colors, then a few together as well.
I really liked a shade called Bordeaux. It was sort of burgundy, but it looked more like brown on my pale skin. It made the green in my eyes, POP.
Then she showed me how to apply it in a way that contoured my eyelids nicely. It made me look older, so of course, I LOVED IT.
I was so happy and excited, that I had no problem finding some cute tops to go with my “new look”, and another little bonus, a new bra! Who knew that finding the right one of those could even make my kitten t-shirt, look good!
I was starting to wind down, content with my adventure for the day, and just finishing up at the register when I felt it…
At first it was like Goosebumps when you feel a little chill. But I wasn’t cold. In fact it was quite warm in the store, as apparent by the dew droplets on the forehead of the sales clerk in front of me. But something had caught my attention. There was a presence that almost seemed to completely change the surrounding atmosphere.
The sales clerk went about her business, ringing up all of my spoils, then folding and making a lot of crinkling noise while trying to shove the pile into a large plastic bag.
She, apparently immune to my new found tension in the air, smiled as she handed me the bag and said, “Thank you. Come again”.
I turned and started to walk away with my rewards, when the feeling started to
strengthen.
Now there was a cold tingling sensation slowly crawling up my spine. My bags were getting quite heavy and starting to slide down my arm, so I stopped to regroup.
I looked around, while trying to reposition the bags so that they didn’t cut off the blood supply to my hands, but everything appeared to be normal. I took a deep breath and shivered, unsuccessfully trying to shake the feeling, and continued walking.
“What is wrong with me?” I thought with some chagrin. I tried unconvincingly to talk myself out of the twinge of fear that was quickly settling over me, when I heard a very faint, but distantly familiar voice.
“Call your mom” It whispered.
I jerked my head toward where I thought the voice was coming from, but saw no one.
It had to be my imagination. Or possibly just a voice that, by chance, carried farther than normal during a lul in all of the surrounding voices. I couldn’t be sure, but the words were clear and I had no reason or intention to question the motives behind it right now. I didn’t care; all I could think is that it seemed to be a more than reasonable request, whether it was intended for me or not.
I fumbled through my purse trying to find my cell phone, as I began to pick up the pace toward the mall entrance.
It did give me a small measure of comfort to be out of the store, and away from where the source of the feeling of my skin crawling up my back, had occured. But I was not completely convinced that it had gone.
I one handedly, flipped my phone open, and hit the ‘favorites’ button, and then ‘home’.
Gotta love modern technology.
My mom answered on the third ring.
“Mom? I’m done, can you come get me?”
“Ya, I’ll be there in a few. Did you get some good stuff?” She asked, inquisitive.
“Ya, I think so, I’ll show you when we get home. And mom?...”
“Yes”
“Can you please hurry?” I asked.
“Sure sweetheart is everything ok?” with genuine concern in her tone.
“Ya… I just really want to get home”
“Ok… I’m backing out of the driveway right now. I’ll meet you by the entrance where you went in, so watch for me”
“Ok”
I slapped my phone shut and put it in my front pocket this time, making it a little easier to find.
“If she’s leaving right now,” I appraised, “that means she won’t be here for at least 15 minutes, and it will take me five to get to the entrance where she dropped me off.” (Sigh) Ugh!
I only have one more month until I get my drivers license, and I can’t wait! Then I won’t always have to depend on other people for a ride.
I continued walking in the direction of the center of the mall.
I wasn’t feeling goose bumps or chills anymore so I inadvertently began to slow my pace.
I spotted a bench by the huge fireplace in the center courtyard area, where I would have a clear view of the entrance to where my mom would be picking me up.
Being pretty worn out from my overlong day at the mall, that seat looked more than inviting.
I trudged over to my chosen resting place, peeled the heavy bags off my now sore arms, and let them fall to the floor as I plunked down onto the seat.
It felt so good to be sitting. I didn’t realize how much my back and neck ached until I sat down. I had been standing since I got to the mall this morning and I was so uncharacteristically happy to be shopping for myself; that I didn’t want to stop and rest.
I leaned my head on the back of the bench and closed my eyes just for a moment when…
Burrr…
Wait a minute… I opened my eyes and lifted my head.
Goosebumps again!
Why am I feeling like this? Now it was starting to make me a little angry. There has to be some reason for it… but where is it coming from?
With as much stealth as I could muster, I began scanning the area, stopping on everyone, and everything around me.
There’s a woman pushing a baby in a stroller while another child is clinging to her leg and screaming about a toy he obviously wanted, but didn’t get.
An elderly couple is sitting on the bench across from me. The man has an oxygen tank on wheels, and the woman is sitting beside him holding his hand.
A man in a business suit is maneuvering his way briskly through the foot traffic as if he is in a hurry to get somewhere more important.
Three pre-teen aged, giggling, girls are standing outside a gift store, gawking at posters of young bare chest-ed male movie stars.
A young couple is walking toward the jewelry store, the young man with his chest puffed up looking very proud, as the young woman tries to contain her excitement.
I really had no idea what I was looking for until…He caught my eye.
He was standing in front of the Knife shop and he looked like no more than an average sized man, middle 20’s to early 30’s-ish, with dark brown unkempt shoulder-length hair, and a five o’clock shadow that had skipped more than a few “five o'clock’s”.
He was wearing extremely worn looking faded jeans with holes in the knees, a long sleeved black button down shirt, and boots like the steel toed kind that construction workers usually wear.
The second I saw him, our eyes locked, and a frigid bolt shot up my back, locking me into my petrified position. He quickly looked away trying not to be obvious, while he ducked into the store.
I wasted no time collecting all my stuff and moving to a bench where, hopefully, he wouldn’t be able to see me. I could barely make out the entrance of the store through the grated fireplace guard, and trees that stood in the way, but that was good enough for me.
I sat there very still and tried to stop my bags from rustling so I could keep my focus glued to the entrance of the Knife shop.
He came back out within seconds, and then paused for a moment staring straight
ahead. He then casually hung his thumbs in his front jeans pockets and with a smug little grin he began to saunter very slowly up the walkway passing the obstacles between us as if he knew I was watching his every move.
I could feel the blood rushing into my face, as I sat there frozen.
Is he just toying with me? Is this some sick game of cat and mouse?
Whatever the case may be, he seemed to be very content with his slow lurking pace.
The only thing I could hear was the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears, because when he gets past the fireplace, I will be in clear view again.
I wanted to run, but I stayed still, not wanting to draw any attention.
What if I’m wrong? I thought, What if he doesn’t know I exist, and in my paranoid state I conjured up the whole thing?
I kept watching intently, keeping myself ready to bolt if the situation called for it.
With every step he took I could feel my heart thumping harder. There was a huge ball welling up in the top of my throat, and I was trembling as I whispered out loud, “Oh please don’t look over here”.
Step…. Step…. Step…
All of a sudden I felt my phone vibrate, and it startled me. I ripped it from my pocket with lightening speed.
“Hello!” I blurted just above a whisper.
“I thought you were going to watch for me.” My mom said disappointedly.
Oh thank goodness she’s here, I thought as I breathed out.
I hadn’t noticed that I had been holding my breath until just then.
I jumped up. “I did…uh, I was… I mean… sorry mom I’m coming out right now” I
answered, with my bags already in hand walking as fast as I possibly could toward the doors.
“Ok” she replied.
I pushed through the first set of doors and before they were fully opened, I was
already out the second. I opened the car door, got in, closed and locked the door

behind me in one fluid movement. To which my mom gave me a puzzled look and said
“What was that all about?”
“Uh…Nothing… can we just go?” I answered in an urgent tone.
“O…k…?” she resigned.
The engine revved slightly and we started to move forward. Way too slowly for me, even though I knew I was safe being back in the suburban, and being able to escape. It didn’t matter, I was anxious to see some distance between me and the mall.
We turned and drove up the isle heading in the direction of the main road. With every inch farther we moved forward, the tension released a little more from my muscles.
As we rounded the curb to the stoplight, curiosity got the best of me and I looked back over my shoulder toward the mall entrance. There, I saw the silhouette of a man walking casually in the direction of an older looking truck, waiting in the “Drop off zone”, just outside the doors I had just touched. I felt a chill again and let out an audible ‘gasp.’
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Mom asked with sincere regard, as she put her hand gently on my shoulder the way she does when she can tell there is a problem.
“Ya…. Fine.” I assured.
On the way home, I told her all about my new jeans and tops, and my new makeup. I was a little hesitant to tell her about anything else; for fear that she would never let me go again.
When we got home, mom went into the kitchen and helped my sister finish making
dinner, chicken enchiladas; I could smell them before I got to the door. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. I was so caught up with shopping that I also forgot to eat while I was there.
But first things first. I was dying to try my new stuff all together and see how everything looked. Clothes, bra, and makeup. I wanted everyone to see the finished product at dinner.
I gathered up all of what little makeup I had been previously allowed to have. Along with the new cosmetics and clothes that I had just brought home, and dashed into my closet.
We had 3 bathrooms. One was attached to my parents’ room, and another was at the
front end of the house just off the kitchen, which was the “boys” bathroom.
The one in the middle of the hall was the one that was dominated by us “girls”. But it

never failed, as soon as I would get settled in there to do something that might take more than 15 minutes, invariably someone would knock on the door needing to come in.
Thank heavens my mom had the insight to design our room with a walk-in closet. We definitely needed the closet space but it also served as a dressing/vanity room. She made it so that the light was on the wall just above a full length mirror and it was perfect for sitting on the floor and doing my “primping”, as my dad would say.
I really hate that word.
I spread out all of the cosmetics and tried to arrange them in an order as to what I should use first.
I began trying to do exactly what the lady at the makeup counter said to do, first; foundation, that seemed easy enough. Then; loose powder all over. Then blush applied to the apple of the cheek and sweeping back, just under the cheekbone, then a little on eyelids, forehead and tip of the nose.
The next part was what made me nervous, eyeliner and eye shadow.
Up until this year I was only allowed to wear blush, mascara, and lip-gloss. It seemed very simple the way the lady at the counter described it but when I was sitting there holding a semi-sharp object in my hand, about to point it in the direction of my eye, it was a whole different story.
I chickened out.
I decided I would have to lower myself to asking my mom to help after dinner. She actually went to cosmetology school back in the day and was pretty attractive as far as moms go. I hated the idea of my makeup looking like my moms, but I thought maybe I could modify it if necessary.
After dinner I helped my mom clean up the dishes hoping not to be too obvious. She, of course, picked up on my anxiety and asked, “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Ha ha, that’s hilarious” I said sarcastically. “I have been known to help on more than one occasion”.
“Yes, I know but it’s usually because you have an ulterior motive”.
Dang. Either I’m extremely predictable or she has been reading my mind for a long time and I just didn’t know it.
“I know you pretty well.” She admitted. “So what do you need help with?”
Yep, she has been reading my mind.
“Well I was experimenting with my make-up, but I sort of got stuck at the eye make-up part, and since you have some experience in the department…” I didn’t even finish my thought when she said, with a hint of excitement in her voice, “Oooohhh…”
She threw the dishtowel in the sink, and then asked my dad to make sure the 5
youngest kids were bathed and ready for bed.
We opened the door to the closet and sat facing eachother on the floor.
Mom immediately went to work, describing every detail as she applied.
“You only need a thin line on the top and bottom lid” she said using her professional voice. “And don’t line all the way around your eye, it will make your eyes appear smaller, and squinty. You want your eyes to look open and inviting, not like some 5 year old little girl, who was turned loose with a black magic marker.”
She then picked up the eye shadow I had just purchased, and carefully traced the lines she drew under and over my eyelids, making them look softer. "This will actually help the liner not fade off as quickly, and it smudges it a little so there is not such a harsh line. Subtlety is the goal. You want to enhance what you already have, not disguise it”
She was still working intently and prattling on about “technique” and how “no two people are the same, so don’t try to compare”, when I found myself lost in my thoughts about my little scare at the mall.
I had all but dissected, the entire incident, pausing on details that I could chalk up to my imagination, or just coincidence. Especially, the fact that there was obviously someone waiting for him too.
I had resigned myself to the idea that nothing had happened and it was just my imagination. There was no justifiable reason for alarm.
“Andrea!” Mom hollered. I hadn’t realized that she stopped talking until she interrupted my
absorption.
“Hmm?” I blurted out, startled.
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Um… about the eyeliner?”
“No, about how you should always put mascara on last…so your newly mascara-d
lashes, don’t get covered with eye shadow…?” She said as if trying to jog my memory.
“Oh… um…ya”. She wasn’t buying it. And I didn’t blame her.
She, sensing the change in my demeanor, carefully set the cosmetics back, one by one, onto the floor. She then folded her hands in her lap, quietly scrutinizing my expression.
“So, do you want to tell me what happened at the mall?” She asked, as if she already knew there was something bad.
I started to shake my head and shift into nonchalant mode, but then decided to just come clean.
“Ok fine…Well…” I whined hesitantly. She just sat there looking at me as if intent on getting the story, one way or another.
“I’m just not sure there was anything that happened”. I said still trying to justify my earlier thoughts.
“Just tell me, and then I can tell you what I think”. She picked up the eye shadow again and started working as I began.
I told her about how everything was fine up until the end of the day, then I described the feeling and the voice.
“Wait!” She stopped me short, “You heard a voice?” Her body froze and she sounded insistent.
“I don’t know, it sounded like my voice, but more like it was me talking to myself, instead of me just having a thought”.
She continued to listen, hanging on every word.
“That’s why I say I don’t know what it was, or if there was anything other than just my imagination.”
I fully expected to hear her say that I was never allowed anywhere alone again, and get a full blown lecture on the dangers of the world, but instead she surprised me. Her face was very serious as she looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Andi, anytime you feel that sensation…” She hesitated as if searching for the right words, and then changed her approach.
“Never second guess yourself… just do exactly as the voice says… It won’t lead you astray.”
“But what if I am wrong and it was nothing?”
“Then it doesn't matter! Just trust me on this. Get out of the situation as fast as you can, you can explain yourself later if needs be, but there is a reason for what you felt, and heard”.
“Ok” I said still staring at her, and feeling a little frightened and confused at her sudden mood change.
“Just promise me that when ever you hear that prompting, or ‘voice’… that you will do exactly what it says”.
“Ok, I will”