It’s a sign of age when the things you learned to love and expect are no longer there.  For example, I spent a lot of time during my high school days at the Charleston Town Center Mall… and I mean a lot of time.

            It quickly became a tradition to spend the night at my best friend Eugene’s house every Friday night, sometimes as many as six or seven of us, sleeping on the floor or  (when the weather cooperated) outside on the porch.  We would stay up late, talking, watching television, playing video games until someone finally wizened up and said, “Guys, we need to get some sleep.”

            Although I was usually one of the last to fall asleep, I was always the first one up, sometimes before sunrise.  I would quietly get showered, dressed, hair fixed, teeth brushed.  Then I would carefully, cautiously wake up every guy in the group by flipping on lights or shaking them with my foot.

            “Get up, guys, come on, let’s go, we’ve gotta catch the bus.”  Of course, they would all groan.  At times, it would be like waltzing through a lion’s den, pulling each lion by the ear.  But I always persisted and the guys would get up, one by one.  There was always a special order to things.  Since
Eugene was our host, he was first of the late risers to the shower.  Will would call “shotgun” on the shower next.  Then, as the door opened, steam pouring out and filling the hallway, John would kick Will in the shin, sending him to the floor, and proudly carry his clothes to the bathroom.  Jamie would apologize for his brother’s harassment and promise Will that he could have the shower next.  As John swung the door open, spilling out yet another blast of steam, Jamie would sneak behind Will’s back and into the bathroom.

            This went on until Will was last and all hot water had been exhausted.  He always handled it like a trooper, only whining a little after his shower.  We laughed as he shivered and assured him that next time he had dibs on the shower, after
Eugene, of course.

            We rarely took more money than was necessary to catch the bus.  Why should we?  We weren’t going to the mall to shop.  We were going to spend the most valuable days of our live with each other.  Oh, yeah, and to meet girls.  Many of our relationships started and ended in the hallways of the mall, out in the parking garage, and sometimes on the bus trips to and from.

            It may sound odd, but one of my favorite things to do once we arrived was to ride the elevator from the third-floor picnic area to the first floor.  There was a small pool of water beneath the elevators with small fountains sprouting up all around.  I used to imagine that the elevator would keep going down, below the water, and there would be this new secret world under the surface of the mall.

            And now, ten years later, I am sitting on a carpeted floor that used to be the water fountains, watching nearby Starbuck’s customers as they sip their coffees slowly, wishing time would stop and keep them there just a little longer.

           Much has changed.  The escalator is still there, the same up-escalator that I tried to walk down and nearly broke my ankle.  The same escalator where I learned that if you kick it in just the right place hard enough, it will stop running.  But now sadly, the fountain is gone.  Just carpet and tables for coffee drinkers.  The childish part of me thinks the carpet was put there to hide the underground kingdom once and for all.  Will got married and no longer speaks to any of us.  Jamie joined the Army National Guard and is somewhere in Iraq.  John still lives with his father and makes a little bit of money repairing firearms in his basement.  Eugene moved to Sheffield, Ohio where he enjoys a daily view of Erie Lake and works in one of the tallest buildings in Cleveland.

           And I am still the old me, father of two and happily married, wondering if there is another world beneath my feet, wishing I could try the escalator thing again.  The same old stories are calling to me:  Spencer’s, Hot Topic, F.Y.E.  And like before, I’m not here to shop.  I’m here just to enjoy.