"That was better," the woman in charge said when we had crossed the lobby. "One more time, just in case."
Iris went to talk to Walker again, but he was gone now. His wheelchair was still there, but it was empty except for the camera on the seat. "Walker?" she called, looking around. "Where are you?"
"You mean he can actually walk?" I asked.
"Of course he can walk," she said, pausing to look at me. "What did you think?"
"So the wheelchair is just for show?" I asked.
"Walker!" she cried, turning in a circle.
The woman in charge came over. "What's the problem?" she asked.
"Our son is missing," I told her.
"We have to find him," Iris said. "I don't know where I'd be without him."
"We'll organize a search party," I said to the woman in charge. "We'll divide up into teams and mark things off on grids and stuff."
"You go ahead," she said. "We're going to set up for the shot again. Try to find him before we're ready."
Iris and I went into the room with all the refrigerators and micro-waves. "Walker!" she cried again. She opened a freezer and looked inside, like he was hiding in there.
"Maybe he was mad at us," I said, "on account of the shoot and all."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, looking at me.
"I saw this show once," I said, "where these kids were upset because their parents had started dating after the divorce or death or whatever it was that had taken place. Maybe Walker's upset because of this couple thing we're doing here."
"Maybe we should split up to look for him," Iris said. "I'll take that room with all the computers."
"Where do you want me to look?" I asked.
"Anywhere but there," she said.
"All right," I said to myself after she was gone, looking around the empty room. "Where would I go if I were lost?"
I found Walker in the room with all the dead televisions. I heard him before I saw him. He was making this mewling noise. I followed it around the maze of televisions. I ran into several dead ends and had to backtrack before I finally found him. He was sitting on the floor in front of a big-screen television with a broken screen. He was crying, but he didn't stop when he saw me.
"There you are," I said. "We've been worried sick about you." I put out my arms, but he just looked at the broken television and kept on crying. I picked him up and carried him back to the lobby.
They were set up for the shot again by the time I made it back there, but now everyone was on a coffee break.
"It's about time," the woman in charge said as I put Walker back in his chair. "I was beginning to worry."
"So was I," I said.
"Another hour and we have to pay the crew overtime," she said.
We waited for Iris to come back, but she didn't. "Maybe she's lost too," I said. "Maybe I'll have to rescue her as well."
The woman in charge looked at her watch. "Maybe we should just go with what we've got."
Walker wouldn't stop crying, so I patted him on the head. "You're okay," I said. "There's nothing wrong with you." But still he kept on.
I took the camera from him and rewound it until I found a shot of Iris and me walking across the lobby together. I paused it and held the camera out to Walker. "Look," I said, "there's your mom."
He stopped crying and took the camera. He put it in his lap and stared down at the image.
"You see?" I said. "Everything's all right."
AND ONCE THE AGENCY got Iris and me work as mannequins at the downtown mall. One of the department stores was having a promotion and wanted live people modeling clothes in a display window. We changed into their clothes, and the man in charge, Tiff, walked us to the display. "I have to lock the door when you're inside," he said, "on account of store regulations and all, but I'll let you out every hour for a washroom break."
"What do you want us to do?" I asked once we were inside the display case.
"Just act natural," Tiff said.
"This isn't exactly a natural setting," I told him.
"What I mean is that I don't want you to act like mannequins," he said. "I want you to act like people."
"I can do that," I said.
"I hope so," he said, "because that's why we hired you."
"I've been acting like a person all my life."
The display window was where the store met the rest of the mall. The inside of it was set up like a living room and kitchen. There was a couch, a television, chairs, lamps, a stove and refrigerator, the whole works. It was all from the store. It was the kind of place I dreamed about living in.
Iris and I sat on the couch and watched a DVD on the television. It was one of those expensive DVD players, the kind that held six discs, so we could have sat there and watched movies for the entire shift, but after a half hour or so, Tiff opened the door to the case and told us we had to be more dynamic.
"I don't know what you mean," I said.
"Move around," he said. "Use all the products."
I got up and went over to the fridge. It was plugged in and full of bottles of water. I opened one and drank from it. Outside, in the mall, people stopped to look at us. I waved at them. Tiff pounded on the glass wall of the display and shook his head.
Iris went over to the exercise bike in the corner and started cycling. She was still watching the movie. I took a water bottle over to her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, looking at it.
"I'm bringing you water," I said.
"Why?" she asked, looking at me now.
"I'm trying to pretend like we're a couple," I said. "On account of the display and all." I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
She shook her head but took the water. "I need to find another job," she said.
"This is the best job I've ever had," I said.
IRIS AND I WORKED as mannequins for a couple of weeks. When we were on break, I liked to stand out in the hallway, looking in at the display case. Sometimes I even polished the window with paper towel and glass cleaner I got from one of the women who worked the perfume counters.
After a few days, Iris started bringing Walker to work. She parked his wheelchair in front of the display case, where he could watch us. He filmed us all day long with his digital camera.
On one of our breaks, I tried talking to him. Iris was off in the washroom or buying food or something, so it was just the two of us.
"How's it going, son?" I asked him.
He turned the camera on me but didn't say anything. The one eye I could see was closed so he could look through the camera's viewfinder.
"Maybe someday we can take you in there with us," I said, indicating the display. "Would you like that?"
He still didn't say anything, just kept on filming.
"All right then," I said and looked back at the case. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him turn the camera back on it too.
When Iris came back, she asked us what we had been doing.
"We were bonding," I said, and Walker laughed.
THE MANNEQUIN JOB ENDED for us when I lit the display case on fire. I'd brought in some soup and I was heating it in a pot on the stove when I smelled something burning. I lifted the pot and looked underneath but there was nothing on the element.
"Now what have you done?" Iris asked, coming over from where she'd been doing jumping jacks in the middle of the living room.
"I haven't done anything," I said. But when I turned off the stove, the smell grew even stronger. Then Walker rolled his wheelchair over until he was directly on the other side of the glass from us, and he pointed behind the stove. I looked back there. The curtains that were framing the fake window over the stove hung down where all the electrical outlets for the display were, and the bottom part of them was on fire.
"How did you manage that?" Iris asked.
"I didn't do it," I said. "It must be some sort of wiring thing."
"Well, we should put it out," Iris said.
I threw the soup on the curtains, but it only put out some of the fire. The case was beginning to grow hazy with smoke now, and the people who had been watching Iris do jumping jacks started to back away.
"Now what?" I said.
"Now I think we should leave," Iris said.
But when we went to the door, it was locked. "Tiff!" I shouted, banging on the door, but he was nowhere in sight. The only people from the store I could see were the women from the perfume counter, and they just stayed by their counter and stared at us. I ran to the phone on our end table, picked it up, and dialed 911 before I realized there was no dial tone.
Iris was at the other end of the display case, shouting to Walker through the glass. "Don't let anyone take the camera away from you if we die," she said. "You'll need that film for the lawsuit." He nodded and kept filming.
Now the curtains were totally on fire, and the flames had spread to other things. The fake window frame was burning, as was the edge of the carpet. And there was a thick layer of smoke at the top of the case.
"Why isn't there a fire extinguisher in here?" I asked. "Every home should have a fire extinguisher."
Iris ran to my side. "Have you got any ideas how to get us out of this mess?" she said.
"We should lie down," I said. "In the movies, people always lie down to get away from the smoke."
"We don't need to get away from the smoke," she said, "we need to get away from here. We need to break the glass."
"I don't know," I said, looking at the large windows. The display case was completely ringed by people watching us now. "What if they charge us for that?"
"Oh my God," Iris said and ran to one of the walls. "Help!" she screamed, pounding on the wall and waving at the crowd. "Someone help me!"
I saw then that it was up to me. I went over to the television and picked it up. It was a big-screen model, and I could barely lift it. I staggered over to the wall that Iris was pounding on and threw it at the glass.
The wall shattered as the television went through it, and large pieces of glass fell out into the mall. Some people in the crowd screamed and ran away, but others applauded. Iris pushed past me and jumped to the floor, then ran to Walker. I followed her but only made it about halfway before I collapsed to the floor. Now that I was in the fresh air of the mall, I could barely breathe - all I could do was cough.
I looked back at the display case in time to see Tiff rush into it with a fire extinguisher. Everything was burning now - the rug, the couch, even the fake flowers on the kitchen table. Tiff sprayed wildly with the fire extinguisher for a moment, but it ran out of foam before he'd even put out the couch. Then his pants caught on fire. He ran out of the display case, burning and screaming, in the direction of the women at the perfume counter, who scattered at his approach.
But that was all I saw, because then I was rolling over and throwing up on the floor. After I was done throwing up, I passed out. At least, I think I passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was on my back and staring at the sign of the Starbucks across the hall, while people from the crowd kneeled all around me. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn't get any words out.
Iris was at my side, and she rested her hand on my forehead. "You're going to be all right," she said. "I think someone's called an ambulance."
I looked around at everyone staring down at me. All those people concerned about me - I almost couldn't believe it.
My whole body started to shake, and Iris moved her hand from my forehead to my chest, pressing me down to the mall floor. "You're going to be all right," she said again, but I couldn't stop shaking.
Walker rolled up on the other side of me. For a moment our eyes met, even as I continued shaking. Then he held out the camera so I could see the image there. It was of the time that I'd kissed Iris in the display case, before the fire.
"You're okay," he said. "There's nothing wrong with you."
"That's right," Iris said. "There's nothing wrong with you."
I couldn't stop shaking but I nodded.
"Say it," Iris said.
I couldn't look away from that picture.
"Say it," Iris said again.
"There's nothing wrong with me," I managed.
(c) Peter Darbyshire
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