Christinia’s favorite place in the entire world was the Shanoosik Mall. So when the three of them—Figgrotten, her mom, and her sister—stepped into the vast echoing building, Christinia almost levitated off the floor with excitement.
She started talking very fast and broke into a full run, pointing at different stores she wanted to go into. Mrs. Pauley took a deep breath and told Christinia to cool her jets. “Limited funds,” she sighed. “So, limited fun.”
“Oh, Mom, you always say that!” Christinia moaned.
“Okay, okay,” their mom said. “You lead the way. We’ll let you shop for the first leg of this.”
Figgrotten, already sweating under her brown wool coat, was wishing she’d been allowed to stay home and spend the day up on the rocks. It was cold and clear and beautiful outside. But the fact was she had to go, as all three pairs of her shoes were getting too small for her and it had become a real problem. Even now, as she followed Christinia into a store that had deafeningly loud music and blinking lights, her toes were pressed up against the front of her sneakers and they were starting to hurt.
Christinia was moving through the racks at lightning speed, and Figgrotten and her mom exchanged glances. But then Figgrotten’s mom shrugged and started poking through the racks of clothes as well. Figgrotten had her hands clasped behind her back and she walked slowly around the store. Stores always made her feel super hot and weak-tired. For someone who never had taken a nap her entire life, Figgrotten always wanted one when she was in any kind of clothing store. She yawned and looked around and then something caught her eye and she went up to one of the racks and studied what turned out to be a large brown puffy coat with a fake-fur hood. It reminded her of the jacket she’d seen in the old photos of Robert Peary, the guy who had first explored the North Pole. Figgrotten unbuttoned her wool coat, placed it carefully on the floor by her feet, and slipped into the puffy coat, and instantaneously she knew it was for her. It was lightweight but warm. In fact, it reminded her of her beloved sleeping bag, which was one of her most prized possessions. She pulled the hood up over her head and cinched it around her face so just her nose was exposed, then she walked over to the full-length mirror and looked at herself.
She turned to each side, then stood facing herself.
“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” Christinia said. “I mean, you can’t wear the hood up like that unless you’re completely alone, but other than that, it looks kind of good. Those coats are in now.”
“Plus it fits you, unlike your old coat.” Her mom was now looking at her as well.
Figgrotten looked over at her wool coat on the floor and felt a surge of sadness. The coat was a friend to her.
“If I get this, I won’t have to give up my old coat, will I, Mom?” she asked.
Christinia and her mom chuckled at this. “Obviously you can keep it,” her mom said.
Figgrotten walked over and picked it up and gave it a reassuring hug, but she didn’t take off the new coat and each time she caught a glance of herself in a mirror she felt excited. The way she’d felt when she put the clip into her hair. It was different and new and it looked good. Almost pretty.
Things didn’t go as smoothly in the shoe store, however. The shoes Figgrotten chose were what Christinia referred to as “man shoes.” And she became enraged at one point about them.
But Figgrotten didn’t give a hoot. The shoes were a cross between a sneaker and a hiking boot, and they had massive treads that she imagined would cling to the rocks so perfectly she wouldn’t have to use her hands going up and down.
“But they don’t look good!” Christinia practically wailed.
“So!” Figgrotten snapped. “They feel good. It’s not all about looking good, you know.”
“Ugh,” Christinia said, and turned and walked out of the store.
But Figgrotten got the shoes anyway, and when they sat down for slices of pizza in the food court, she had on both her new coat and her new shoes, and she was beginning, for the first time, to understand why the mall was sort of okay. Mrs. Pauley was going over her list of things they still needed to get when Christinia suddenly sat up and said, “Hey, look, there’s Mr. Stanley!”
And sure enough, there he was, standing out in front of Barnes and Noble, looking into the window. Figgrotten set her pizza down. She was thinking she’d run over to him and say hi, but she hesitated. She felt a little familiar stab about him. He looked so alone there, on a Saturday, at the mall. But then, just as she was thinking this, a man came out of the store and it was clear that Mr. Stanley had been waiting for him. They spoke to each other and laughed and walked on.
Figgrotten now had forgotten about her pizza. There was something about the way the two of them walked together, a kind of familiarity with each other, that made her suddenly think. She glanced over at Christinia and her mom and they both looked the same way.
“Oh wow.” Christinia sat back in her chair. “I think Mr. Stanley maybe has a boyfriend! Cool!” she said.
“You know, it’s possible,” Figgrotten’s mom said.
But Figgrotten hadn’t moved. Her mind was all topsy-turvy, as a new thought had flown in. Maybe Mr. Stanley was gay. She knew about people being gay from her Life Studies class, but she’d never known anyone who was, in fact, gay.
“Frances,” her mom was saying. “Honey, there are many people who are gay. You know that, right?”
“I just had no idea,” Figgrotten said. “I’m just so…” She paused and looked at her mom. “I’m just so relieved he’s not alone. I mean, maybe that was his husband.”
Christinia made a soft noise and Figgrotten turned and saw her sister’s eyes had teeny-tiny tears swimming around the edges. Christinia leaned over and threw both her arms around her sister and sniffed.
“Aww, that’s so nice,” Christinia said softly.
Thinking that Mr. Stanley might be gay made Figgrotten like and respect him even more than she had before. Now, not only was he smart, he was courageous because he was being himself. She knew firsthand this was never easy. It was nothing she hadn’t known already about him, but this just proved it even more.
Figgrotten’s mom told her she thought it might be better not to tell everyone that Mr. Stanley had a boyfriend. “Sad to say, people can be unkind.”
“The word is also prejudiced,” Christinia said through a bite of pizza.
Figgrotten didn’t need to be told any of this. She knew about unkindness. The two girls making the gagging sound at her in the bathroom came into her mind. And, horribly, her yelling at James was another example. Yes, she thought, she knew all about that sort of thing.