Mischief in Meadow Park

“I swear to God, Jack, if you got me out of bed in my bonnet for nothing, I will put a curse on you and all your future children,” said Ciara, adjusting the stray curls back under the shiny dark blue fabric.

“I’m not having any kids.”

“That’s the curse working already,” she added with a grin.

“Yeah, Jack,” Rashan piped in, squeezing his friend's shoulder, his dark skin contrasting against Jack’s pale shoulder under the blue-toned street lamps. “This better not be another one of your big promises that ends in inevitable disappointment.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” protested Jack, flicking Rashan’s hand off his shoulder like a stink bug in August.

“Last week you told us if we snuck into the school after hours, we’d find Principal Peters and Mrs. Dennings necking in his office,” Ciara reminded him.

“And all we found was him going to town on a twelve-pack of donuts,” added Rashan.

“It was equally as entertaining, no?” Jack raised an eyebrow in false hope.

“As entertaining as catching them both cheating on their respective husband and wife?” Ciara raised an eyebrow in return.

“Plus, it got us detention for two weeks,” Rashan scoffed. “And remember when you said you could get us into the meet and greet at the Ariana Grande concert and instead we had a meet and greet with the police and missed the concert entirely?”

“Well, this won’t be like those times, I swear.” Jack wasn’t all that sure that he could keep that promise, but he wouldn’t let them see him sweat. “My sister’s boyfriend heard from a friend who saw it on Reddit. All we have to do is find the secret entrance.”

“This is the Meadow Park Mall at nearly midnight, Jack, not a damn escape room.” Ciara rolled her eyes. “But give us the stupid glue.”

The gap in Jack’s teeth was on full display as he gleamed in delight at his friends’ reluctant acceptance. He pulled up the screenshots on his phone. “To make your way in, you mustn’t be lazy. Knock eight times underneath the daisy.”

“If I can’t be lazy, I’m out,” said Ciara, snapping her fingers.

“I think it just means we’re going to have to hunt for the secret entrance,” said Jack. “It can’t be that hard!”

“Look up,” said Rashan. “We’re standing underneath the rose. Every entrance to the mall is a different flower. We just have to find the daisy.”

“Should we go left or right?” Jack asked to no replies. “Let’s go right!”

After walking the perimeter of the entire mall, it became clear that the daisy had in fact been immediately to their left.

“I hate this already,” Ciara moaned, slapping her open palm on the large door eight times, the jewelry on her fingers making loud clinks on the glass.

“Are you sure this is even legit?” Rashan whined.

“Just shut up,” Jack snapped. “You brought cash, right?”

Just then, a security guard appeared through the darkness and unlocked the door, cracking it open just enough to speak. “Password?”

“Password?” Jack’s mouth gaped open. “Nobody said anything about a password!”

“Dolly Parton!” Rashan shouted.

“Rashan!” Jack scolded him. “Why in the hell would the password be Dolly Parton?!”

“I don’t know! She’s like the one thing the entire world can agree on loving! Sorry, I panicked!”

Jack turned to the stone-faced security guard. “There’s no chance it is actually, um…Dolly Parton, is it?”

The security guard smiled. “It is, actually.”

“Really?!”

“No.” He dropped the smile.

“Well, we tried!” Ciara said, clapping her hands once. “Best be getting home!”

“Wait,” the security guard said in a low tone. “What are you kids here for?”

“You know what we’re here for,” Jack whispered.

“Forty bucks and I’ll let you in, but you can’t tell them you didn’t know the password.”

“Deal,” Jack said, the curls of brown hair over his eyes bouncing like a baby in a jolly jumper as he nodded his head. “Rashan, pay the man.”

Rashan begrudgingly forked out two twenty-dollar bills, and the man opened the door wide enough to let them slip in.

“Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen echoed through the dark, empty ghost town of a mall. Just hours ago, there would have been babies crying, teenagers shoplifting, old ladies eating A&W, and a zoo of ferocious shoppers. Now, it’s dead-quiet, other than the sweet sounds of Carly Rae and the low buzz of electricity. The smell of soaps from LUSH and old grease from the food court lingers in the air.

“Hey,” Jack turned back to the security guard, who was holding the twenty-dollar bills to the light, ensuring their authenticity. “In case they ask, what actually is the password?”

“Oh,” he said, opening the door again. “There isn’t one.” He disappeared into the darkness.

“Bastard!” Jack said.

“You’re telling me!” Rashan added. “That was my money.”

“What do we do now, Jack?” Ciara asked impatiently.

Jack pulled out his phone again and began reading more. “If the security guard asks you for a password, don’t give him one, he’s just trying to take your—” Jack’s eyes looked up from the screen to meet Rashan’s glare. “They should have put that with the first clue!” He proceeded with the clue. “You made your way in, but there’s more work to do. Three down from the beaver is where you’ll find your next clue.”

“Now what the hell does a beaver have to do with anything?” Ciara moaned.

“Roots!” Jack shouted.

“Okay, I know bleaching my hair a few weeks ago wasn’t a good idea, but you don’t have to point it out.”

“Not your hair, Rashan,” Jack laughed. “The Roots logo is a beaver!”

Ciara found a map display nearby and located the store on the third floor. The little star that says “YOU ARE HERE” told them they’re currently on the first floor. “Now I gotta climb stairs too? Those damn escalators better still be running after hours.”

The damn escalators were not still running after hours, and Ciara was about as thrilled as a porcupine in a balloon factory about it. Jack reached the beaver first, and Rashan followed a few seconds later. Ciara remained at the top of the second-floor stairs, still gasping for air.

“Okay, listen up,” Jack demanded. “Three down to the left from Roots is Spencer’s, and three down to the right is La Vie En Rose. You go right and I’ll go left. Shout if you find anything.”

“Are you sending me to the lingerie store because I’m gay?”

“What? No! I’m an ally!” Jack said. “I’ll go right then. You can go left.”

“I’m just kidding, I’ll go right.”

The boys split off, looking for any signs of a clue around the storefront. Ciara still hadn’t reached Roots before Rashan shouted. “I found something!”

Jack came running, nearly plowing through a sweating Ciara, slowly making her way in Rashan’s direction.

“Right there!” Rashan pointed to the bottom corner of the storefront window display, where a message had been written on the glass. “They must have written that backwards from the inside. Talent. What does it say? I’m not getting on the floor, no thank you.”

Jack practically threw himself to the ground as if it were an army drill and almost pressed his nose to the glass. “You thought this was it? There’s more to go. What’s next, only the eagle knows.”

Jack shot up from the floor and ran to the ledge that overlooks the first and second floors. “American Eagle!”

“What?” Ciara said, out of breath, finally joining the boys.

“It’s on the first floor!” Jack shouted.

“Back down we go!” added Rashan. “This is actually fun!” They both darted off leaving Ciara in their metaphorical dust.

“Fun?” Ciara said to herself. “Oh, that is a cute bra, though.”

“Ciara, let’s go!” Jack and Rashan echoed from the second floor.

“Let me know what the next clue is, cuz’ I won’t be coming up those stairs again if I come down!” Ciara yelled at them.

Jack and Rashan reached American Eagle, where they found a QR code sticker on the bench in front. Rashan pulled out his phone and opened the camera app to scan it.

“What does it say?” Jack begged.

“To prove you’re serious, you must prove your honour. Click the link to pay ten dollars.”

“What?!” Jack exclaimed.

“WHAT DOES IT SAY?” Ciara shouted from the third floor.

“IT SAYS WE HAVE TO PAY TEN DOLLARS TO CONTINUE!” Rashan shouted back. “That’s bullshit. I already paid forty to the security guard!”

“Does it say anything else?”

Rashan looks at the webpage again. “It’s not our fault you didn’t read the fine print the first time.”

“Just pay the money, Rashan. We’ve come too far!” Jack pleaded. “I’ll pay you back.”

“You already owe me like a hundred bucks from the last few times you’ve said that.”

“Well, add it to my tab!”

“This better be worth it,” Rashan grunted.

“It will be! When you get to lay your eyes on—”

“Are you coming back up here or what?!” Ciara screeched.

Rashan paid the money and received an email confirmation with the next clue typed into the thank-you message. “Next you’ll journey to the mountain, where your clue will be found in the ________.”

“In the what?” Jack nipped.

“I don’t know! It’s blank!”

“I like riddles. What rhymes with mountain?”

Rashan started listing off words, real and otherwise, in alphabetical order. “Bountain, countain, dountain, fountain, gountain, hountain—”

“Fountain!” Jack screamed.

“GUYS!” Ciara shouted from above. “I can see a fountain on the second floor near MEC! Their logo is a mountain!”

Ciara met them at the fountain, where all three of them searched it, short of breath, for their next secret message.

“Found it!” Ciara said. “It’s written on the inside of the edge here.”

“Nice work, Ciara!” Jack gave her a high-five. “What’s it say?”

“Well, it’s written upside down, and it’s underwater. I’m not ruining my hair, so.” Ciara stood up and stepped away from the fountain.

“I’m out fifty bucks, you can dunk your head in a damn fountain, Jack,” Rashan said pointedly.

“Fine,” Jack agreed, taking off his shirt and handing it to Rashan to avoid getting it wet. Ciara was standing at the edge, overlooking the first floor.

“Ciara,” Rashan called to her. “Hold this, I wanna film this.” Rashan tossed Jack’s shirt to her. He shouldn’t have counted on Ciara’s hand-eye coordination, because the shirt went right through her hands, over the ledge and fell to the first floor, catching on the top of the fake tree installation in the centre.

Jack’s head was already too underwater to notice. He came up gasping for air. “You’ve come this far—” he said, before sticking his head back underwater and coming back up after a few seconds. “And you’ve almost made it through.” Back down. Back up. “In the beautiful flowerpots—” “—are six remaining clues.”

“Six?!” Ciara gasped. “We’re going to be here forever.”

“But it’ll be worth it!” Jack said, water dripping down his nose, his long curls plastered against his face. “Now give me my shirt, Rashan.”

“About that…”

“I found one!” Ciara shouted from a flowerpot down the corridor.

Rashan ran to her side and read it. “It just says the?”

“There must be one word in five other pots, and we’ll have to put them together in some combination,” said Ciara.

“Seriously, where’s my shirt?” said Jack as he joined them, shaking off his dripping hair like a dog.

“Let’s split up. I’ll cover this floor since I’m already on it.” Ciara said.

“We’re all already on it. But sure. I’ll go upstairs,” Rashan agreed. “Meet back here in twenty minutes!”

They darted away, leaving a shirtless, wet Jack to wander down to the first floor.

When they reconvened, they had five words between them.

“I found the words whistle and to,” Ciara said.

“I found and, as well as come, and we already found the the,” added Rashan.

“I found my shirt hanging on top of that tree,” Jack mumbled.

“Then why are you still shirtless?” Ciara asked.

“Because I’m not seven feet tall, maybe?” Jack hissed. “Okay, what does this all mean?”

“Come to the something and whistle,” Rashan said.

“Great, so we’re just missing the most important clue,” pouted Jack.

“Well, we have to find it,” insisted Ciara. “Now that you’ve got me invested, I need to see the end.”

“Well, I’m cold. And wet,” said Jack.

“Here, you can wear my sweater,” offered Ciara. “I have a tank top on underneath.”

Jack slipped it on. “I think it’s a little small,” he said, feeling the air on his midriff.

“No, it’s working for you,” Rashan stifled a giggle. “You might single-handedly bring back crop tops for men.”

The gang searched every flowerpot they could find on each floor of the mall and still came up with nothing.

“What if we just started whistling? Everywhere? We’d come to the right location eventually, right?”

“I’m not so sure about that, Jack,” said Ciara. “What are we even supposed to whistle?”

Rashan began to whistle a tune.

“Really?” Jack scoffed. “Dolly Parton?”

“Hey, you kids!” a voice shouted from a distance.

“Shit!” Rashan screamed as the group scrambled. Rashan followed Jack, who followed Ciara, who was running toward the kids’ play area. They all hid inside the fake ice cream parlor.

“You got any rocky road in there?” A familiar voice asked. “How about double fudge?”

Jack popped his head out to find the security guard from before looking down on him.

“I thought you kids would have gotten there by now.”

They spilled out of the kids’ jungle gym like a clown car.

“We can’t find the last word,” Ciara said. “Come to the blank and whistle.”

“Ah, I know the answer,” the guard said. “But it’ll cost you.”

“Of course it will,” said Rashan. “How much?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“Fifty?!” Rashan shouted. “It was forty when we needed to get in! And you lied about the password!”

“And now you need the last clue. I see many people get stumped here and turn away. It’s fifty bucks, or you can keep looking. Or quit.”

“Pay the man, Rashan,” said Ciara.

“How do we know he’s not lying again?! This has become a very expensive night for me! All just to see a—”

“We’ll pay you back!”

“Fine.” Rashan pulled out two twenty-dollar bills and a ten and handed them to the security guard.

“It’s the flowerpot on the third floor in the hallway leading to the bathrooms by the Asian market,” he says.

“You’re just giving us the location? Not the word itself?” asked an angry Rashan.

“Didn’t it say you can’t be lazy?” the guard said as he walked away laughing, having made ninety dollars tonight.

After having made their way back up to the third floor again, they found the flowerpot in question.

“This is far too many steps for after midnight,” complained Ciara.

“It’ll be worth it,” promised Jack. “Now what does it say, Rashan?”

“Record store,” he said.

“Come to the record store and whistle,” said Jack. “I guess that kind of makes sense.”

“Please don’t tell me that’s on the first floor,” whined Ciara.

It was on the first floor.

Ciara had the best whistle of the group, and whistled along with the song playing on the mall speakers, which, for some reason, still had music playing after hours. Shorty had them apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur. The whole club was looking at her.

The rolling gate to the record store opened slightly, enough to reveal the dark silhouette of a man in a black hoodie, pulled tightly over his hat.

“Um, hello,” Jack said. “We’re here for the—”

“Shhh!”

“Sorry,” Jack said, lowering his voice. “We’re here for the—”

“Shut up, kid!” He nodded his head, indicating for them to follow him.

They were led through the dark store, into the back room, and down a set of stairs into a basement no one would expect to be there. For a moment, they each thought this might be a kidnapping scheme and that they were about to be sucked into a cult.

But then there it was. Right in front of them. Inside a glass box, with seven spotlights shining at it, highlighting its every glorious angle.

“Holy shit,” Rashan said. “It’s…”

“It’s—that’s…” Jack stuttered. “That’s it?”

“It’s a lot smaller than I thought,” admitted a disappointed Ciara.

“I can’t believe we paid ninety bucks for this,” said Jack.

“We?! I paid ninety bucks for this!” Rashan cried.

“A hundred if you include the other ten bucks you sent me.” The mystery man stepped into the light and took off his hood.

“It’s you!” Rashan said to the security guard. “This was all you? Why?”

“The graveyard shift can be pretty boring,” he said.

“So you spend it scamming kids out of their money like some Scooby-Doo villain?”

“You’re the first ones to do it, actually. But it was fun, right?”

“But this,” Rashan said, pointing to the display. “It’s not—”

“But it was fun,” the security guard cut him off. “Right?”

The gang exited the mall at the other end and walked back through the empty parking lot. As they came across the daisy entrance, they heard eight knocks and the laughs of an excited group of kids.

“Should we tell them?” Jack asked, rubbing his warm hands on his cold, exposed stomach.

“That it was a scam?” Ciara said. “And that in the end the thing was not actually—”

“Nah,” said Rashan. “It was fun.”