Page 15 of The Girl on Hallow's Eve

They laugh again and Sam and I glance at each other. He shakes his head and I chuckle.

“It isn’t technically open yet, remember,” Claire reminds him.

“Alright, I’ll give you that,” Lionel says. “For these special guests, event organizers promised a party atmosphere, complete with access to many of the mall’s stores, food from the food court restaurants, music, and more. I’ve even heard there will be some surprises throughout the night.”

“That’s right. It should be an experience to remember. And since they could only invite a small number of guests, but don’t want all of the rest of us to feel like we’re being totally left out, we’re going to be following along with the event with live footage throughout the next few hours.”

“And I can’t confirm anything, but I have a feeling there might just be a few surprises to be had for our friends at home,” Lionel adds with a big, dramatic wink toward the camera.

Claire makes an ooooh sound and looks over at him. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what they have up their sleeves.” She turns her attention back to the camera. “The party started a couple of hours ago, so it’s already in full swing. Fortunately, we had our very own George McCarthy out there to cover the arrival of the guests and the beginning of the event. We’ll go ahead and show that pre-recorded segment before shooting it over to him for our live coverage.”

The screen shifts away from the news desk to an image of a man standing right outside the same entrance to the mall that Sam and I went into for the open house. He’s holding a long microphone tethered to a wire that leads off-screen and is staring at the camera unblinking as he waits for the signal to start. Behind him, the glass doors to the mall glow against the evening darkness. It’s not the bright white light that will be there during normal operations but flashing colorful lights, as if they’ve transformed the food court into a nightclub.

The image remains static for a few seconds before starting.

“Good evening, this is George McCarthy and I’m here at the brand new Village Square Mall right outside Sherwood to bring you footage of their pre-opening celebration. The doors will open in just a couple of minutes and the guests are already lined up outside, ready with their invitations and hopefully plenty of energy so they can shop ‘til they drop all night long.” The camera sweeps down the line of mostly female shoppers, who burst into loud cheers. When it comes back to George, he’s laughing softly under his breath. “It sounds like they have the energy part without a problem.”

There’s a tremendous difference between the way he’s speaking and the presentation of the anchors handling the beginning of the show. He is a reporter, sent out to handle everything from dramatic weather patterns to serious criminal stories to fluff pieces like this. He is poised and polished, clearly the product of a dedicated journalism program that taught him how to hold himself and how to present information clearly and effectively. He’s the one who brings the worst news to the viewers and is able to do it with a sense of grace and dependability that makes taking it in smoother and somehow less harsh.

Lionel and Claire are also journalists. They went to school and were trained to deliver stories in their own way, but they are far more about the entertainment than George. While they do deliver difficult stories and introduce the coverage he’s doing out in the field, they also have their scripted banter and measured laughter. I much prefer George’s approach. I don’t need my news consumption to also be like having coffee in a sitcom.

The reporter is making his way down the line of guests, picking some of them out to interview about the event. They are visibly excited, but I have a feeling much of their bouncing and shifting their weight back and forth has to do with the cold fall temperatures they’re standing in rather than just their anticipation of getting let inside soon. One of them shows off the invitation each of them is holding. They have their names on them as well as identifying information that ensures they are the people who were selected to attend the event.

I have a feeling this serves a dual purpose. It gives the guests a sense of exclusivity and importance, making them feel special because they have, in essence, the golden ticket. But it also acts as a means of security. In order to get through the doors, everyone must have one of these invitations, preventing unwanted crashers from getting in.

They haven’t been shown on the footage, but I’m sure there’s security personnel in place around the mall. Even without the tension and potential difficulties surrounding this particular opening, having security guards in place is a basic feature of malls. Any time there is that much space, that many people, and abundant money and goods, it’s a wise idea to ensure a sense of safety and control.

“I feel like we’re getting a glimpse of what that place is going to look like on Black Friday,” Sam says.

I scoff. “This is nothing. The mall is going to be gridlock that whole day. People are going to pack up their Thanksgiving leftovers and stake their claim on the best parking spots in the middle of the night.”

“So, are you going to put Xavier’s gravy in a thermos to keep it warm, or are you going to go the all-inclusive sandwich route?” Sam asks.

I shake my head at him and laugh before looking back at the screen, but I have a feeling he isn’t too far off. Xavier does appreciate a tradition. He is very strict in his observation of the holidays and what is and is not acceptable at varying points throughout the season. In particular, no observance of Christmas is allowed until after Thanksgiving dinner has been eaten and night has fully fallen. At that point, it’s a total Yuletide extravaganza, complete with themed pajamas and his first glass of eggnog of the season. In the last couple of years, he’s also started getting into the idea of Black Friday shopping. Not necessarily for the gift-acquiring element, but for the cultural involvement. He sees it as a pinnacle seasonal experience and, therefore, something he has to do in order to have truly celebrated the holidays.

“Alright, it looks like it’s time,” George says, the enthusiasm rising slightly in his voice. “The doors are opening and soon we will get our first look at how The Village Square Mall celebrates.”

“How could you do this?”

A voice shouting from off-camera catches the reporter’s attention. The guests behind him are streaming inside, but a few falter and look the way of the shouting as well.

“Excuse me, you can’t be here,” another voice says from somewhere behind the camera.

The footage cuts and the next thing we see is George inside the mall, smiling in a pool of white light provided by the crew as the bright multicolored lights flash and strobe around him.

“That was strange,” I note.

“I guess one of the protestors decided they were going to make a scene after all,” Sam remarks. “Since this segment is pre-recorded, they were able to just edit out whatever happened.”

“It must not have been so bad. They’re just carrying on like nothing happened,” I say.

We watch as the reporter walks around the food court and shows off some of the decorations for the festivities.

“You can see, when they said party, they weren’t exaggerating. Guests coming inside were immediately welcomed by lights, music, and decorations, and already the restaurants are serving up food and I’ve seen shoppers carrying bags full of their finds. Let’s see what else they have in store.”

“In store?” Sam groans. “That’s an awful pun. I expected more from him.”

“Does that mean no puns or just better ones?”

---