There are many malls in Phoenix. We go to the closest one. Even though we will take the best we will be able to find, somewhere closer to our homes is more fitting and less time consuming when it will come to commuting.
It is not the biggest in the city, but not the smallest either. However, I'm starting to regret inviting Emmie to join me. I'm regretting feeling happy when I convinced her to endeavor a mature change in her life, and like me, try to start earning some wages on her own.
I sigh with exasperation, and pull her away from the window she was almost drooling against, again.
"Emmie! We are not here to shop! How many times do I have to repeat that?"
With one hand around her wrist, and the other at her waist which it is sinking into, I drag the red-head forward, trying not to feel a sting at the contrast between my focus and her constant distraction. And for that I hold back the sigh at the tip of my soft lips.
"Come on, Max~ Those clothes are beautiful~ And that bag… Look at those shoes, the high heels. Aren't you tempted."
I look back, and indeed, the clothes, the shoes and the accessories are not bad. Just a few months ago, I would have stopped, just like her, and not only to leer at them. I would have bugged mom or sis, or better yet, dad, until I got at least something to go back with. And that would have devolved into all the women of the family purchases, much to the chagrin of the one who would have paid, and helped us carry them.
Though, he would have smiled, still. He would have laughed, even.
"Max."
Emmie's call pull me out of my melancholy. I put the lid back of the hole that may never disappear, and shoot her a sidelong glance.
"What!? Let's go. And those things are about to get even cheaper because the season is ending. If you want to buy them, come back later. Maybe you will even have your own money by then."
The red eyes flicker with surprise, before suddenly brightening up. She stops being a drag and takes the lead to step on the escalator.
"You are right, Max! Let's go. Let's go and find a job. I will buy, no, I will wait for the winter fashion and jump on the train of new models! Come!"
I'm speechless. I should have known what motivates girls better. I'm one too, after all. Well, I don't think Liz would have been more motivated to get herself beautiful clothes instead of getting gifts for mom, and dad.
I shake my head. But I'm also relieved. Curing Emmie's depression will not be difficult. And Helene too. Maybe an outing will be for the best, with shopping and a picnic?
I smile, and point to the side, upon reaching the end of the escalator.
"Let's go there."
It is a jewelry shop.
Quantity or quality. I don't have time. I have school plus my own self-imposed learning assignment. Moreover, for getting rich, quantity never quite cut it, because, well, how long do we get to live exactly? And that means, the race can't be only about endurance. Without a certain speed, there is no need to even think about its end.
Of course, I'm not counting on a part-time job to get rich. Yeah, not by a long shot. But for efficiency, for great returns, some options are crossed, and only a few are left.
I blink. My thoughts pause. Now that I think about it, I have overlooked something. I have been learning with a cheat-like facility since I changed. But since I can learn easily, can I teach just as easily? Can I, with focus, spot the confusion in the mind of someone and target my teaching to the point of being like my sister holding a scalpel over ailing body parts?
I could have taken tutoring. And even, with experience some time later, I could have subscribed to online teaching and tutoring classes where I would have created videos for people to buy and create a passive income for me.
I take a deep breath. That intellectual path is so appealing. But…
I look to my right, at Emmie who is observing the shop even as she has stopped with me, and shake my head. That path is too exclusive. And the returns may be good and stable, but not incredible.
But I will see later. Life has more than one branch.
"Excuse me? Miss?"
"Hello. Welcome to…"
The warm welcome is almost steep in affection. Though it doesn't last. Only those bringing money are family members. The rest are just nuisances. That is what we transitioned into when we tried to see the manager, and the latter didn't give us more time than her patience, that has gone from professional to fake, managed to survive.
"All our employees have been trained by the headquarters, so we do not take any part-timer, much less minors. But of course, you are welcome to browse through the pieces we have here, and maybe think about a gift for your moms."
The saleswoman's smile at least was sincere enough when she sent us off. Even if the hope for the future she is pushing us toward is more illusory than anything, that is enough for her affectionless smile to remain sincere.
Outside, we stand there looking at the passing crowd.
"What now, Max?"
I look back, then look at the other shops. This place is full of options. If one does not work, then somewhere else will do.
"Let's go. We will try elsewhere."
Thus, hand in hand, we walk away. We move around the mall, and stop at the jewelry shops to try our luck. But it doesn't amount to much, it seems.
We are met with refusal everywhere. We are not asked to try, to argue our case, to pass any test. We are simply met with walls, some more polite than the others.
From the middle of the afternoon to its approaching end, we stroll through the whole dozens of thousands square meters with no success in our endeavor. The commissions I have been aiming at with jewelry sales have turned into fleeting clouds drifting away.
With cold drinks, we sit down on a bench on the ground floor, tired, both physically and emotionally. While sipping our drinks, we look around in silence.
My eyes follow the crowd, while my mind is empty. Until Emmie Snape's me out of it with a question.
"What now, Max?"
Yeah, what now? After eating all the different manners of excuses and rejections, what now?
I look up, then lower my head, but something catches my eyes. I blink, and look at the bags in the hands of those going from the second floor to the third one, the same floor where I have pulled Emmie away from a window to the same floor where we have been met with our first cold shoulder.
I blink again, then again, then it clicks. I want to slap myself, but I love myself too much for that.
I jump up with a grin and pull Emmie along.
"Come, Emmie! I have found the place for us!"