The Ill-mannered Door (humorous sci-fi)

34.1: Of Malls and Men

As we were approaching the mall, it began to rain cats and dogs. Actually, it was angrier than simple domestic animals, so perhaps it began to rain tigers and hyenas. In any case, it was really coming down, and made visibility a challenge, not to mention that staying dry on the deck of a flying ship was right out. The sun had threated to come out briefly before that, but experience had taught me that in England, the sun was a bit of a tease and planning one's wardrobe around the weather was a full-contact sport. The good news was, if you didn't like the weather, well... wait for a bit and it will get worse.

Despite that, luck was with us, and Derek, from his perch at the front of the ship, spotted the sails of the Esmerelda as we sailed into the car park. He shouted, "There it is!"

"She's here!" the king said, raising a fist defiantly at the gloomy sky.

To which the sky responded with a sudden crack of thunder as lightning snaked across the clouds just above us and a strong wind began to blow. As I mentioned, you just need to wait a bit.

The king looked nervously at the clouds and quickly lowered his fist before quietly repeating, "Sorry. She's here."

We parked the ship in the general vicinity of the queen's vessel and left it hovering just a meter or so above some cars parked near the closest mall entrance. The sailors would stay with the ship and had orders to lift off if anyone came snooping about. Otherwise, they were to remain where they were and keep an eye on the Esmerelda.

"Come on!" Derek shouted, dropping his duffle bags down atop someone's minivan with a tremendous thump and then promptly rappelling over the side, looking every bit the action hero.

The king, Higgins, and I followed a bit less surely.

I brought my rolling luggage because one never knew what one would need on outings like this, and if Derek could tote his duffles everywhere, then I certainly wasn't going to leave my belongings behind for a bunch of unwashed sailors to pick through.

Derek had already retrieved his duffles and began to jog toward the entrance when the king finally made it down. We then started our own jog after Derek.

There were puddles everywhere as we ran through the car park toward the mall entrance, and my rolling luggage threated to roll over several times as I navigated around them.

I must admit that watching the king running about the wet and muddy car park in my fuzzy ducky slippers caused me no end of emotional strain. I swore that if that right bastard so much as stumbled into one of those larger mud puddles, I was going to tear his royal head from his pudgy body.

Thankfully, he avoided the worst of it, but once we had entered the mall and stood before a floor plan showing the location of the shops, I couldn't help but notice just how mud flecked my slippers had become. I sighed heavily at least twice as I stood beside the king, but he didn't so much as glance in my direction, the bastard. I resorted to taking deep breaths in an effort to calm myself, as it wouldn't be proper to strangle him.

Derek, who had been looking over the floor plan when we arrived, turned to the king and said, "Any idea which shop she might have gone to, Barry? There's a whole directory full of them."

"Not exactly," the king admitted.

"Not exactly?" Derek said. "Do you know anything about your own wife?"

"Well, yes, but she was never terribly particular about just one shop. She loved them all. Which was the problem really."

"Yeah, I'd say that's a problem all right. How are we supposed to find her in here then?"