The fat, bald man leaned his broom against a wall and said, “What are you kids doing in here anyway? Didn’t you read the ‘Employees Only’ sign?” He was looking at me like I was the responsible adult. “Er, yes . . . sort of. But we were . . . looking for restrooms and figured there’d be some in here.” “Sure there are, but they’re for ‘Employees Only. ’ Get it? Come on, I’ll point you to the public ones.” He stood aside so we could squeeze out past his belly. Then he herded us down a different hallway to a closed door. The fat, bald, and probably very human guy in the janitor’s uniform opened the door to the bright, bustling mall. “Public restrooms by the exit. And kids, don’t try staying here overnight. We’ve got security men patrolling the place. You’d get in big trouble.” “Don’t worry, we won’t,” I said. “It was just a game, anyway.” And it had been a fun game, I admitted to myself as we headed home. The one thing that kept nagging me was that I wasn’t sure my crazy cousin thought it was a game.
