I walk through the Mall of America today. Middle of the day means fewer people and interesting stories I try to interpret.

My purpose involves preparing for our big trip by purchasing a long searched for rain coat.

But I take the long way there.

Past the man with a long wig, hairs tucked behind his ears, high heels, and gown with straps slipping off his shoulders. He stumbles past me and I try not to stare. Do we call him “she” or “they”? I am behind the times maybe or not well researched but describing only what I see.

I pass a man without a mask holding the hand of a woman wearing a mask. I contemplate what masks are able to hide as I take in his unshaven chin that has doubled. Why is she masked and he not? Is it a sign of political differences? Perhaps she is immunocompromised and extra careful? But then, if he loves her, why wouldn’t he as well?

I pass the woman and man pausing to rearrange their three children. She looks longingly at a shop with home goods while he sighs as he works with the stroller that isn’t working right. The oldest two boys are twins and their eyes are ringed with a skipped nap. The youngest, in a stroller, cries freely of her own nap free day. Maybe they came to escape with hopes naps would ensue and it didn’t work?

My feet want me to go, and go. Stopping to browse isn’t on the menu today. Perhaps because I know school pick up time isn’t far away. Perhaps it’s because I believe the faster I move the better I will escape all the uncovered faces. Once upon a time, wearing a mask wasn’t part of my wardrobe. Now it feels permanent and I question why someone doesn’t wear one. It’s like a shirt. Pants. Shoes.

I reach my store and three boys, barely men, greet me heartily. I’m the only customer. They are well masked and I sigh with relief. I crack jokes; the eyes above their masks crinkle with smiles. They help me find my coat and I press on.

Past the rides in the center of the mall, whipping empty seats back and forth across the open air. Past the closed fountains that no longer offer water for free. Past the closed restaurants because they can’t stay open without enough people coming in. Past the unseen germs and particles in the air.

I am trying to push past the pandemic but it lingers, touching life in every single way.

I want to move on.

There’s a big trip coming.