Nearly Caught in the Act

I watch the mall fade in my rearview mirror as I speed away, my hands trembling on the steering wheel. My heart continues to race. It had been a close encounter. I got out of there as quickly as I could. Her scream drew a lot of attention, and the frenzy that followed was a blur as I ran for the car. Unlike all the others, I nearly got caught this time. 

I had seen her earlier that evening, appearing distraught. I followed her through the mall, flitting into one store after another where she purchased little, waiting and watching for just the right moment. I almost lost her a few times in the chaotic crowds of last-minute shoppers. I suppose waiting until Christmas Eve was not the best of ideas. 

But this is when people are the most desperate and least festive, trying to make the season jolly for their loved ones while feeling inadequate to do so. That makes it the best time to find a target. 

I followed her to the food court, where she purchased a drink and sat at a table. I leaned against the wall and observed her closely yet discreetly, looking at my shoes when she glanced in my direction. She fumbled through her purse, and a small toy tumbled onto the table. She was a mom. They were the best. 

She then pulled out an orange, peeled it, and ate it quickly. She was running out of time to shop, and I needed to find my opportunity soon. My moment arrived when she turned down the somewhat secluded hallway that led to the ladies’ room. I followed, easily closing the gap between us. I got greedy, though, and wanted to see her face. 

Even as I speed away, I feel disappointed. I glance into the mirror from time to time as I make my way home, resolving to be more careful the next time. I pull into the driveway, push the button on the garage door opener, and slip inside. I sigh when the door slides shut behind me. As I get out of the car, my wife steps through the back door to greet me. 

“How did it go?”

“It wasn’t as smooth as I wanted it to be.”

“Did you wait around again to see their face?” she asks, giving me a disapproving look.

“I couldn’t help myself.”

“That is not what it’s all about.”

“I know. I know,” I say, feeling embarrassed.

“Now, calm yourself and come on inside. Joey slipped on the ice and chipped his front tooth. He’s all right, but he has been waiting to show you. Cynthia made you a Christmas ornament. The kids are baking cookies, and we have wrapping to do before the night’s over.”

I’m glad to be home, but my mind keeps wandering. The season could be a tough time for many. It had been that way for us in years past. Hopefully, the cash I slipped into the woman’s purse at the mall would help brighten her holiday. 

Want more stories for the holidays? Try some of these! 

• Man in the Shadows – Flash Fiction
• Reindeer – Christmas Flash Fiction 
• The Princess and the Pain, a Holiday Tale – Christmas Fiction
• Gingerbread House for a Mouse: Christmas Poetry – Christmas Poetry

Brenda Cox

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Brenda Cox grew up in a small suburb in the United States but has lived most of her adult life in Asia, where she served as a humanitarian aid worker. She began writing later in life to vent and to help make sense of the world. Brenda now enjoys writing fiction, especially very short stories. Recently, she has had several of her stories published in literary journals, including Macrame Literary Journal, Cranked Anvil (Micro Monday), The Polk Street Review 2025 Anthology, and the MockingOwl Roost Literary Magazine. Brenda is retired and resides in Europe with her husband of forty-two years.

Find more from Brenda on her website.

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