“What about the guy standing in the corner?” Clara asked. “He’s been staring at us off and on for fifteen minutes. Do you know him?”
The man was slim. Receding hairline. Looked to be in his early thirties. Dressed in a black long-sleeved T-shirt and black jeans.
“Nope,” I said. “I don’t know him.”
We moved into the next room and checked out the coral reef. The man moved with us. We walked back to the shark room, and he followed.
“He’s definitely tailing us,” I said to Clara. “And he’s really bad at it.”
There was a brief announcement over the public address system of feeding time at the shark tank, and a handful of people moved up to the glass. Two scuba divers carrying mesh bags full of dead fish splashed into the tank from above. One of the divers looked directly at me and nodded.
“Showtime,” Clara said.
I took a deep breath and told myself this was all part of the grand scheme of things and probably necessary in terms of saving the world. I turned, walked up to the guy dressed in black, set my hands onto my hips, and glared at him. “Why are you stalking me?” I yelled in his face.
“Who, me?” he said, panic in his eyes.
“You’ve been stalking me all afternoon.”
“No. I swear. I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady.”
I leaned forward and raised the volume. “What did you call me?”
“Nothing. I swear.”
Clara was beside me. “What did you call my friend?”
“I might have called her ‘lady.’?”
Everyone was staring at us. Some people were hurrying from the room. Some were behind Clara, straining to get a better look at the crazy woman yelling at the crazy man. No one over the age of five was looking at the shark tank.
“Security!” I shouted. “This man is following me and calling me disgusting names.”
An elderly security guard came over to us. “What’s the problem here?”
I cut my eyes to the shark tank to see one
of the scuba divers swimming down to the treasure chest and lifting the lid.
“These women are crazy,” the man in black said. “They came up to me and started yelling at me for no reason.”
“Did you or did you not call my friend a ‘lady’?” Clara demanded.
“Yes, but—”
“He admits it!” Clara said.
“Is that so bad?” the security guard asked.
“It’s the way he said it,” I said. “Sneaking up behind me and whispering ‘lady.’?”
“There was no whispering,” the guy said. “Honestly, I didn’t whisper.”
I made a show of getting a shiver. “It was frightening.”
Dear lord, I thought. Isn’t Diesel ever going to get out of the stupid shark tank! How long did I have to keep this thing going?
“And I think he was taking pictures of us,” I said to the guard. “Up our skirts.”