Carousel Read Free Page A

compared to Bed Bath and Home, but the crispy feel of sheets straight out of the packet, with their sweet, plasticy smell, was pretty addictive.
    Linen eventually gave way to electrical and the walls of HD televisions that I had turned off long ago. Initially I was pretty excited about the electrical section. Watching DVDs and Blu-rays from JB Hi-Fi on huge 3D LCD LED ADD TVs. Gaming on the demo consoles chained to the cabinets beneath. But there was something kind of sullen about a TV with no reception. While Carousel had plenty of power, it was a total black spot for any kind of communication. No TV. No internet. Not even radio. Sure we could watch stuff on disc, and we did a lot of this, but every time I walked by the TVs I couldn’t help but wish they were screening the latest
Modern Family
or
X Factor
. Shit, I’d even settle for
MasterChef
. Instead they sat dormant and lifeless. As disconnected from the world as we were.
    Then there were the escalators. Static and exhausting. If there was a switch for these we hadn’t found it. The increased fall of the stationary stairs meant that traversing was unusually difficult and made Taylor feel like she was ‘going to die in this creepy mall’. I used a collection of long cardboard sheets to slide down to ground floor. After a few days practice it was relatively easy. The only downside was lugging all the sheets back up every so often.
    Behind my bunk and out of view was a small giftware section. Several stands full of cards in sections like His Birthday, Her Birthday and Friendship. Every Sunday I would pick out the cheesiest card I could find from the With Regret section, sign my name, put it in an envelope and drop it off to Lizzy. She would respond the next day with the worst Happy Anniversary card she could find, trudging up my escalator while I was out microwaving soup or kicking around a soccer ball. One Sunday I started watching the
Lord of the Rings
box set and forgot to leave Lizzy her card. She brooded for two days. I realised then that the cards were important and I haven’t missed one since.
    It sounded like the rain had set in and I could come back and listen later if I wanted, so I got up and went to the bathroom. There were Mens, Ladies, Disabled andStaff toilets on my level. Fortunately the staff toilets had a shower.
    At first it had been pretty uninviting. Basically a cubicle without the toilet. But, thanks to an abundant supply of toiletry items, it wasn’t so bad anymore.
    I stood under water, under rain, for a good half hour. Thankfully wherever the hot water supply was coming from, like the power, it seemed inexhaustible.
    I towelled off and walked around to the Mens where I kept a basin. The Ladies was closer, and I’ve never liked using a trough, but something still felt weird about going in there.
    It had started getting cold in the mornings so I had laid out a series of bathmats in a collage surrounding the basin I used. Coupled with the piles of shave cream, toothbrushes and deodorants I had gathered, the room went from stark white to disco colour in a footstep. Being in there alone, with the long line of silent cubicles, could be pretty creepy. A while ago I decided to prop the doors open with garden gnomes from Backyard Bonanza. I figured as long as the doors were open there couldn’t be anyone hiding behind them. The others felt the same so we spent a day gnoming the whole centre. Now whenever you went to the toilet a gnome was stationed outside.
    My radio crackled. I stopped brushing my teeth and listened. It was Taylor.
    â€˜We’re moving to berry Pop-Tarts. Interested?’ she asked.
    â€˜Yeah. Be down in a sec,’ I replied.
    â€˜Awesome.’
    We’d made a pact to keep the radios on after losing each other for a night during the first week. Taylor had stayed out late checking to see if any of the doors would open on the south side of the building. Lizzy was bunkered down in the