Read Online The Escape Diaries by Juliet Rosetti - Free Book Online

until I was near enough to Ms. Illinois Plates
to smell her expensive perfume. She and Sis moved to the edge of the balcony,
with its dramatic view of the center’s most famous feature—The Great Wall
of Potties .
    Two stories high,
floor to ceiling, row upon row, column upon column, hung toilets in a rainbow
of blush pinks, dusty blues, sea-foam greens, and harvest golds. Bizarre yet
strangely compelling; this display gave new meaning to the expression off
the wall. It was the Kodak moment of the tour; everyone wanted their
picture taken with the Great Wall as backdrop.
    Illinois Plates
was fumbling with her camera. She didn’t notice as I bumped against her purse,
pretending to be checking out the Great Wall. My right hand spidered toward her
cellphone pocket, where she’d stuffed her car keys.
    “Hey!” Her kid
suddenly wheeled around and eyeballed me. Two thousand dollars’ worth of
orthodontic wire on his teeth and he was decked out like a street thug, his
pants artfully ripped, his shoes unlaced, his T-shirt sagging to his knees. He
held up the electronic gadget he’d been playing with, which appeared capable of
sending e-mail, running television programs, and launching the Space Shuttle. I
didn’t know what it was. Spend a few years locked away and you come out feeling
like Rip Van Winkle. The gizmo was tuned to a local news station running the
ever-popular escaped convict story.
    “It’s her,” the
kid shrilled. “The serial killer! The axe murderer!”
                Everyone
on the balcony swiveled around to gape. I stood there frozen, forcing a smile
and trying to look like an innocent tourist.
    “The escaped
convict!” The little twerp jabbed his finger at me. “Mazie Maguire.”
                “I
am not!” I snapped.
                The
kid’s mother whirled around. “It is her.” She gasped, yanking the boy to
her bosom.  
    He wrenched away,
twitching with excitement. “She was sneaking up on us!” he screeched. “I saw
her. I bet she was going to stab us.” He eyed me with greedy curiosity. “How
many people did you kill?” he asked.
                More
people swarmed around, jostling for position. “Ohmygod!” shrieked a woman.
“It’s her! The one who shot a guard and broke out of prison!” She thrust a pen
and a ripped-out bank deposit slip at me. “Quick—sign it—before
they throw you back in the can!”
                A
gray-haired woman with a walker elbowed her. “Wait your turn, toots. I was here
first. Now sign this to Junior and don’t forget to date it—”
                I
felt a sharp tug at the back of my neck. Spinning around, I caught the little
creep hacking at my hair with a Swiss Army knife.
                “I’m
gonna sell it on eBay!” he crowed, holding up a swatch of my hair. “Bet I get a
million bucks.”
                I
grabbed for the knife, but he danced away. “When they catch you, you’re gonna
get the electric chair. Z-z-z-zt!”
                “Wisconsin
doesn’t have the electric chair!” I was itching to smack that smirk off his
self-satisfied little face.
                “Then
they’ll hang you!” He mimed a noose, bugging his eyes and lolling his tongue.
    I jerked my head
around, trying to find an escape route, but the crowd was edging in on me,
cellphones held up like villagers brandishing crosses at a vampire.
                “What’s
going on?”
                A
security guard shouldered his way through the crowd, his shoulder patch
identifying him as a member of the Safe’n’Sound Security Squad . Blond,
clean-cut, and butt-chinned, here was Dudley Do-Right, keeping the toilets of
America safe for democracy.
                “That
there is Mazie Maguire,” the elderly woman informed him. “The one who
machine-gunned two guards and busted out of prison in an armored truck.”