Footwear That Fits - Lesson Three
Years have passed since I worked at any shoe store, certain people stay with you. There was no way to tell how old she was. She arrived very early. Starbucks was open, but she hadn't come for coffee. Since we had recently opened the store I was near the register. Her hand was near her face, as I approached her, I learned why. Her skin was dark, but the vivid bruising was still apparent. I could barely hear her as her wide eyes scurried around the store. Dressed in raggy jeans and layers of older sweatshirts she looked old before her time. The jerky agitation in her voice increased as I walked toward her. The dress code required us to wear clothes I wouldn't have chosen normally. I'm not very tall, there was a wiry strength about her as she asked where the food court was.
After her long thin legs carried her toward the safe person she was meeting at the food court, I couldn't settle down. While I'd like to say that I think about her from time to time, the truth is I wouldn't have remembered her had I missed the piece on child abuse at a Catholic orphanage. She wouldn't have been able to afford anything we sold, probably not even socks or a shoe horn. Waukesha County is home to more of Wisconsin's millionaires than any other. There are 72 counties in the state, that woman didn't have much in common with the white suburban woman whose house I had come to clean, but footwear is a strange business with some incredible stories. The elderly woman who opened the door was in pain. She needed surgery, but was considered a poor candidate.
I didn't want to be there, but a group at church had sent out an email stating that help was needed. I thought it wouldn't be too bad. I was divorced and didn't have much else to do, I might as well go help an old woman out with whatever tasks she needed done. While I cleaned she followed me, eventually telling me that I was like a racehorse, galloping through her home at a neck breaking pace. It was probably true. I didn't want to be there and was cleaning at a pace designed to get me out of there fast. I had left my sandals at the door. She told me I could keep them on, and recommended I go get them since her floors hadn't been cleaned recently. They seemed fine to me, but I listened to her, answering her questions about what brand they were. She learned that I had sold shoes and asked my opinion about what she had been wearing.
When I took a look at the New Balance running shoes I asked if I could see her feet. She said they were ugly, but I told her I couldn't very well give her my professional opinion without seeing her bare feet. Her right sock came off with my help. She needed assistance with the left one too. Her feet were long, very thin, purple-blue veins marbled them. She told me that she had always hated her feet and I glanced at her in surprise. Why? I needed to know. The toes on her left foot wiggled. Her second toe was a bit shorter than her first and third. When she was a child she had complained about it hurting. Her mother took her to see a doctor. He cut off the tip. That was his solution to her foot pain. She relayed this tale as if we had been sitting at brunch, or having tea together. Matter of factly, no real malice in her voice.
I had no idea what to say to that. Her right toe had significant hammering, probably the result of wearing shoes that were too short for the majority of her life. Like the first woman, she was taller and thin to the point of being bony. Her husband was gone, only one of her children lived close to her. She was incredibly lonely, grateful to have someone to talk to, I feel bad that I didn't do more to help her. I could try and justify that by saying I was going through some tough times myself, but the truth is that nobody has an easy life. You see and hear things like that and it makes me stop and think, who in their right mind could justify cutting the tip of a young girl's toe off because she was complaining about the pain? Now perhaps there was a valid medical reason for removing part of the tip of the second toe on her left foot, I don't know obviously, but the way she explained it, she told her mother it was bothering her, and her mother sided with the physician.
There are parents who refuse to buy shoes that fit for their children. One mother, I believe I have written about her elsewhere, but perhaps not. She and her son came in because she wanted inserts for his shoes, particularly the ones he wore to play soccer. When I measured his feet I asked if they had the footwear he wore to games and practice. They did, his mother went out to the car and returned with a pair that confirmed my suspicions. This teenager was wearing footwear that was way too short for his feet. Why? Footwear is expensive. That's what I was told. She was willing to spend money on the inserts, but refused to pony up for footwear that actually fit. This is the kind of situation I hate the most. Where the child is old enough to understand what is being done to them without any power to change the situation.
The parents who will spend money on Ugg boots and other name brand apparel, but skimp on shoes never ceases to amaze me. A former friend of mine was married to a man who had done well for himself. They had several children, their daughter played numerous sports. Her foot was wide and I had to bite my tongue whenever I saw her wearing the shoes that her mother had picked up for her at a rummage sale. When we were younger, we would get an enormous box of shoes from people down in Alabama who owned a shoe store. We didn't go to the store. If there were shoes that mostly fit, that's what we wore. If not, you coped. The store I worked at did more than a million dollars worth of business every year. It was old and unclean. Filthy carpeting had duct tape patches that came up when kids pulled at them. But there was no money to remodel, inventory was expensive they said.
Feet can hide secrets of the past. My fourth toe on my left foot veers to the left rather than the right. I broke the MTPJ on my left foot, but I didn't go to the doctor because we didn't have the money for it. I was carrying a wool throw blanket down the hall, slipped on it, and went down. I heard a crack, but it didn't really register since my left elbow slammed into the cold air return when I fell. I hobbled to the living room and sat on the chair at the desk we had in the corner. I don't know how I managed to walk around like that, but I did because that's what I felt I had to do at the time. It was many years later when an orthopedic surgeon asked me about the break. That joint is much larger than the one on my right foot, it bothers me when the weather changes. I thought people were making that up when I first heard it. Now I know differently.
The majority of people visiting shoe stores at the malls are not there because they have been beaten. There are elderly men and women whose parents bought them good shoes and took care of their health and wellbeing, but for those in the minority, my heart goes out to them. Pride is one of the most expensive things a person can own. It prevents you from getting help you need during times of crisis and desperation. I would say that the first woman had a softball sized swelling on her left cheek. I don't know if the older woman is alive any longer. The last thing I heard was that she had been hospitalized for reasons that were unshared, or unclear. Whenever I meet people who want to buy a great pair of running shoes, there's a part of me that is angry, and another part that hopes that they are running toward a finish line rather than away from a domestic abuser.
tl;dr
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Footwear That Fits - Lesson Four