Looking around Rachel noticed that nearly all the other ‘kids’ were indeed barefoot, only a couple wearing socks. “But… but you’ve got shoes!” Rachel insisted, hoping to stay one level above the rest of the mindless tots in this place.
Pam chuckled as she slipped one sneaker off and started on the other. “Yes dear, what a smart girl you are. I need my shoes because I have to go out and do grown-up things. Children have no need for such things. Don’t worry, you’ll be much more comfy this way,” she assured, slipping the second shoe off.
Rachel felt so powerless. It was silly to be so wounded by simply having her shoes taken off her, yet it made her really sad. She knew she shouldn’t be getting so worked up over it, that she was acting like a dumb little kid, and yet she felt her nose clogging with mucus, her eyes tearing up. She fought to maintain control, sniffling and blinking her eyes to hold back the tears. It was just shoes, she reminded herself. And stupid kiddie shoes she hated anyway. Of course it was more than that. Rachel was crying because she was powerless to stop the woman, because she felt trapped and dependent.