The Glass Wall (Return of the Ancients Book 1) (10 page)

It was the perfect gift. After all, she’d help me get a cage for
my
mouse.

I reached over to pick it up, but it had a cable attached that anchored it to the shelf. It was one of those theft prevention things.

“Ah, you want one of those?” a voice asked. An overeager woman in her forties at the checkout stand rushed over and grabbed a key that dangled from her neck. “I’ll just unlock it for you and take it to the counter.”

“Yeah,” I said, a little taken aback by her aggressiveness.

“We have to lock these up, you know,” she said as she freed the computer mouse from the shelf. “Kids are always trying to steal these.”

“How terrible,” I said.

“Well, it’s bad parenting!” She pursed her lips in disapproval. “Kids these days have no values!”

“Yeah.” I nodded, wondering if I should just go steal something else.

“Are you going to pay now?” she asked.

“I’ve got to get something else,” I replied, pointing back over my shoulder.

“Well, then, I’ll just keep it up here for you. I have another customer. Got to run!” She smiled at me and trotted back to her checkout stand, setting the mouse on the cluttered countertop behind her.

I watched her chatting intently with her new customer.

It was now or never.

That mouse was the perfect gift.

Not allowing myself to think, I walked by the counter and snagged the package. She still had her back to me. Walking down the aisle, I turned and darted down another one. At the corner, I dropped my backpack, as if by accident and bent to tie my shoe. In a flash, I had the mouse stuffed in there and my shoe retied.

Pleased, I shouldered my backpack and looked for a way to get out of the electronics department. I was sure the mouse had one of those tag sensors on it that had to be demagnetized, and I knew it would go off as soon as I walked past the detection point at the exit.

There were several other customers milling around. I browsed a little, waiting for a woman with a big cartload of items to leave. Finally, she checked out and as she pushed her purchases out of the electronics blockade, I zipped past her cart.

The beeper went off and the woman stopped in the middle of the exit. She looked at her bags in confusion and the clerk rushed over.

“I must have forgotten to demagnetize something!” she was saying as I hurried away.

I grinned. I was halfway there. I just had to employ the same technique as I left the store, but that was easy. There were hoards of people trying to leave.

Slipping behind a woman with two bratty kids, I calmly walked out of the store’s main exit to the sidewalk and expelled a sigh of relief.

I had taken only a single step toward the bus stop when I heard a voice.

“Miss, you’ll have to come with me.”

Two burly security guards bore down on me and my heart stopped.

“You didn’t pay for that mouse in your backpack,” one of them said.

“M-Mouse?” I asked, feigning surprise, but my lips weren’t cooperating. They froze.

“We’ll have to take a look,” the other said, yanking my backpack off and opening it up.

People were slowing down, beginning to stare at me as my humiliation mingled with terror.

The security guard withdrew the mouse from my backpack. “You got a receipt for this?”

I couldn’t even manage a squeak.

The man grunted and reached into his back pocket to withdraw a pair of handcuffs. He dangled them in front of my nose. “Want to tell me your name, kid? Got some parents you want me to call?”

The thought of Al or Betty having to come down here to find out I’d just shoplifted Betty’s birthday present was too much to bear. They would be so disappointed in me. They’d probably kick me out and return me to Neelu. The thought made me sick to my stomach. Resolutely, I sealed my lips. I wasn’t about to tell them who I was. It wasn’t a good plan, but it was all I could think of. I had to think of a way out of this without Al or Betty finding out.

The cool metal cuffs circled my wrists, and I found myself escorted back into the store. I focused on my feet so I didn’t have to see the people staring, but I did see one kid from the corner of my eye. He was a little boy of about four, looking at me with his mouth wide open and his forgotten finger jammed up his nose. Oddly, seeing his shock made me more ashamed than I’d ever been in my life. I don’t know why.

The security guards paraded me through the store. I was sure we had circled the entire thing several times before I ended up in an office, and they told me to sit down on one of the plastic chairs next to a small round table. There was a desk littered with papers and above it, a dozen monitors mounted on the wall that were scanning the entire store.

I realized with a sinking heart that they must have been watching me the entire time.

“Want to tell me your name, kid?” One of them asked while he undid the handcuffs. “Or do you want to call your parents? Or maybe a lawyer?”

I couldn’t think. I didn’t know what to do. I was discovering of late that I was terrible in stressful or emergency situations. Apparently, my brain just froze.

“Well, I’m sure you have ID in here?” The other man plopped my backpack on the table and undid the buckle.

With horror, I remembered I still had several emergency forms in my notebooks that had my name and Betty’s phone number scrawled all over them. I hadn’t turned the forms in yet. Suddenly, I was close to tears. Why had I been so stupid? I wanted to cry, but I clenched my fists. I knew better. I had to face the consequences. Whatever they were, I knew in my heart that I totally deserved them.

The man opened my backpack, but the phone suddenly rang. He picked up the receiver and grunted several times. Finally, he said, “Right. We’ll be there.”

“What is it?” the other man asked.

“Maybe a mistake,” the man mumbled.

Neither one looked at me as they quickly left the room.

I grabbed my backpack and hugged it close.

Would Betty hate me if I called her and confessed? I picked up my cell phone and entered half of her phone number before flipping it shut. She had no obligation to help me. She was just a foster parent who received money from the state for taking me into her home. And even if she tolerated my mistake, Al certainly wouldn’t. He ran the neighborhood crime watch, after all. He wouldn’t be pleased to discover he was harboring a criminal under his own roof.

Tears threatened. I had made a horrible mistake. I never should have tried to shoplift again, but it was too late. Now I’d probably have to leave the first foster home that I actually liked!

The door rattled open and one of the security guards came back. “Well, Sydney, your brother explained everything. You’ve got to be more careful and you sure could have talked to us and explained yourself! I’m sure you can see how we misunderstood. Your actions were very suspicious.”

“Misunderstood?” I blinked, utterly confused.

“Yeah, I mean, take a look at this tape,” the guard said, reaching over to flick a button with his finger. “We could clearly see you putting that mouse in your backpack. It looked like you were stealing it. We didn’t know your brother had already paid for it and that you guys were trying to hide it from your mom. You really shouldn’t do that in a store. It can get you in a lot of trouble!”

I was more confused than ever, but he didn’t notice.

He began frowning himself as he stared at the video screen. Swearing a little under his breath, he rewound the tape and hit play again.

I saw myself talking to the clerk and then walking by the counter. I cringed. They had been watching me the entire time. I was so stupid. But then there was a blur and I disappeared. For several minutes, the camera showed views of empty aisles and other customers walking around, even the lady with the big cartload of items that I’d passed several times.

I wasn’t anywhere on the video.

The other security guard came in and the man looked up. “Jose, take a look at this.”

Jose watched the monitor and they both frowned at one another.

The phone rang.

“Yes, yes, I’ll bring her right out!” Jose said, frowning even more as he hung up the phone. “Well, alright then, time for you to go, Sydney. Just be more careful next time. If you had talked to us from the beginning, we could have cleared this up a lot sooner.”

I nodded. I didn’t question my luck. I just followed the man out the door as he said, “Ah, here is your brother.”

I looked straight up into Rafael’s face.

Chapter Nine - Bean There, Baked That

Rafael shook the hands of the security officers. He was dressed normally enough this evening in jeans and a fashionable shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He wore minimal glitter, but his eyeliner was as bold as ever. The security officers stared, just a little, but were congenial enough and even apologized for the misunderstanding as Rafael put his arm about my shoulders and guided me out of the office.

I didn’t say anything. I felt terrible. I knew I was guilty and it felt completely wrong to hear the security officers apologizing for just doing their job. As for Rafael, I couldn’t understand why or how he was there, and I didn’t know whether to be grateful or scared.

He kept his arm anchored about my shoulders until we exited the store.

“I believe this is yours,” he said, handing me a gray plastic bag.

It was the mouse. I flushed crimson and looked at my feet. I didn’t want to even talk to him. “I didn’t pay for it,” I choked.

“I know. I did,” he replied. He reached down and molded my fingers over the handle of the bag.

“Why did you try to steal it?” I whirled to see Harmony lounging against the building, drumming her fingers on her arm.

“Enough, Harmony,” Rafael murmured softly.

“I’m just curious.” She exchanged a look with him. “I think we have the right to know. After all, we rescued her.”

“Not here,” he said before I could even respond.

I watched them glare at each other, and I got the distinct impression that Harmony hadn’t wanted to rescue me at all. I actually understood that, but it hurt all the same. I frowned, wondering why Rafael
had
helped.

Thrusting the bag back into his hands, I said, “This isn’t mine. I can’t even pay for something so expensive, and I don’t know why you helped me but thank you, anyway. I won’t ever be that stupid again.” Pointing to the bus stop, I added, “I’ve got to get home before Betty gets worried.”

“There is no need to be concerned over Betty,” Rafael assured me calmly. “I already called to let her know we’ll be giving you a ride home within the hour.”

I swallowed. Had he told Betty about the shoplifting?

“And as it’s quite chilly, I wouldn’t mind a hot drink before we leave,” he continued, pointing to a small coffee shop across the street named “Bean There, Baked That”.

I’d been so upset that I hadn’t noticed the rain. Rafael extended a polite hand and half bowed. Not knowing what else to do, I covered myself with my hood and followed him and Harmony to the coffee shop.

It was a quaint place, homey and chic at the same time. Paintings of big red and yellow flowers covered the walls and blue, hand-blown glass lamps hung suspended on silver chains over each table. Clusters of big, overstuffed chairs surrounded the espresso bar and bakery in the center.

“Would you care for anything?” Rafael inquired with a bewitching smile.

I shook my head and muttered, “No, thanks.”

Following Harmony to the velvet-upholstered chairs by the window, I sank into one of them and took a deep breath. I found the aroma of freshly ground coffee and cinnamon oddly comforting, and I suddenly began to cry. It was a combination of nerves, shame, and relief. I knew I’d never shoplift again. I could no longer handle the stress.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Rafael coming back to the table. He noticed that I was crying and glared at Harmony. She glared back and shrugged her shoulders defensively. Then she turned to me and stared for an instant before grabbing a paper napkin to shove it into my face.

“I’m sorry,” I said, blowing my nose loudly. “I won’t ever do it again. I know it’s a dumb excuse, but I didn’t have any money, and I wanted to give Betty a nice birthday present. She’s been … so nice to me.” I bunched the napkin in my fist and then stuffed it into my pocket.

“If it’s a matter of money, can you not practice your craft?” Rafael queried, placing three hot drinks on the small table in front of us.

I frowned. “Craft?”

“Your skills,” Harmony explained with a slight huff at Rafael. She grabbed one of the drinks and dumped several packets of Equal into it before glancing back at me. “Surely, you have marketable skills?”

I watched as Rafael sank into the chair opposite me with graceful ease. He popped the lid of his drink and added two packets of Equal, but he was watching me the entire time. Suddenly, Jung’s comment about Equal sprang to mind. I studied them both, a little distrustfully.