Saturday, March 24, 2007
THE KID
Yesterday when I was shopping I noticed a boy about 12 years old walking the aisles.
He looked tough. Through the mill. Streetwise.
He had a limp and, close up, I could see that he was shivering.
Well, I was shivering too but not that way. It was cold in the store.
It looked like some kind of trauma to me.
What to do?
Then he disappeared.
An aisle or two later, he appeared again. I got the idea that he wanted to be inconspicuous but he was doing a poor job of it.
We were in the soda aisle and he went and took one of the most esoteric designer sodas (cream flavored-four glass bottles in a cute carrier) and went around the aisle corner again.
He was dressed sort of like other kids are. Big big 'satin' shorts and a thin jacket.
He wasn't clean.
I had the idea to ask him if everything was all right but then I could not do it.
I don't think that it was a matter of 'not getting involved'. After all, there wasn't much to get involved in.
I just wanted to ask him.
I told the checker, who I know pretty well, about it.
He said that they come in there all the time.
They.
Kids hiding out, Kids shoplifting. Kids on the loose. Kids.
The store people don't do anything unless there is trouble. In fact, they are told not to do anything as it could be construed as 'an approach'.
I thought about that awhile. Reluctance to act for fear of getting involved in some kind of 'molesting' charge or something.
The checker friend said to leave it alone. He would look out for the kid and see if he was one of the regulars.
I take it from his comments that he would not really do that unless there was 'trouble'.
When I left the store, the kid was just outside the doors and came in the exit door as I went out. Shit. Another opportunity to say something.
It bothered me most of the day.
Should I have said or done something?
Maybe I should have called a cop. In their store? Not likely.
How about social services? Oh man; come on.
What was going on with the kid?
He was the age of my oldest grandson. Like that.
I suppose that it is possible that he was in the store with his affluent mother who was just around the corner and paid for the cream soda and all.
I don't think so.
I was a country kid.
When I moved to the city for college, I remember being astonished to see so many loose kids all over. The veterans called them 'urchins'.
They were all over Cambridge. You ignored them. Dirty, unkempt and delinquent and all in need of attention, love, protection. But they were treated more or less like stray dogs. Keep outta my way!
When we lived in the South End of Boston, we didn't see kids that age. Teenagers on the loose, yes. Not the 12's.
I never see any of that here, I am so sheltered.
When I was a kid, we ran loose all the time. If you behaved and people knew your parents you were pretty much ignored.
If your family had a 'reputation', perhaps lower class, then it was different.
I would like to think that older people looked out for kids then but I am not sure that is the case.
Mr. Vernoy, down the street, made my friend David blow him for almost a year before anyone on the street knew it was on.
There are no 'good old days' in this department.
I thought more about this kid last night and I realized that it was not school time. Almost but not. That is really the time that loose kids get noticed.
I don't know. It has just freaked me out. All my parent stuff has risen to the top.
It bothers me that today older people are afraid to get involved with kids because there is the danger of being seen as messing with them. Or somehow be accused by the kid himself.
Teachers and priests tell me that it is a problem even in their line of work.
That sure is different than the old days.
I don't know.
I just thought I would write about it.
I can't do anything about my lack of action. Or even know if it was appropriate.
I am repeating myself.
