The apple, a spherical fruit, sweet in taste and red in colour. Only an hour ago had I tidied up the produce section. And no. I wouldn't usually care. It's not a simple matter of 'I'm going to have to do it again or get fired by my jackass boss.' I carefully nudge away another box of Lucky Charm cerial, my eyes zeroing in on the boy. I've been told many a time not to scare away the very few customers we even get here. But there was something…odd, about this one.
From my vantage point the first thing I notice about him is his hair; It's bright yellow, almost like custard. Also, its messy, very messy. If I had a comb I'd attack him with it right here and now. The second thing is his body language; he's fidgety, cowering away from every sound that fills the air in the large supermarket. Lastly, is his clothes. He wears a dark green checkered shirt, incorrectly buttoned, and ripped skinny jeans, his feet are covered by a pair of designer black converse with worn out soles.
I watch tentatively as he handles the apple as though it were a bomb. After a good five minutes of poking, squeezing and close inspection-to my own shock-he swirls round, closely examining the aisle for other shoppers or employees. I duck down. The sound of his feet dragging away from my hiding spot urges me to take another look. He walks away from me with the apple in his hand and instead of placing it in the basket along with all the other groceries, he swiftly slides it into his pocket. The kid is stealing.
I feel my heartbeat begin to pick up as the thought of having to approach this kid sinks into my thick skull. I turn to face the cash register at the bottom end of the aisle to find my lazy boss sat reading the latest issue of 'taco man and the robo inferno', blissfully unaware of the unfolding drama. I glance back at the twitchy kid, and then it hits me like a kick in the gut. I hatch a plan to approach him.
I get up off of the cold aisle floor, straighten my green apron and start making my way up to the top of my aisle. The cool air of the fans blow my silky black bangs out of place, I run my hand through my hair to ensure all is in order. I finally reach the top and walk over to the start of the produce section. In the small amount of time I had spent trying to approach him he had moved onto the cantaloupe section. I casually stroll over to him, trying to make myself look as un-threatening as possible.
He notices me, and the colour imidiately begins to drain from his face. He stares at me like I'm a registered sex offender or something with wide green eyes. I smile at the boy, or at least I thought I smiled at him….
"Hello." I say.
"Agh!" He screams, tugging on the collar of his shirt.
"My name's Craig. That's a nice cantaloupe ya got there." I add.
"I-it is?" He asks.
"Yes, why not. You picked the ripest one?"
"W-well, thanks?"
"Oh," I start, "So that's how we're going to play this is it?" I question.
"Play what!?"
"I saw what you did." He furrows his brows and stares at me angrily, I mimic his facial expression and glare back at him. I glance over at my boss to find him still reading the comic, I seize my opportunity. Like a ninja I dart my hands into both of his pockets and rummage around, confusion and panic strikes me as I fail to locate the apple.
"Craig Tucker! What are you doing!" The booming voice of my supervisor fills the silence. I freeze in my place. The sound of the air conditioning and freezers is all to be heard as I stand frozen. There goes my apple. In the midst of it all I take the time to glance over to the cash register, there it lies, the ever faithful comic book-closed.