Been Caught Stealing
I was caught stealing once when I was thirteen. It wasn't anything valuable; just a piece of machinery from mechanical works shop. I didn't even want it, really. That persistent voice whispered in my head "take, take, take," so I did. I reached out and it leaped out of the bin, into my hand, then I stuffed it into a pocket. It was one of those venial things kids do for the thrill or in my case, to get attention. And it worked. No less than ten minutes after the shopkeeper seized me roughly by the arm and called my father, he was there. His eyes were wide with concern.
"Sorry about this, Abro," he said. "What can I do to make this all go away?"
I looked over at my father. He was afraid Abro was going to call a constable to arrest me. That I was going to walk out of there in restraints, headed for a juvenile detention facility. I could see those thoughts racing through his mind.
"No harm done," Abro said with a wave of his three hands. "He's only a boy doing dumb things. Just make sure he learns his lesson."
"He's not allowed to come in by himself anymore. Call me if he ever does," my father said sharply. Worry was turning into anger and disappointment. "I promise he'll never cause trouble for you again." With that, he pulled me by the arm out of the shop. As we walked back to my father's speeder, I lowered my head, knowing that if I didn't it would infuriate him even more. His eyes were like steel and his lips were a tight thin line. For a moment tears stung my eyes.
We got in the speeder and as soon as the doors closed, my father spat, "Gods be damned, Ben! What the hell were you thinking?!" He'd never been so angry with me.
He started up the speeder, we lifted off and merged into traffic. I stared listlessly out the viewport. "Answer me, boy!" he demanded with that growl of his. I jumped in my seat.
"I-I don't know," I said, my voice cracking. "I just did it."
"You are so grounded! You're going to school and coming right home for a month!" I wondered who was going to enforce that since between my father's frequent gallivanting around the galaxy and my mother's long workdays, there was no one around to check. "You're damned lucky Abro's a friend! If you stole from a Hutt, your balls would be shipped to the other side of the galaxy! He wouldn't care who you are or that you're just a kid!"
Then he sighed with exasperation and shook his head. "You know your mother has a reputation to protect. You know she has many political enemies. If you'd been arrested and it got out in the holomedia…"
Oh, I was well aware of my mother's image and how important it was to protect not only her reputation but that of my whole kriffing family. "I know, Dad," I said. "I'm sorry."
For a long time nobody said anything. "Listen to me kid," my father said, his tone softening a bit, "if there's anything I wanted for you, it's to not get into trouble like I did. You don't need to do that, Ben."
Go on, Dad, I wanted to say, tell me how imperfect you are, how we all are. Even in that moment, I craved that bit of honesty from him.
"No, I don't," I said instead.
"I tell you what, kid. We won't say a word about this to your mother. But only if you don't do anything stupid like this again. Deal?"
"What about Chewie?" Somehow I feared Chewie finding out more than my mother finding out.
"Okay, we won't tell Chewie either."
I gazed over at my father beside me, looking right into his eyes. "Deal," I nodded.
"You're a good boy and you've got a great future," he said. "I'm going to make sure of it."
But I didn't care about that. What I cared about was that we now had a secret. Looking back, maybe it's not a good thing for husbands and wives to keep things from each other but in that moment what mattered was we had something that bonded us together. Something only the two of us would share. He had no idea how much it had meant to me. I would've stolen an X-Wing for that.
He'll betray you eventually, the voice hissed in my head. My blood turned to ice water. He never keeps his word and you know it.
For once I ignored that voice because I needed this precious secret so badly, this thing that would bind me to a father who often didn't seem to understand his son. It was reassurance that I mattered, that I was loved.
As far as I knew, it stayed our secret forever.