Chapter 1 continued . . .
Oliver awoke the next morning to the feel of a rough hand on his small shoulder. "Rise and shine, punk," he heard Dodger say and, with the apprehensive obedience of a child awaiting a scolding, he rose.
But no scolding came. As if the events of last night had been but a mere dream (had it?), the blond haired Dodger helped Oliver up and handed him a biscuit. "Here," he said, "eat this. You'll need your energy for today, just in case you get caught."
"What do I do if I get caught?"
"What do you think? You run, and don't look for me to help either. Remember, everyone's on their own out here; that's the ways of the street. Now come on, we've got to get going." He twisted around and led Oliver out of the sewers and into the small market, which, despite the early time, was already bustling with energy.
"This is the perfect time for a beginner like you to pickpocket," Dodger began as they intermingled with the many shoppers, "most of the people shopping are moms with one too many kids to look after; they make easy targets. Watch." He sauntered over to a young woman with a little baby girl in one hand and a boy looking to be no older than Oliver in the other. The young mother seemed to examine some magazines for a minute, and then she made her way over to the vendor to purchase one. Just as she set her purse down and turned to her magazine, Dodger snaked by and stole it. He smirked as he tossed the purse to Oliver. "Easy as pie, now you try."
Suddenly, the young woman let out a shrill cry. "Someone stole my purse, oh my god, someone stole my purse!"
Oliver started to run, but was caught by Dodger. "Guess I should tell you rule number three now, since you're about to figure it out for yourself." He had a twisted look in his eyes as he articulated each word slowly. "Don't trust anyone." He yanked Oliver's hand and the purse into the air and waved it around. "Is this your purse ma'am? This punk almost ran into me in his mad rush to escape."
Oliver's eyes grew wide as realization hit him like a swarm of rats and he struggled to escape Dodger, and finally did, only to run straight into a policeman. He barely even noticed as the policeman grabbed him and began to tell him about the prison in store for him; all Oliver's attention was on Dodger, who was being rewarded for his valiant efforts. 'Boys don't cry' he heard his mom say, but try as he might, Oliver couldn't stop a tear from leaking out.
TBC . . .