Rolls his eyes. A can?! "Are you hun...gry?" Alone in the kitchen. Thought he followed. Oh well. Opens the refrigerator. Start taking out food. Then he stands there, leaning against the door frame. "Hungry?" A brief nod. "Get plates and glasses." Once the boy has set out plates, he sits down. He looks up. "Are you mad?" The man is a bit puzzled. "Angry?" "Yeah, at me?" "Because of the can? No." "Why?" He sits down next to the boy. "It is clear that it is wrong to take things, shoplifting. It is not ok. But this is a small thing. Most people have tried to take something small. Because they have not been able to afford it. Or for the thrill. But you've still got it. It is not open. You can return it." "I don't dare!" "Yes you can." "Will you come?" "Of course. That's part of what a kids old man is for." A wry smile. "For real?" "For real! Let's eat, ok?"
Chews slowly. A glance at the can. Swallowing. "Do you think…? Do you think he will get angry?" "Who?" "In the store." "Well, maybe." "Will he call the police?" "No, I do not think so. Is it the store at the corner? You know, I think he wants to hear that you are sorry. But no police. Not for a can. It's just the can, right?" Nods eagerly. "Only... It." Quick glance toward the can. "How about we finish eating and then we go to the store tonight already. Then I can call Alfred after that." "About the can? Does he need to know?" "What? No, not the can, we can fix that. I have to talk to him about that other stuff." Thinking. How will he get hold of Alfred? Do not know when he will be at the next port. Sometimes you get a hold of him directly, but usually not.
"I'm finished." the kid takes his plate away and disappears into the hallway. Might as well get it done. The man clears the table and retrieves the can. Then he goes out into the hall. "Huh, are you sitting here?" The boy is fully dressed and ready to go. His eyes are shiny and he swallows hard. The only answer is a nod. Down the stairs, out on the street. They walk in silence. But outside the shop the kid stops completely. The man opens the door and hands over the can. "Come on, let's get it over." They enter the small shop and approach the man at the counter. "Good Evening. How may I help you tonight?" "Hey. No, nothing really. He has something to return." The kid mumbles something inaudible. "What?" "Sorry, I took it, don't want it, sorry." "Eh, what did you say?" "I want to return it." "Ok. Do you have a receipt, you'll get your money back. Otherwise, you can't, understand?" "No, I took it. I'm sorry." His voice trembles. He looks noticeably pale. "Did you grab it? Are you a thief? Are you going to take more stuff?" "No, I ... did not…" "Do you know what happens to shoplifters?" The big guy decides it's time to interfere in the conversation. "He has apologized and handed it back." "It's not possible! Steal stuff like that." Bruce begins to wonder if this was the best way to solve the whole thing. The kid looks like he has shrunk, seems to want to disappear completely. Really pale. By now he is a little worried about him. "You have to pay for it here and now! Shoplifters are not welcome!" The man pays and gets the can back in a bag with the receipt. "Come on!" He puts his arm on the boy's shoulders and turn him towards the door. The kid utterly storms out. The cashier is yelling now. "Just run boy! Don't come back here. I keep an eye on you and your little friends!"
Bruce follows the kid outside. By the door is an trashcan. He places the bag with contents there. Looks around for the boy. He is not visible until he rounds the corner. Their he stands leaning against the wall with one hand on the bricks. "You okay?" "Felt sick… it has passed now." Bruce puts a hand on his shoulder. "What you just did was very brave!" "Scary". "Well you did it. You stood for what you had done. It was brave. Let's go home, okay?"
While they are walking, he throws a glance at the kid. The color is back in his face. Considering that nothing will probably be pilfered again in a long time. The kid runs up the stairs and disappears into the bathroom. The man walks in slowly and settles down in front of the TV.
He sits on the couch and listen towards the hall with half an ear. Wonder how the guy feels. Perhaps there is a risk that he faints? He has seldom seen him so pale as in the the store. He hears the water tap turn on, which probably means that all is all ok.
He should call Alfred. When he gets back up the toilet door opens. He dials the number. Of course it's the answering machine. He is not telling the reason he's calling. Just asks Alfred to call back. When he hangs up and turns around he becomes a little surprised that the sofa is empty. Thought the kid had sat down at the TV. Peeking out of the hallway he sees that the bedside lamp is on. The boy lies in his bed. "Are you okay?" No answer. The kid is asleep, fully clothed. He retrieves the blanket and puts it over him. Then he switches of the lamp.
He returns to the sofa. The next time he throws a glance at the clock, he notes that Alfred is not going to call later. Might as well get some work done and then go to bed.