On The Edge
Life had gone from bad to worse. Two years ago, his wife had contracted a virus that had left her fatigued and unable to manage the smallest activity. When she didn't start to get better at the expected time, doctors investigated and found she had a rare form of cancer. Inoperable. The word still made him want to cry. And then just like that she was gone.
He was filled with an overflowing sense of loss. But he didn't have time for tears. He had two children to care for and a job to hold down.
For his children, he had to become a double parent. He cooked and cleaned, did the washing and sandwiches in the evening, unable to face doing so early in the morning before he left for his shift. He was forced to entrust his oldest child to hang out the washing and make sure the sandwiches and a piece of fruit were placed in each bag before they set off for school. They were muddling through somehow and he felt they might make it.
And then last week, without warning, he'd been laid off. The timing was disastrous. Life had been difficult enough. Now they were on the edge of ruin. He had no parents, no brothers or sisters to help out. He was the only thing that stood between his children and the largely dark world that wanted to devour them.
Today, they had run out of food and he had no cash left. What could he do? He had the promise of a cash in hand job tomorrow but how was he going to feed his children today?
Franklin swallowed hard, devastated that his family had fallen so low. He knew there was nothing for it but to take what he needed to survive. He had to get some food and it looked like he would have to steal it.
He knew he would have to conceal whatever he took. The only item of clothing he could think of that would work was his long overcoat. He slipped it on, feeling the heavy weight of both the thick material (unsuitable for the warm weather) and the knowledge of what he was about to do.
His heart pounded as he crossed the parking lot and entered the store. As quickly as he could, he made his way around the shelves choosing only the essential items he needed that could be easily concealed: just enough to get through the next two days. But he'd been spotted. His heart sank as he heard the shouts and then the police siren. What had he done? What would happen to his children now?
But...
The two detectives weren't like any police officers he'd come across before. For a start, they were wearing fancy dress costumes! Later, as they drove him into the station, they explained why they looked like Laurel and Hardy. They also asked him if he had family or neighbours who could look after his children for a while. The only person he trusted was old Mrs Pruitt - she babysat sometimes - but she couldn't look after them overnight or for more than a day. Franklin felt tears welling up in his eyes and looked away. A handkerchief appeared in his handcuffed hands and he dabbed at his runny nose. They asked him what had happened to his wife and he told them quietly, trying not to let the tears flow. He told them about losing his job, losing his hope, his fear that now he would lose his children.
When he looked up, the two officers were glancing at each other. A silent conversation seemed to be going on punctuated by the odd word that meant nothing to him.
"Harry Stears?"
"No...Rudy Dawson?"
"Yes."
The police officer, who was driving, turned the car to the right. Franklin wondered where they were going. He soon found out. They parked in front of a ratty looking bailbonds office. The blond detective, Hutchinson he said his name was, went in while the dark-haired detective, Starsky, stayed and kept an eye on him. Not that he planned on going anywhere. He wasn't going to make things any worse by trying to escape.
Hutchinson returned.
"Well?" Starsky asked.
"He says 'yes' and he'll meet us at the station."
"Great."
As Detective Starsky started the engine, Hutchinson turned to Franklin and said, "Rudy Dawson is a bailbondsman we trust. He's going to meet us at the station and get the process started for arranging bail for you. Hopefully, you might be out by the end of the day. We'll go check on your children-"
"-Get them something to eat," Starsky interrupted.
"Yeah, get them something to eat and we'll get Mrs Pruitt to watch them." He looked at his partner. "Of course, if there's a hold up or the judge..."
"It'll work out, Hutch."
Hutchinson exchanged looks with his partner and then nodded. Franklin didn't know what to say. He just sat there silently until they were almost at the Police precinct.
Suddenly, he found his voice: "Thank you. I don't know how to thank you."
As Hutchinson helped him out of the car, he said, "Just be polite to the judge and, if you make bail, keep your nose clean and..." He looked at Starsky, who nodded, "and we'll try to put in a good word about extenuating circumstances."
"Thank you."
As we headed into the building, Franklin felt a glimmer of hope. He was still wearing handcuffs, he was facing charges, but there was hope that with the help these two men were offering, he might not lose his children. Maybe he was on the edge of a new, better chapter in life. He sure hoped so.