Families Are For Real

Chapter Two

  “Show me the other picture. No, not that one, the one over there. Yeah.” The gallery manager was examining photos taken by security camera of last night's thief. The thief had stolen several very valuable paintings from an art gallery in South Carolina. The thief appeared to be a fifteen year old boy; he had brown hair with a stubborn cowlick, grey eyes, thin cheeks, and a nose that seemed almost round. “Send descriptions of the thief and the missing items to the police,” the manager ordered Margaret, his secretary.

Margaret peered over her glasses at him, “young man,” she said, “surely I raised you better than that!”

“Please,” he muttered.

~

  Sam was mourning the death of his aunt, the only person who ever loved him, when he heard pounding at the door. “Open up, police!”

He went to the door and opened it a crack, “may I help you?” he asked.

“You are under arrest—”

Sam gasped, “What did I do?”

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in the court of law,” the officer intoned while his partner efficiently shoved the door open and grabbed the boy, “because you are so young, we won't cuff you, but you must come along nicely or we will cuff you.”

  The police officers took Sam and went downstairs, out the door, and put him in the police car. Just as they climbed into the car and buckled up, Sam yelled, “I didn't do anything,” and bolted out the door and into the alley. The officers leaped out of their car and followed him on foot. Unfortunately, they hadn't grown up playing in this alley, like Sam had, and Sam quickly outdistanced them.

  The first officer growled, “this is your fault for not cuffing him!”

  The second officer sighed, “I had hoped that wouldn't happen. Now we'll have to send his picture to every other police station around here.”

  The first one glanced at him, “don't give up yet,” he said, “I think this alley comes out on Mulberry Street. We can get there at least as fast as the boy if we can get to the car quickly and don't run into traffic.”

  “Alright then, let's go!” the second officer ordered.

  Meanwhile, Sam ran down the alley as fast as he could. He fancied he could hear footsteps behind him, so he ran all the faster. He burst out of the alley onto Mulberry Street only to see the police car careen up near where Sam came out. He turned and sprinted across the street, hearing the car spin, tires skidding, and follow him. Sam dodged, ran, hid, and ran some more for the next hour until he was sure that he had lost them. He stopped, panting, in a corner, freezing when a police car cruised by. They didn't seem to see him, so he relaxed a bit.

  Sam had spent nearly his whole life with Aunt Matilda, who had adopted him when his parents died when Sam was one. So now that he was on his own, he didn't know what to do. First things first, he thought, I need to go back home and gather my stuff. Sam stood up and looked around carefully; there didn't appear to be anyone watching him, so he started heading towards home. Suddenly he realized that the police would probably be camped out there waiting for him to arrive. Sam squeezed into a little nook between two buildings in the old town area to ponder his situation. I have no food, money, toothbrush, or clothes besides the ones on my back. I could pickpocket, but that would just validate their theory that I'm a thief. Besides, it's wrong. I could slip into our house after midnight and pack a few things into a bag and sneak out again, Aunt always said that when I didn’t want to be seen I wouldn’t. And I can walk really quietly.  Having decided on a course of action, Sam spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening planning his route and what he should grab.