He watched the group of tearaways move stealthily along the supermarket aisles. The retired policeman in him was sorely tempted to act. It was not hard for an experienced eye to spot their pilfering. Perhaps a creative outlet was needed for these kids. Surely some community program would be out there? Maybe he should become a veteran mentor in a military camp for troubled young people. Start a branch in his area. He was lost in thought as he walked home – his third trip of the day to the local shops.
* * *
She’d assessed him as she waited in the queue. Top of the range Nike runners. Presentable polo shirt and jeans. Why would he buy one orange, one banana, an onion and a pack of peas? Was he broke and trying hard not to show it? He’d drawn some cash at the checkout, but she could not see how much. She continued to watch until he exited. She caught up to him further along the street as she wheeled her frayed and faded shopping cart.
‘Excuse me sir, I noticed the items you bought. I have a full bag of oranges, onions and bananas; my cart is heavy… I can easily offload half to you.’
He turned to the elderly woman, whose startling black hair was pulled tightly into a bun. She appeared fatigued, leaning slightly forward.
‘That’s a kind thought. I appreciate it!’
She noticed his smile of perfect, white teeth. Costly dental work?
‘Fact is, I deliberately walk to Woolies at least three times a day to keep vaguely fit. I buy the minimum. Three walks a day helps with the 10,000 steps tally,’ he grinned. ‘Do you always walk? That cart looks too full and heavy.’
‘Yes, I do; it’s exhausting. I try to buy a week’s supply in one hit.’
He’d stopped at a groomed garden. She was aware of compassion in his eyes.
‘I turn in here. Can I help you push that cart to wherever you go?’ he asked.
‘Oh, no thanks; I don’t have far; I’ll be fine.’
‘At least I can offer you a cup of tea? Water?’
She appeared hot and somewhat trembly.
He sensed her discomfort, and something more – agitation? Perhaps he was embarrassing her.
‘At least let me arrange your shopping so you don’t lose anything,’ he offered.
He leaned forward as she stood next to him, balancing the cart. He deftly rearranged the items until the cart’s cover closed easily.
‘I do appreciate your help… I really must move along now!’ she said.
He smiled as she walked on, moving at surprising speed.
She smiled too. Those notes he’d withdrawn at the supermarket had been a breeze to extract from his pocket as he’d performed his good Samaritan act.
She boarded the first bus that approached. What a relief to reach the back seat and remove her wig.
Burnside Writers Group 