Changing the Future

Chapter 13

In the midst of all the confusion, I had enough time to run after the boy myself, expertly dodging around other shoppers without too much damage. Although, I don't think the owner of the coffee shop was too happy to see a nineteen-year-old girl dash across empty tables and benches like some kind of parkour junkie.

The boy took a hard left, throwing the door to the Sears open before running in. I ran in after him, careful to slow down before he could see me, giving me the impression of being another shopper perusing Sears' fine collection of lawn mowers.

I found the boy down in the hardware section, breathing heavily as he pushed his damp curls out of his face, still clutching to a plastic bag with the Home Depot logo plastered onto the side. After realizing where he'd decided to hide, he started stashing some more stuff into the plastic bag, grabbing a ton of copper wire and batteries as well as a wrench, a couple rolls of duct and electrical tape, and a handful of magnets.

"Hi," I said, finally revealing myself, causing him to jump so high he almost fell into the shovel display behind him.

"H-Hello," he replied weakly, his fingers white as a sheet from how tightly he was gripping onto his bag. "Who are you?"

"A friend and fellow foster home escapee." His eyes widened in surprise. He took a couple steps back like he was about to bolt, but just then the doors to the Sears burst open and the unmistakable sound of approaching security filled the air. My eyes darted back to his bag, the reason these officers were after him. "Follow my lead," I instructed, receiving a terse nod as his reply.

"There you are, you little punk!" an officer said, having traded in a stun gun for his baton. "You're under arrest for theft!"

"I'm sorry, officer, you must be mistaken," I said, taking the boy's hand into my own. "My little brother's been with me the whole time."

Above the officer's head, I saw a warm yellow glow, letting me know that my persuasion was working on him. But it was still pretty dim, meaning I had a ways to go.

"Oh, has he? Can I see a receipt for your purchase, then?"

"Of course." I reached into my bag and pulled out a blank receipt, manipulating the Mist to match the receipt to what was in the plastic bag. The officer snatched it out of my hand, scrutinizing it, before begrudgingly handing me the "receipt" in return. "Is something wrong?"

"My apologies, Miss." He picked up his radio from his belt, telling the others that this wasn't the right kid and that the thief was still on the loose. "Now both y'all have a good day and don't get into any trouble."

"We wouldn't dream of it," I said sweetly, flashing my kindest smile at the officer, dropping it the moment he turned his back on us. Even if that hadn't worked out in my favor, I would've gotten this kid out of this situation. Speaking of which, I finally let go of his hand, watching as he wiped it off on his tattered shirt, probably thinking I had cooties.

"Okay, who are you really?" the boy questioned, tying the bag to his wrist. "And how do you know about my...situation?"

"I read about you in the local newspaper," I replied with a shrug, motioning him to follow me to the clothing section of the store. "And since I know what it's like to be running from a foster home, I figured I could try to help."

The boy looked at me warily but seemed to trust me enough when I told him to pick out any outfit he wanted. He seemed even more confused when I told him he could pick out some new shoes as well as offering to pay for his added equipment, so that way we didn't run into the cops again.

He was a simple shopper, picking out a white long sleeved shirt, khaki cargo pants that had countless pockets, light brown suspenders, an army jacket, and brown boots that could definitely survive the rough terrain of the desert without falling apart at the seams.