Officer Ryan's Quality

    

His moustache twitched in anticipation.  His mouth was wide open to embrace the juicy, red apple in his hand.  But of course he was enjoying the moment too much, so something just had to interrupt him.  In this case it was yelling coming from behind him.

           "Stop that boy!"
           He rolled his eyes and sighed.  It never fails, he thought as he turned around to see a loaf of bread arc through the air and land, splat, into a mud puddle.
           A few feet from the puddle lay a boy curled up in a ball holding his shin.  Standing over the boy was a man, in a suit and top hat, holding a cane (with which he had apparently tripped the boy).
           Another thief, he moaned in his head, this is beginning to grow tiresome.  He stepped over to where the boy lay.
          "What's going on here?" he asked.
          A man in an apron moved out from behind his booth and spoke.  "This boy snatched that loaf of bread from my booth, Officer Ryan," he gestured towards the puddle.  "Thankfully this fine gentleman was here to stop his escape.
         "Quite so," said Officer Ryan.
         "There are times when a cane comes to more use than just a walking stick," the man in the suit said.  "Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to and must be on my way."  The man tipped his hat and walked away.
         "On your feet boy," said Officer Ryan, lifting the boy by his thin arm.  "What is your name?"
         "Harry, sir," said the boy, staring at his feet.
         "Well, Harry, why did you steal the bread?"
          Harry looked up at Officer Ryan.  What Officer Ryan saw were sunken cheeks; skin tight against bone.  The boy was clearly starving.  But the eyes were the worst.  Eyes filled with fear and pleading.
         "My little brother and sister are starving, sir," said Harry.  "That's why I stole the bread."
         "Even if that is true, you still stole the bread and ruined the loaf, too," piped in the baker.  "Lock him up, Officer.  That'll teach him not to steal."
         Officer Ryan looked down at the boy.  He could see Harry was terrified of him.  He turned and glared at the baker.
         "Who is the officer of the law here?" asked Officer Ryan.
         The baker blushed, but stayed silent.
         "I shall decide the boy's punishment, not you."  Officer Ryan gripped the boy's arm so he couldn't escape and started forward.
         "Wait," called the baker.
         Officer Ryan came to a halt and peered over his shoulder.
         "Someone has to pay for that loaf of bread," said the baker, pointing at the puddle.
         Officer Ryan closed the distance to the baker and slapped the few coins for the bread into his outstretched palm.  He then turned and walked away--the boy Harry beside him.
                                     ---------------------------------------------
         Bread.  What a big loaf of bread.  Mary and Thomas would like that.  They haven't eaten in two days, thought Harry.  The baker isn't looking.  Now's my chance.
         Harry reached and grasped the bread.  But luck wasn't on his side today.  The baker had reached for the same loaf and found nothing.  The baker turned about in an instant.  He saw Harry.  His face turned red.  His eyes seemed to pop out of his head as they turned into a fiery furnace of rage.  Harry didn't wait a moment longer, but took off running faster than he ever had before.
         "Stop that boy!" he heard the baker yell.
         Twenty more feet and he would reach the alley where he could easily lose anyone that tried to follow him.  Then he was falling.  The bread left his hands.  He hit the ground.  All breath escaped him.  He gasped for air.  A voice above him spoke, but he couldn't understand what it said.  Finally, his lungs began accepting air.  Beautiful air.  Then the pain in his shin began.  A pulsing, throbbing pain.  He lay on the ground for what seemed like a long time and then a voice spoke to him.
         "On your feet, boy," Harry heard the voice say, as a hand gripped his arm and pulled him to his feet.  "What's your name?"
         "Harry," said Harry looking at his feet.
         "Well, Harry, why did you steal the bread?"
         Harry looked up at the man in front of him.  The man was a police officer.  He wore the regular hat and uniform and carried a baton, now attached to his belt.  The officer had a large bushy moustache perched upon his upper lip.
         As Harry looked into the officer's face, he saw his hard expression soften slightly.
         "My little brother and sister are starving, sir," said Harry.  "That's why I stole the bread."
         "Even if that's true," the baker was speaking now, "you still stole the bread and ruined the loaf, too.  Lock him up, Officer.  That'll teach him not to steal."
         The officer looked at Harry then turned and glared at the baker.  "Who is the officer of the law here?" he asked.
         The baker blushed, but stayed silent.
         "I shall decide the boy's punishment, not you."
         Harry was intimidated, but couldn't help but feel some satisfaction at the baker's sour expression.
         "Come along, Harry" said the officer.  He took Harry's arm and they began walking away.
         "Wait," called the baker.
         The officer came to a halt and peered over his shoulder.
         "Someone has to pay for that ruined loaf," said the baker, pointing at the puddle.
         The officer closed the distance to the baker and slapped the few coins for the bread into his outstretched palm.  He then turned and walked away--the boy Harry beside him.
         Harry worried about his punishment on the way out of the market and all the way to the guardhouse.  He wondered whether he would have to repay the officer for the bread.
         Once at the guardhouse, the officer led Harry inside and sat him on a stool.  The officer placed himself on a chair opposite Harry.
         "I don't know if you heard my name, but I'm Officer Ryan. How old are you and your siblings?"
         "I'm nine," said Harry.  "My sister Mary is seven and my brother Thomas is five."
         "Where are your parents?"
         Harry shrugged and found a sudden interest in his fingernails.
         "Are you hungry, Harry?" asked Officer Ryan.
         Harry looked up eagerly, with hungry eyes.  Officer Ryan pulled from his pocket the most beautiful, juicy apple Harry had ever seen.  Officer Ryan tossed the apple to Harry.  Harry stared for a moment at Officer Ryan who smiled and nodded.
         Harry opened his mouth as wide as he could and chomped down on the apple, which gave off a satisfying crunch.  His eyes shot wide open.
         "Is it really that good?" laughed Officer Ryan.
         Harry nodded vigorously.  For a couple of minutes there was only the sound of crunching apple as Harry devoured the red fruit.  Once he was finished, Officer Ryan spoke again.
         "Now Harry, you know that stealing is wrong."
         Ashamed, Harry avoided Officer Ryan's gaze.
         "If you're hungry don't steal, just come to me and I'll get you some food.
         Harry's eyes filled with tears.  "Really?" he asked.
         "Really.  Can I trust you not to steal?"
         "Yes, sir, Officer Ryan, sir!" exclaimed Harry.
         "Good.  Now take this."  Officer Ryan handed Harry a bag.  Harry looked inside and saw bread, cheese, and meat.
         "To share with your siblings," Officer Ryan explained.  "You are free to go."
         "Oh thank you, Officer Ryan.  Thank you!" said Harry now crying openly.