THE TWO-WAY HOLIDAY GIFT

A Story by Willys Watson

Henry Hawkins, a Psychologist working for local law enforcement, and just three weeks from retiring, pulled into the parking lot of a local convenience store and stopped his truck at the front of the store’s sidewalk. As he was stepping out of his truck he noticed through the plate glass window a tall, thin man wearing a mask and holding a switchblade knife upwards at the clerk behind the counter. Before entering the store, because he wanted to observe the two of them Henry stepped back into the driver’s side of his truck to wait to see if the clerk was really in danger. And he knew, from personal experience, that if he rushed into the store now the robber could panic, cut the clerk or try to hold him hostage. As long as the robber stayed on his side of the counter it was likely the clerk wouldn’t be hurt and Henry’s hunch as right. The clerk opened both cash registers and filled a bag with both coins and paper money as the robber demanded, then the robber fled the store.

As the robber turned and ran towards the alley behind the Henry jumped out of his truck and started running towards the thief.

“You’re not going anywhere, dude,” Henry shouted at him.

The thief, not planning his escape route wisely, found himself boxed it by three six foot tall chain-link fences, where his only chance to escape was to climb over the fence into the alley behind the store. Having caught up with him trying to climb the fence while clutching the bag of money, Henry grabbed him by his leg and pulled him to the ground, kicking the robber hard enough in his lower abdomen to discourage any attempts to rise up and the pain caused the robber to try to curl into a human ball to prevent any more damage to his body.

“Please don’t hurt me! Please don’t kill me,” the thief pleaded without looking up at Henry.

“I won’t kill you and I might even let you escape with the stolen money if you’ll sit long enough for me to talk to you and ask a few questions,” Henry tried to reassure him.

“You won’t try to kill me?”

“If you stay seated long enough for me to ask a few questions,” Henry told him. “Besides, I’m now even carrying a revolver now.”

“And what’s to stop me from just getting up and running away?”

“My Special Forces training while I was in the military. I could easily break your bones or jam your nose up into your brain,” Henry warned him by simply telling the truth. “So, are you willing to have a few bones broken or are you willing to sit and listen as I ask a few question? I don’t know about you, dude, but personally I’m not too keen on walking through life with a limp or spending time in prison for armed robbery. So, are you willing to sit up while I talk to you?”

“And then you’ll let me go?”

“Of course, but we’ll have to act quickly because I’m sure that clerk has alr4eady called the cops and when they get here they’ll search for the crook’s escape route.’

“Yes, but what about the ... ?

“The bag of money is already tucked away inside my coat and your knife is in my coat pocket, in case you’re wondering,” Henry told him, then instructed him, “Quickly, pull off your sweater and sat on it with the mask under it, then you lean against the fence and act as innocent as you can.”

While the thief did as he was told Henry sat on the asphalt directly across from him.

“The first question is why did you rob that store with all those security cameras it has?”

“Why? Why? I’ve got a ... a wife and little girl and ... and we’re expecting another one and ... I lost my job and ... and can’t seem to find another one because of this god damn pandemic and ... and we’ve got an eviction notice taped to our front door. And ... we have so little money, barely enough for food and none for a tree or even gifts even if we had a tree. That’s why!”

“Okay, I can understand your current reason and I’m gone through some pretty rough times myself and so has my wife early in our marriage and if you’ll let me I’ll get you enough money to hold you over and I’m pretty sure I can get you a job. But I’m returning the stolen money and telling them I screamed at the crook and he panicked and dropped it. Anyway, I’ve already figured out a back story for us and you’ll have to feed off my cues. Okay?” When the thief nodded yes, Henry continued, “You’re my future son-in-law and we’ve been having a discussion, heated at times, about you marrying my daughter and your prospects of supporting her. I just hope your acting is far better than your one-time crime spree.”

“I would hope so because I’ve had plenty of practice coming up with impromptu stories for my little girl because she got tired on the ones she’s already heard.”

After interviewing the clerk two police officers rounded to corner of the store and saw Henry and the young man sitting on the asphalt.

“Doctor Hawkins, what a surprise! You’ve already captured the suspect!” Sergeant Johnson exclaimed.

“Who, this skinny little dude?” Henry responded as he stood up to face her. “No, but he seems to have captured my daughter’s heart. This is Jack and we’ve been having a discussion about what I expect from my future son-in-law.”

“You didn’t know the store was robbed?” wondered Officer Garza.

“We heard some sirens, but let’s just say our conversation was getting a bit too intense. And I’m sure you’ll go through something like this, Angie, when your Julie get older.”

“As hardheaded as she is I’m sure that will happen,” Officer Johnson laughed.

“I guess because you’re no longer Detective Hawkins you’ve lost your paying attention edge, huh? Officer Garza taunted him.

“You guys don’t need me anyway. I’m sure that store has inside cameras and whoever the clerk is can ID him.”

“Ha! The camera system is down because the DVR went down and it hasn’t been replaced yet and the clerk was too nervous to notice much.” Officer Garza stated as he shook his old friend’s hand. “We could have used your help.”

“Leave him along, Joey. That old fart can still kick your a*s,” Angie jokingly scolded Joey. “Let’s climb back into our unit, cruse the neighborhood and maybe we’ll get lucky and see the suspect or find a witness, then patted Henry on the shoulder and told him, “And tell Martha I said hello.”

After their patrol car was out of sight the young man jumped to his feet and screamed at Henry.

“You’re a cop? A cop! And you pulled this bullshit on me to keep me here?”

“I was a cop years ago and made Detective, but now I’m just a Psychologist who works with first time offenders and tries to help them go straight if they’ll let me,” he explained to the young man as he showed him his credentials. “So, if you’re smart enough we’ll calm down, sit back down and see how I can help you. And if you’ve got questions just ask, okay?”

“I’ve got a question you need to answer first before I start to believe anything you say,” the young man insisted. After Henry nodded yes he continued, “You’re a Doctor? A Psychologist? You must make a dam good living doing what you do, so what’s with all the tough times stuff you claim you and your wife went through?”

“Fair enough question. I was born and raised on a small farm outside a small town, the type of town where it wasn’t safe for a young black man like me to be on the street after dark. In the old days I might have been hung from a tree. During my time living there I was more likely to be beaten and arrested on a some phony charge and thrown in jail and my folk hardly had enough money to go around, must less post my bail to get me out? And I’m sure you’ve read or heard about places like that? Right?”

“Was you wife from the same town?”

“No, but she grew up in one much like that. And both of us have been called just about every ethnic slur you could call a black person. Anyway, we met in college, fell in love, and decided, when the time was right to children, we didn’t want to raise our kids in such an environment.”

“But you still managed to get your PhD.”

“That part was rough, too. We moved to LA and my wife worked her precious a*s off the help me get my degree in Criminal Science. The help I received from the G.I. Bill towards my education simply wasn't enough, but we got by anyway. Once I landed a lob with law enforce I helped her get her teaching degree and she worked as a teacher to help me get my PhD and that part wasn’t easy because by then she was pregnant with our daughter.”

“Okay, all you’ve through I certainly understand from what I’ve read and seen in those Civil Rights documentaries. But, listen, Doctor, I know I’ve got my own problems, but I’ve still got my pride and I’m not looking for a handout,” the young man told Henry sincerely.

“I’ll lend, as in lend, you enough money to get by on until you get a good job. And you’ll pay me back when, as in when, you can. Now, let’s talk about you skill levels so I can help you find a decent job. But first stretch out both your arms and turn them slowly, then hold out your hands palm up and keep them steady,”

“Sure, but ...” He started to say but did as instructed.

“No needle marks and your steady hands suggest you’re not likely an alcoholic. With those hands as steady as they are you could be an artist or a surgeon, but the calluses certainly suggest you’re not an MD. So, let’s go right to your skill levels now, but first tell me your name, your real name, and don’t worry because I’m hardly going to turn you in,” Henry reassured him again.

“It’s ... uh ... it’s Keith Summers.”

“And now you skill levels.”

“I worked on the docks when I first moved here from Texas and the pay wasn’t bad, but then with those tariff was and all the jobs lost because of the pandemic and because I didn’t have my Union Card yet I was one of the first to be let on.”

“I’m sorry that happened and I honestly can’t help you with that. So what did you do in Texas before you moved out here?” Henry asked hopefully.

“Before, back in Texas, I loaded trucks at a grocery chain warehouse. I ... I just ... though the management there was a little too racist for me. It was more in what they implied about the ethnic workers. So I took my savings and moved out here.”

“And before that?”

“My foster father worked in construction and when I turned fifteen I started working with him at his job sites and began to learn just about everything needed to know about building new homes and doing remodeling. I even started doing copper plumbing and electrical wiring and, though I never had a state license to do either, I got good enough at it that it always passed inspection.”

“I can help you with this kind of work, but I could lend you and your young family enough money to move back to Texas to work for him.”

“Oh, dear God, I wish I could but my foster folks, Rex and Alice Summers, died in a car crash years back,” Keith explained while trying to control the pain. “I never knew my real parents and was placed in one foster home after another until my real loving foster parents, Rex and Alice Summers, took me in a thirteen and gave me my first real taste of a secure family home.”

“Keith, you’ve certainly had it rough and you have every moral right to be bitter about it all. I think you’re remarkable in that you haven’t turned to drugs or crime or both.”

“Give my wife, Maria, a lot of credit for that.”

“I certainly will when I meet her, but until then I know two contractors who would certainly hire you based on your experience and I’m willing to bet, once you learn the local codes, you can make something like twenty an hour for plumbing and a little more for wiring. And my name is Henry. Henry Hawkins. But don’t call me Doc or Doctor, please.”

“Mr. Hawkins, I ... uh ... I thank you so much and ... I ... just don’t ... just don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“You already have, Keith, and you will continue to do so once you’ve started work and got back on your feet. And you’ll thank me even more when you, your wife, your daughter and the newborn have reached your own security.”

“I ... uh ... I ... “

“Gifts are like two way streets. We receive in accepting and in giving. Understand?” Henry quizzed Keith and he nodded his head, but still seemed puzzled. “When I lived in that little town and was studying at the library late and started walking home in the dark three local punks cornered me and I figured I was about to get my a*s kicked until a white guy, a stranger to me, came into the alley, punched out two of the punks and chased all three down the alley, then he returned to me and reminded me there were always a lot of good people in the world, but they seldom get enough attention while the bad usually do. Then he turned and walked quickly away before I could thank him and I never knew his name or even it he lived in my town or was passing though.”

“Wow!” Did he know he was giving you help and hope?”

“I’m not even sure if he considered that. I think he was just naturally doing the right thing. We receive by giving and by receiving.”

Keith rose to his feet and Henry followed and then Keith gave him the type of hug reserved for a father figure.

Henry offered to give him a ride home, but first returned the bag of money to then store clerk, telling him he screamed at the robber and he dropped the money while climbing over the fence, then Henry drove to an ATM machine at his bank before taking Keith home.

© 2021 Willys Watson

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Donna

I really liked this story! So many people are in jail for the same reason. They are not criminals, they just need help. Most don't know what it's like to have a family that you can't support. It makes one desperate. Parents would do anything for there family, kids. It doesn't mean they are bad people or criminals. I know back in the day when I first broke the law, if Henry was there to help me like he helped Keith, my life would of turned out better! Great story!