April 7, 2017
A passerby claimed a woman hit a child in the face while the family was sitting in a gray Chrysler minivan. The person who reported the incident didn't stick around long enough for me to interview her to make a decision. She called dispatch, reported what she saw, and then fled the area, not bothering to stick around. How typical.
I rolled up in my marked patrol car, stopping just before the minivan, which was parked near the front doors of a major business. It's funny how we received no other calls on this incident, considering where the car was parked and the number of people coming and going from the main entrance.
The family was standing alongside. One older woman and four kids waiting outside. The grandmother explained that she was left outside to watch the kids while their father was inside trying to negotiate a car. The family didn't appear to have much money based on their appearance (I know who I should prejudge). The car windows were down, the slider doors were opened, and the car's motor was turned off; thus, the air conditioner was off. They were conserving their gas because they had a long drive home and conserving what little they had.
The day was unseasonably hot, even by Florida standards. The sweat beaded up on the kids' heads. It slid down their pale white freckled skin, rolled over their cheeks, and stopped right below their chin, where the drop hung aimlessly until another drip of water slid down and forced it to fall somewhere on their shirt. The water accumulated enough that their shirts had been soaked with their sweat.
The youngest boy had autism. His middle brother controlled him the best he could, but the little boy was aggressive and took some physical abuse from his little brother while he tried to control him.
The older sister was just a few years older but was wise for her age 12.
She was well-dressed, freckled, and bucktoothed. She talked to me like an adult but was shy, showing her innocent age. My 6 foot 2 inches, 250-pound frame stood over her, but just because this cop was standing over her didn't prevent her from looking me in the eye and explaining what was happening. She told me all about the struggle they had with their brother, who had autism. She said her family does their best, but life can be challenging. She humbled me down to her 4 foot 6 level.
"Give me 5, little man," I told her little brother.
He put his hand out, and I slapped it, "now go away!" he said.
I stood there momentarily and thought about my 2 sons' Nico and Christopher. It is so easy for me to place myself in their shoes when I envision my kids in those kids' eyes. After my investigation, I found no abuse here.
"Grandma," I said. "How long have you been out here?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe an hour. I'm ready to go home," she said.
She stood before me. Her age showed clearly, and she was tired, hot, and hungry.
"Can I buy you all Burger King?" I asked.
"Burger King!" The kids shouted. They began telling me what they wanted. I didn't have a notepad, but I remembered everything they wanted.
Their Burger King order was my new mantra for the next 5 minutes while I drove down the street to the restaurant.
"Hi, welcome to Burger King. May I have your order?"
"Yes," I almost sang out, "I need....an original chicken sandwich with light mayo, onion rings instead of fries, and a Coke. Then I need a Whopper with no tomato, large fries with a Coke, or a Dr. Pepper. Then I will need 2 plain hamburgers with cheese, a large fry, and a Sprite. And a diet Coke."
When I got back to the store, I handed out their orders. The little girl took the bags. She sat her brothers down and set up their food one by one. All was good in their world. Even if it was just for the moment.
I looked at them in my review mirror as I drove to another call. The kids never looked back, and they never realized I was gone, but I knew they existed, and I was grateful for that.
The next day, I had my boys with me. They just finished swimming practice. They are learning what competition swimming is like. I was grateful to provide that to them.
"Let's eat!" I shouted.
"Yes, I'm hungry, dad," Christopher said.
"I vote for Chilis!" I said while I drove from the parking lot onto the main road.
"Chili's, again, dad?" Nico said.
I sat there for a moment at the red light. The thoughts of the little kids at the store ran through my mind. I thought of the little boy with autism slipping in and out of the minivan and onto the sidewalk by the entrance of the store. While his older brother tried to control him, his sister attempted to keep them organized.
A horn honked.
The driver behind me honked the car horn, waking me from my daydream. I wanted to humble my kids. They are good boys. Born into a situation they didn't ask for, I was happy that I had the means to provide them a good life.
"Okay, no Chili's again. Let's go home and eat something there. Are you good with that?"
"Okay, daddy. Let's go home," Christopher said.
"You want to go home too, Nico?"
He nods his head, indicating yes.
"Dad," Nico said.
Yes?
"I'd be happy with McDonald's."
Sure, no Chilis again. Let's get a burger.
951 words
