Chase raced down the hall, darting between shoppers. The security guard running after him was persistent. He was going to return the game after he cleared it, so it's not like the store was going to lose anything.
He sharply bent a corner and slipped into a hidden pocket in the wall. The mall had several of these little spaces. Chase had spent the last two weeks learning about these hidden crevices as he made the mall his home.
He adjusted his skateboard in his backpack and moved the game to one of the other pockets. Sneaking out of his hiding space, he came face-to-face with the security guard. Chase turned around to run again but bumped into a woman who now had a firm grip on his arm.
He didn't recognise her and had no idea why she held on to him. He fought to break free of her grip, but to no avail.
When the guard caught up to them, he immediately tried to grab Chase. But the woman pushed him away and demanded to know why he was chasing her son.
"This brat just robbed the Coliseum."
The woman turned to Chase, and in a stern, motherly tone, she inquired, "Didn't your father give you spending money?"
"It wasn't enough." He answered meekly. He still had no idea who the woman was or what she wanted. But she was helping him, so he played along.
The woman sighed in annoyance, then pulled out a hundred-dollar bill from her purse and handed it to the guard.
"Keep the change." She said as she walked off, dragging Chase with her.
When they were alone, the woman revealed why she had helped him.
"I need you to be my son for a week."
Chase stopped sipping his slushy. "What's in it for me?"
"You'll have a place to stay and food to eat for a week. If you do a good job, you'll get a nice payout at the end."
Chase thought about the woman's offer. He was running low on money and sleeping on chairs, and the floor hurt. Despite looking like another snobbish rich woman, her eyes didn't look down at him. She had given him new clothes, a bag, and paid for his game and meal.
"Why not adopt one?"
"Things are...complicated."
"Spill the beans, or we don't have a deal."
"I can always find that security guard and let him know I had the wrong kid."
"Or I can scream for help right now and say you've kidnapped me."
"Touché." The woman said crossing her arms and leaning back into her chair. "Due to an unexpected development, my husband and I need a child for a week."
"Why pick me?"
"You're sharp and resourceful for a runaway."
"You have to be to survive without help."
"Do we have a deal?" She asked impatiently.
"Sure. I'm Chase."
"That's not your real name, is it?"
Chase shrugged at the woman playfully.
"Since you're using a made-up name, you won't have a problem if I give you another one. From now on, your name is Adam, and you will call me 'mom' or 'mother."
YOU ARE READING
Home
General FictionWhat is home? For a 10 year old boy, home never existed, a mother was a dream and a father was unimaginable. The place one lived was more often, not for him to stay. On his own for as long as he can remember, the boy has a chance encounter with a st...
