Pulled Apart: Caught in the Act

“You reported vandalism?” a police officer asked Megan, a middle-aged woman. 

“Yes, a girl, about thirteen. When she saw me, I knew I'd caught her red-handed. Her blank, fixed expression reminded me of a black squirrel cornered on the patio deck, last summer. Her pupils were huge. She was scared.”

“What did you do?” 

“Officer, I am not unkind,” replied Megan. “But I had heard a noise outside my bedroom window that sounded like something being pulled apart on my car. I went to the front window. She was waiting for her bus. I opened the curtains, so she could see me.”

“That may not have been a good idea,” replied the officer. “You could put yourself in danger.”

“My first reaction was one of anger. It's not the first time teenagers have damaged my car. When I saw her face, I realized she was a gentile, beautiful girl, although mischievous, to say the least.”

“What did you do?”

“I gave her a royal wave and smiled. Then, I shook my finger at her, three times.”

“Did she respond?”

“She smiled back and then acted just like I expected. She held her hands out and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say, “I have no idea what you are trying to say.”

“Maybe I should talk to her parents, or lay a charge of public mischief.”

“Officer, could you just keep an eye on our area? This girl may be the one leaving adoption literature in my mailbox.”

“That’s trying to get your attention!”

“I have seen this before. Consider adoption and in the meantime, expose your home to vandalism and theft by inviting the culprit in,” replied  Megan. “I fell for that once, never again.”

“That puts a negative light on adoption.”

“When a young girl’s life is pulled apart by a broken marriage her response might be to pull someone’s property apart.”

“True! We can send a social worker.”

“Officer, if there are other incidents that may be an excellent idea.”

“Agreed, but first, let’s check your car.”