Photo by Aziz Acharki on Unsplash

By Fraser Canavan

Henry stood on the playground’s edge. His hand clasped the brown metal railing as he watched a group of boys running around, yelling and terrorizing some younger students. In the background, the bright red and orange sun set, resembling that of a devil. As Henry watched the group of boys, he noticed one of them that looked vaguely familiar. As the boy turned his head, he recognized James, Henry’s childhood friend who was a part of that group. Unfortunately, Henry was caught staring at the group of boys, who now all looked at Henry with menacing gazes. As the boys rushed over towards Henry like wild boars, he felt uneasy and light-headed, unsure of his punishment as the boys got closer with every bounding step. Just as the boys reached him, James recognized Henry. “Guys; it’s alright! That’s my friend, James. We’ve been friends since we were, like, 2.” 

After this, James extended an invitation for friendship to Henry several times, making conversation and even walking home with Henry one day. On one of these occasions, James said that it would be fun for Henry to hang out with the group one Saturday evening. The idea of this both excited and terrified Henry. What if the group discovered that Henry’s love of science went beyond school and that he regularly competed in science fairs during the summer and even attended summer science camp? Eventually, Henry gathered enough courage and said yes to this invitation.

After the first Saturday night gathering, besides pretending he knew all the football players and even the teams they played for, Henry felt that he made a good impression and that the group liked him enough. Henry thought it was best not to talk too much and nodded in agreement for most of the evening. 

After Henry’s Saturday night with the boys, he was invited to a lunchtime playground meeting with the group on Monday morning.

One of the larger and scarier boys in the group addressed Henry directly. “So I saw you agreeing with us on Saturday about how fun shoplifting is.” Henry’s back stiffened at the words. The boy said, “We thought seeing you shoplift at the corner store would be cool. We will be outside waiting for you because they only allow two students in at a time. It would be dope to see your technique for stealing.” The group decided that Henry would steal that Friday after school. Then the group could hang out together and eat whatever he had stolen.

Dread surrounded Henry like a dark cloud hanging over his head. He didn’t speak for days. The thought of stealing disconcerted him; he had never been the type to steal. He wanted to feel invisible again and not face the consequences that it took to be “cool.” As Henry lay in bed the night before Friday, the thought of stealing raced in his mind like a high-speed train. The feeling in his chest grew more pronounced; his heart felt like a jackhammer pounding in his chest. Henry tossed and turned, no longer sleeping, the idea of becoming a thief looming over his head; he, motionless, stared at his ceiling for hours. 

Friday morning came, and along with it, the dreaded day for Henry. He wondered if he could convince his mother that he was sick and had to stay home. No such luck. His mom was distracted by his sister freaking out about how his mother had done her hair that day. She barely listened when Henry described how he felt, his mouth dry, and why he had to stay home. His mother handed him his lunch and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and out the door he went.

The distance to school felt like miles, and his feet felt like cement. Henry prayed that the group would forget that today was the day and Henry would be able to breathe again.  

He did not see the group during the school day as he had band practice during lunch. Henry wondered if he could ask his band teacher, Mr. Doherty, if any help after school tuning the instruments was needed. He nervously approached the music teacher, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone around him. “Excuse me, Mr. Doherty,” the boy stammered. “Do you need any help tuning the instruments?” Usually, Henry had to be asked to do this tedious job, but today he would be overjoyed to do it. Mr. Doherty was happy that someone was willing to do this job, but unfortunately, he had to leave after school to visit his mother. “I’m sorry, son,” he said. “I’m actually on my way to see my mother. She’s not feeling well.”

The boy’s heart sank as he realized he couldn’t escape the situation. Henry exited the school reluctantly, despondent when he saw James and the group waiting for him. The larger boy came up and pounded Henry’s back. 

Unlike his walk to school, it seemed as though the distance to the corner store was half the distance it usually was. The group told him they would hang out outside the store until Henry got out with his stolen items.

Henry climbed the steps to the store, chest-beating hard and fast. He opened the door that squeaked loudly; the bell rang, and the door closed behind him. Henry looked at the store owner, who looked up from his paper and looked him in the eye. Henry turned away quickly so as not to stare at the owner.

Henry thought about several things that might be easy to steal. The easiest and most minor thing to steal would be chocolate bars. Henry circled several aisles before coming to the candy aisle. He unzipped his knapsack and threw a couple of chocolate bars in.  

There were ten steps between him and the safety outside. He started for the door, making sure not to run or appear nervous. He did not look at the man behind the counter. Henry heard the bell ring as he exited the store; he had gotten away with it. A wide grin spread across his face. The pounding in his chest grew faint as he felt that cool breeze against his sweaty, trembling face. Yet, something felt different; he wasn’t sure what, but he didn’t feel free. 

His surroundings, once the backdrop of his illusion, now became the crux of his torment. The realization that he was still trapped inside the store crashed upon him like a tidal wave, shattering the fragile facade he had constructed. He now just stood in the middle of the aisle, frozen. Henry’s heart began to race as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. He knew he had been caught and didn’t know what to do. 

Panicked, the boy tried to run for it, but it was too late. The store owner grabbed his arm, “Not so fast, young man.” The boy’s face turned red with embarrassment and fear as he realized the gravity of his mistake. He had thought he had stolen from the store, but, in reality, he had only succeeded in trapping himself. The once high-speed train he heard now came to a screeching halt. Henry’s vision started to blur as he saw the group of boys, including James, outside, running away from the store.

Returning to the playground, Henry’s steps were hesitant, his gaze fixed on the ground. The once vibrant colours of the world around him appeared muted and dull, mirroring the remorse that consumed him. James and the other boys stood together, gazes filled with curiosity and judgment. Henry mustered the courage to approach them, his voice trembling with vulnerability.

“Guys, I need to talk to you,” Henry began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I made a terrible mistake. I thought I was being clever, but all I did was trap myself in a cycle of guilt and shame. I’ve learned my lesson the hard way. Stealing doesn’t just harm others; it tears you apart inside.”

His words hung in the air, a solemn confession that carried the weight of his transformation. The once defiant and thrill-seeking Henry had given way to a humbled soul who now understood his actions’ impact. His eyes met James’s, hoping to find forgiveness, but more importantly, hoping to inspire change in him and his friends.

“I don’t want to be defined by this mistake,” Henry continued, his voice gaining strength. “I want to be better, to make amends and rebuild the trust I’ve lost. I hope you all can understand, and maybe, just maybe, we can learn from this together.”

Silence enveloped the playground, broken only by the distant laughter of children at play. After a moment of contemplation, James stepped forward, his expression softening.

“Henry,” he said, his voice filled with sympathy and understanding. “We all make mistakes. It takes courage to own up to them and seek redemption. I believe in second chances. Let’s learn from this and support each other toward becoming better.” With those words, a glimmer of hope flickered within Henry’s heart, and as he turned his gaze towards that same bright red and orange sun, it now shone a thousand times brighter, representing not evil but hope and new beginnings.