A wealthy-looking man could return stolen merchandise.
A teenager in a worn shirt could walk in with five thousand dollars in legitimate savings.
Daniel believed his job was simple.
Treat everyone the same.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
Malcolm smiled nervously.
"Yes. I'm here for the Orion X."
Daniel's expression brightened.
"The black-and-silver pair?"
"Yes."
"Size?"
"Twelve."
Daniel checked the computer.
"You're lucky. We have one left."
Malcolm laughed.
"I called yesterday."
"That was you?"
"Yeah."
Daniel disappeared into the stockroom.
When he returned, he carried a black box.
Malcolm's hands trembled slightly.
Daniel noticed.
"Big moment?"
Malcolm nodded.
"I've been saving for these forever."
Daniel placed the box on the counter.
"Then let's make sure they're worth the wait."
He opened it.
Malcolm stared.
For a few seconds, he didn't speak.
Daniel smiled.
"Try them."
Malcolm sat down.
The shoes fit perfectly.
He stood.
Walked across the store.
Turned.
Looked at himself in the mirror.
Then he smiled.
"I'm taking them."
Daniel processed the transaction.
Part of the payment came from Malcolm's savings.
The remainder came from the account his parents had helped fund.
The receipt printed.
Daniel placed it inside the box.
He wrapped everything carefully.
Then he handed Malcolm the shopping bag.
"Happy birthday."
Malcolm shook his hand.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
Malcolm walked outside.
He sat at the bus stop directly across from the store.
He took a photograph of the bag.
Then he sent it to his parents.
Got them.
His mother responded almost immediately.
Proud of you.
His father sent a laughing emoji followed by:
Don't wear them in the rain.
Malcolm laughed.
He didn't notice the woman sitting three seats away.
Her name was Patricia Caldwell.
She was forty-nine.
She had just come from Crown Sole.
She had been shopping for her son Daniel's birthday.
The shoes she wanted for him cost almost four thousand dollars.
She couldn't afford them.
That fact had irritated her.
She had spent fifteen minutes looking at the shoes.
Then she had asked about financing.
The answer had annoyed her.
Now she was sitting at the bus stop, staring at the expensive Crown Sole shopping bag beside Malcolm.
Her eyes moved from the bag to Malcolm.
Then to his clothes.
Then to his old backpack.
Then to the worn sneakers he had been wearing before buying the new pair.
Her expression changed.
A conclusion formed in her mind.
She never asked him a question.
She never saw the receipt.
She never knew his parents had helped him.
She simply decided.
He had stolen them.
Patricia took out her phone.
She called the police.
"I need to report a theft," she said.
The dispatcher asked what she had seen.
Patricia looked at Malcolm.
"There's a young man outside Crown Sole with a very expensive pair of sneakers."