Soundly embarrassed

Of course I hadn’t even heard my captor come up behind me and gather my head and neck into his large hand. For such a large person he moved very quietly. He was definitely cat-like. Big Cat like. Lion, taking a dik-dik cat-like. (the dik-dik is the smallest type of Gazelle, and if I recall, strangely, the nickname we used for my oldest sister) However, there I was, engulfed in the fist of this behemoth, who was about to take me back to face the owner of the toy windmill I had stolen. I was intensely terrified. I knew I was in the wrong. I knew I should never have even contemplated the idea of stealing something. I knew there would be serious consequences. The idiocy I had shown by trying to steal something, simply because I didn’t have any money. Particularly something that cost a whole dollar. $1:00. One dollar.

Back then, that was one hundred real cents. When one hundred cents could actually be divided into one hundred actual cents. How do kids do adding up today in this country? You have five cents, but it can’t be made into five actual cents, or even five pieces of anything. Our five cent piece today, is the smallest physical unit of currency. But it isn’t one unit. It isn’t listed as one unit. It’s still five. Five what? It isn’t five of anything. Yet twenty of them will make one dollar (100 divided by 5 is still 20, so far) It cannot be one hundred of them. But nowadays, you can only divided one hundred by nothing larger than twenty. Yes, twenty cents is four fives, but again, you cannot divide it by ones. Surely this is confusing. If it wasn’t for electronic banking, the individual cents could not be used at all.

However, we are not talking about the now, but the then. I had stolen something that cost a dollar, and I could not afford to pay for it. I was now about to go through a series of trials (each with their own set of consequences) and ultimately, I would of course expect to receive a massive punishment. I had publicly committed an illegal act. One, which was sure to come to the attention of not only my parents, but most likely the local police as well. I was being escorted (physically propelled) through the crowd that was walking in front of the stalls and stands. My massive captor didn’t walk me back to the stall through the back way I had run after stealing the toy. No, he obviously understood the potential action he was undertaking. He recognised the true purpose of public humiliation when used accordingly. He knew the effect of such embarrassment. And now, as I was moved through the crowd, though I could barely see through the tears of fear that were obviously streaming down my face, I could tell by their faces they knew I was in trouble and had done something I shouldn’t have done.

(Continued tomorrow)