He was with his mum and his two older sisters in the mall. It was boring. He was four and a half years old. When I saw him he was sitting in the middle of the floor. His blond hair and cute pale cheeks attracted my attention. He was quite slim and had those angelic good looks.
She appeared out of nowhere, she was blond also. She seemed quite young. She picked him up off the floor and carried him tp the side of the shopfront where his sisters were standing. She slapped his face hard and he cried. I was taken aback as I passionately dislike a parent hitting a child in this way, I was passing close to them, the woman did not notice me, that is often the way with young mums with two or three young children to watch. The injustice of the face smack struck me. The boy had been doing nothing to warrant such unkindness. Sure he should not have been sitting on the floor but to have a sore face for such a crime??. As I passed him the little boy was holding the side of his face and crying. I went inot another shop.
A few minutes later the four of them entered the same store. I looked at the boy and the side of his face was pink, not so that anyone who had not seen the slap would have noticed but visbly redder than the other. He was a beautiful boy and I felt sorry for him. I thought that if he was punished like this for such a small offence what would happen for more serious misbehavior. His mother was either unkind or just very strict.
I was still in the store when they left, the boy was skipping after his sisters. The smack was clearly already forgotten. Still I woundered what would happen to the little fellow at home. What was his dad like?
I passed the bus stop in my BMW. It was raining hard and I noticed the bright blond hair of the woman I had seen in the store. Her three kids were hucddled around her for protection from the rain. I never stopped to offer lifts. It was a firm policy of mine. As I approached the stop slowly I suddenly pulled into the layby and looked in the rear view mirror for any sign of the bus. The service in our town is unrelaible, like most everything else so there was no sign of the bus.
The passenger window opened at the touch of the button..what the hell was I doing!
''Can I offer you a lift.. you look as if you have your hands full'' I asked, shocked at my words.
Of course the answer was 'yes'.
The mother got in the front and her three children in the back. The shopping bags were put in the boot.
The three kids said nothing. They sat in silence looking as if they had never been in such a car. Their mum did all the talking and by the time I dropped them off at their house I had found that she was a single mum living on benefits.
I helped her to the door with her shopping and the three kids disappeared into the house. I heard her say to the boy ''go to your room Jason', and the boy marched up the stairs. He could only climb them slowly as he was still quite small. I looked closely at him. What a great looking kid I thought.
I thought about how I could continue the conversation and perhaps arrange to meet her again but I could not think of anything to say. Instead I said goodbye and returned to the car. As I drove away I started to think about Jason, why had he had to go to his room, the slap to his face was unkind, would worse be happening to his little bottom now.
It was several weeks before I