Terwilliger Jeeps was a polite man, never speaking crossly to anybody if he could help it.
But today, Terwilliger uttered a loud and cross “YOU BOY!” as – out of the corner of his eye – he saw a young scruff stealing an apple from the outdoor display. The boy bolted.
Terwilliger’s handlebar moustache twisted left, and determination sat on his face in exactly the way no woman ever had as he raced to the door to give chase to this junior miscreant.
Before exiting, he turned to address the customers in his shop. “With your understanding I shall return directly, but if you must leave before then, please place your money in the till and take your change. I trust your honesty!”
He turned to rush out, when a customer called out his name urgently. “Terwilliger! Wait!”
Terwilliger turned patiently. “Yes, Mr. Hurley?”
“What of those of us with an account?”
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“Ah, yes, then just write your name in the book and the amount and I’ll do the tally at day’s end. And now, if you will…” and here he turned again to run to catch the truant who had stolen the apple…
… but not before taking his hat off and bowing a nod to Reverend Smith who was just walking by…
… and to help the Widow Clyde cross the street…
… and a half-dozen other acts of kindness that resulted in Terwilliger completely losing track of which direction his stolen produce might have gone.
Frustrated, Terwilliger trudged back to his store and paid for the apple himself, silently pledging that if he saw the kid again, he’d plunge an axe in his face, because all that politeness was hiding some scary shit.
