Civic Duty

By Denise Rajauski
Part 1

Joe Thompson turned the volume up on the car radio as the first strains of 'Jingle Bells' wafted through the speakers, and sang along lustily as he drove into the parking lot of the South View strip mall. Sitting beside him in the car, his 5-year-old daughter Kate looked up at him with the same expression of exasperated affection he was more accustomed to seeing on the face of her mother, his wife Frankie.

"Daddy," she said in her childish but curiously precise voice, "you are going to wake the baby." She waved toward the back seat where her 3-month-old sister, Paulina, was tucked securely into her car seat, fast asleep.

Joe chuckled ruefully, shaking his head as he switched off the music. Kate was all business, practicality itself. It was becoming more and more apparent to him that although he'd been Kate's primary caregiver, staying home to raise her while his wife built a career in cancer research, his eldest daughter took after Frankie in almost every way. She had none of his impulsive tendencies whatsoever, for which Joe Thompson was profoundly grateful. His propensity for leaping into the pool before checking to see if there was any water had caused his entire family enormous grief. A few years back, his misguided attempt at helping his brother, Paul, and sister-in-law, Linda, conceive a child had resulted in a hell of a mess. That Paul not only still spoke to him, but also was closer to him than ever was nothing short of a miracle.

The parking lot was glutted with the cars of other last minute holiday shoppers. Joe drove around slowly, searching for an empty space with some annoyance, though he knew he richly deserved the hassle for waiting until two days before Christmas to buy Frankie's present. Putting off doing things until the last possible minute was another failing of his, although he thought he was getting better at keeping his daily life in order since their move to the States three years ago.

What was supposed to have been a short-term relocation to Charlottesville, West Virginia, became a permanent stay when Frankie was named director of the entire research facility. That, along with Paulina's birth and Kate's reaching school age had convinced them their nomadic existence was over.

They'd bought a house, and Joe had settled happily into the life of a suburban housewife. He was the only man amongst the dance recital-attending, cookie-baking, carpool-organizing mothers at Kate's kindergarten. That his own career as an engineer seemed to be permanently on hold didn't bother him in the slightest, and his contentment in making a home and raising the girls no longer irked Frankie as it had in the past. She'd come to accept, even value that Joe was a born househusband.

"Aha!" he exclaimed.

Kate shot him a knowing glare as Paulina gave a start in the back seat and loudly voiced her displeasure at the rude awakening. Joe cooed to the baby soothingly, but kept his eyes on a likely prospect walking across the lot pushing a loaded shopping cart, oblivious to the numerous cars circling around her like hungry sharks. He joined this crowd of parking space hopefuls, and managed to be the first one into the space when she pulled away. The other drivers marked his victory by gesturing at him in the world famous American Driver's Salute. Smiling, he covered Kate's eyes with one hand as he undid his seatbelt with the other.

He opened the car door and stepped out into the crisp early evening air, taking several deep lungfuls before moving around to the passenger side to see to the girls. He'd grown to love the West Virginia winters, and found that he positively adored the bombastic way Americans celebrated Christmas. The first time the silver garland, plastic reindeer, and candy canes appeared at the Thompson home was marked with amused horror by Frankie, but she'd resigned herself to it in the face of Joe's enthusiasm and even allowed herself to enjoy it a bit -- although she flatly refused to be seen outdoors with him if he wore the Santa hat.

The white pom-pom of said Santa hat slipped forward and batted him in the nose as he leaned into the back to transfer the baby from the car seat to her sling carrier. With the lightning speed that seems to come from nowhere in an infant, Paulina snatched the pom-pom and gave it a tug, yanking the red felt down over her father's eyes. "Hey!" he tickled the baby under her fat little chin. "Who's a naughty girl, then?" he laughed, as he pushed the hat back onto his tousled auburn curls.

Kate unfastened her own seatbelt and walked back to stand by the open door, dragging the baby's diaper bag along. Joe smiled at her warmly. She wore her chin length hair in tiny cornrow braids strung with a multitude of white pony beads. He had a teasing habit of ruffling them with his fingers until they clacked together wildly. He did this now and she treated him to one of her serene smiles.

"Thank you, sweet. You're always a big help to me," he said. "Now stand right there please, while I see to your sister."

Joe got Paulina bundled into the sling and hooked the straps over his shoulders. He fished in his jacket pocket, brought out her pacifier, and stroked her downy cheek with gentle fingers for a moment. The baby soon had her head comfortably ensconced on his chest, and was completely still excepted for the rhythmic bobbing of the pacifier.

He took the diaper bag from Kate and clucked his tongue.

"Button your coat, sweet." As she complied, he locked the car and surveyed the vast variety of stores that were arranged in a square around the lot. "Hmm. What shall we get Mummy for Christmas?" he asked.

Kate looked up from her meticulous buttoning. "A coloring book," she said promptly, "and some crayons, too."

Joe squatted down and did up the last two buttons for her, appearing to thoughtfully consider the suggestion. He straightened and took her hand.

As they walked towards the pavement he asked, "What would Mummy do with a coloring book if we bought one for her?"

Kate glanced up at her father and rolled her eyes as if she couldn't believe what an idiot he was sometimes. "Color the pictures, silly. Mom can color when she's bored and smell the crayons when she feels sad."

"Smell the crayons?"

Kate nodded vigorously. "Yes. Everybody knows crayons smell so good that they make you feel better."

Joe grinned. "Ah. I didn't know that. I'll have to remember that next time I'm feeling sad."

"Play-Doh works, too," she informed him.

Joe nodded seriously. "That's certainly good to know."

They reached the sidewalk directly in front of a jewelry store window and Joe stopped, caught by the glittering display. His wife wasn't as a rule excited by flashy gems, but there were some gold watches down at the front that were very nice indeed. One in particular stood out. It had very clean lines, with no ornamentation whatsoever. It was spare and elegant, much like Frankie herself, and he knew at once that it was perfect. He pressed his index finger against the glass.

"How about this?" he asked, then as Kate turned her large dark eyes up to his face added quickly "As well as a pretty coloring book."

He couldn't believe his luck. They were in and out of the jewelers in five minutes flat, and it was only ten minutes more for Kate to choose a coloring book and crayons from the drugstore. Soon they were striding happily back to the car.

Joe realized when they reached it that Kate's coat was unbuttoned yet again. He set the diaper bag on the hood of the car and knelt, tsk-tsking, to fasten it.

"Sweet, you really must remember to do this up when you're outdoors." he said reprovingly.

She stuck out her small chin defiantly. "You never button your coat either, Daddy."

Joe looked up from his task, down to his own unzipped jacket, which he'd left unfastened when he hooked the baby's sling around himself, and then back up into his daughter's beautiful coffee-colored eyes. She looked decidedly smug. He opened his mouth to take issue with this, but just then Paulina lifted her head and gazed at him as if in complete agreement with her sister. He had to laugh.

"All right, you win then. He tapped Kate's nose, chuckling. "We'll remind each other from now on."

He was straightening up to retrieve the diaper bag when he heard a voice call out "Excuse me! Can we talk to you for a moment, sir?"

Joe turned to see a man and a woman approaching through the tangle have parked autos. He tensed briefly, but as they got closer he relaxed because they were obviously on Official Business. Both were well dressed in matching tan trench coats and the man carried a walkie-talkie. The woman, who was brandishing a clipboard, spoke first.

"We were hoping that you might be of help to us, sir."

Joe looked from one to the other. "If I can be." he ventured uncertainly.

The man cleared his throat. "My name is Jameson and this is my assistant, Ms. Crowe." The woman smiled and nodded. Jameson went on. "I'm head of security here at South View Mall." He took a wallet from the pocket of his coat, opened it, and held it in front of Joe's face. On one side was an identification card, and on the other was a shiny silver badge. Joe examined both and raised his brows.

"Is they're a problem?" he asked, digging into the shopping bag that was slung over his arm. "I have all the receipts ..."

Ms. Crowe raised her hand and waved it dismissively. "Oh no, no, no, not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact." she said, stepping closer and smiling down at Kate, who moved a little ways behind her father. Joe was momentarily surprised at this, for she wasn't normally a shy child. He was glancing down to reassure her when Jameson spoke.

"We think you have a very trustworthy face, Mr. ..."

"Thompson. Joe Thompson."

"Mr. Thompson." Jameson stuck out a rather meaty hand. "As I was saying, you seem like the type who would do all they could to help out." Joe shook the man's hand, disliking the clammy feel of it, but his curiosity was piqued upon hearing the word 'help'. "Yes," he said slowly, "I like to help people whenever I can."

Jameson glanced over at Ms.Crowe; they grinned at one another and then he placed a hand on Joe's shoulder. "Very good Mr. Thompson." he said ingratiatingly. "Because we have a very big favor to ask of you."

And that was how ten minutes later Joe came to be standing at the department store's jewelry counter, surreptitiously glancing around to see where the security cameras were located.