What I know now, that I didn’t realize thirty years ago, was that I could have run like hell. I totally could have gotten away with it. She never would have chased me. I was the only one in the store and she was the only employee. There is no way that she would have left the store to chase a stupid little thirteen-year-old who had tried to steal seven packs of Bubble Yum.

When she said, “Let me see your coat,” I knew I was busted. I had a quick vision of dashing through the door, running as fast as I could, and hiding in the backyard of someone’s house. She followed my line of sight and saw that I was looking at the door. As she went over to lock the doors I lost my window of opportunity. I chickened out. I just knew that she would chase me and of course catch me. If she didn’t catch me, I knew as a matter of absolute certainty that the cops would canvas the neighborhood with dogs and helicopters until they found me. Hiding in the bushed would do no good.