WATCH YOUR STEP
By Don Parker, Florida
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But one deputy was enough because the place wasn't exactly crowded at this time of the day, and the few shoppers were usually moms with preschool children. When they got to our display, the kids went for the motorcycle but weren't interested in my crime prevention brochures. This was surprising because I thought all kids would be fascinated with "How To Reduce Inventory Shrinkage With Proper Security Techniques." But it didn't really matter because I had absolutely no chance of holding their interest anyway. The City Police Department also had a display; but they had Blinky their "talking" patrol car. Blinky was a specially modified Volkswagen bug with "eyes" that blinked (hence his name) and moved around. He was also equipped with a speaker and a microphone. The operator, standing some distance away, could speak into a small microphone and become Blinky's voice. He could hear what the kids were saying and would answer their questions.

On this particular day the city officer sat at his table and manipulated Blinky by remote control. Time and again a mother with a small child in tow hurryied by. As they drew abreast of Blinky, his eyes suddenly popped open and swiveled around. "Hello, little boy (or girl)" Blinky said, freezing the kids in their tracks. Mom had no choice but to stop and let the now fascinated youngster spend a few minutes talking with Blinky. The child was never eager to leave, but I had to hand it to the city cop. As soon as he saw mom start looking at her watch Blinky told the kid it was his nap time. Sure enough, Blinky's eyes slowly closed and sounds of snoring emerged from under his hood. The grateful mom had no problem leaving.

Blinky was formidable competition, but I still gave it my best shot. "Hey, kid," I'd say to a thumb-sucking toddler. "Want to learn ten ways to detect a forged check?" Obviously, I didn't get many takers, but I did have safety coloring books with friendly-looking policemen and policewomen demonstrating various safety principles. For reasons unknown to me the books were entirely in Spanish. But since few of customers could read, this wasn't a major disadvantage.

The morning hours dragged by, but it was even worse after lunch. The whole place hit a lull and the meager foot traffic slowed to a trickle. I was sitting at my table when I heard footsteps slowly approaching me from behind. I glanced up and saw a man who appeared to be in his late fifties, strolling along, checking out the displays. I tried not to stare, but I couldn't help it because he was extremely impressive. At first glance he resembled Ernest Hemingway right down to the gray beard. He was wearing a shaggy tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows, a white turtleneck and a pair of dark trousers. As a final touch he was smoking a pipe. If I were making a movie about a writer or a college professor, I would cast him in the part. He walked by, puffing thoughtfully on his pipe, nodded politely at me and continued on down the mall. I watched him as he proceeded leisurely along, checking out store windows, occasional puffs of smoke marking his progress. I finally lost sight of him when he disappeared into a store at the very end of the mall.

Thirty minutes later he was back. Again, I heard the measured tread of his steps first. I looked up and saw him approaching from the other side. He seemed to radiate dignity and an enormous amount of self-confidence. I imagined he was probably a natural leader. I envisioned him on the quarterdeck of a clipper ship bellowing orders or mounted on a coal-black horse leading the Light Brigade into the Valley of Death.

This time he walked down the several steps to the sunken fountain beside our display. The fountain was not operating, although there was water in the shallow pool around it. The water was glass smooth, not a trace of a ripple disturbing its surface. The man reached the bottom of the steps and proceeded along the edge of the pool, his eyes fixed on something in the distance and, I was quite sure, thinking large and important thoughts.

Evidently, large and important thoughts can cause a man to be temporarily unaware of his surroundings. With his next stride he stepped smoothly into the ankle-deep water with his right foot. Just as smoothly, he brought his sodden foot out of the water and continued along the edge of the pool without a change of facial expression. He walked up the steps toward me, puffing on his pipe, nodded politely as he had before, glanced again at the various displays and kept on going, never altering his pace.

I blinked, wondering if I had imagined the whole thing. I had not. I still heard his footsteps in the quiet mall, but there was a significant difference. Instead of the slow "Step-Step-Step-Step-Step-Step...," they now went "Step-Squish-Step-Squish-Step-Squish..."

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