A Scrabble Tile and a Bottle Cap

I stared at the little boy's hand and wondered what I should do. I could see from his frail body, his slightly protruded stomach, and the outline of his ribs that his family was poor. Yet, how was I supposed to deny store policy? It wasn't much that he wanted and I wanted to help, but I was being denied even minimum wage to work my job, so I was paying my rent and hardly eating as it was. I couldn't just give him the food with money from my paycheck.

"You're taking too long!" my boss roared from behind my back. I jumped as I had no idea that he was there and I watched the little boy jump backwards at the blast of the insulting tone. I started to speak, but was interrupted.

"What use is he to us?"

"Sir, if you don't mind,"

"Mind what? That I'm trying to run a business here?"

I questioned to myself if he was really trying to run a business. If he was trying to run a business, it was a corrupt one. None of the employees were paid minimum wage, but he was somehow passing the pay that got as legal. I looked down at the boy's hand again - there were two things there - a scrabble tile and a bottle cap.

"Okay, you can have the milk and crackers. These'll do for payments."

Thankfully, my boss had left to go torture other employees before I had made that transaction. The next few minutes felt like hours. A little man who always came to buy a lottery ticket was there and as normal he gave me a dollar and I gave him a lottery ticket.

"Oh, and dearie, here's five dollars. I saw what you did."

I sighed with relief.

"I'd hug you if I were allowed."

"It's okay. It'll always be okay."