He wasn't going to steal. He could even swear it in court.
These were the contents of the young man's thoughts as he approached the back door of the local soup kitchen. No matter how he went through what he was going to do, he seemed highly suspicious.
It didn't help that there was a certain heaviness in the air today, a certain gloom in the way the volunteers moved about and talked with each other. Was there something wrong? Was this the best time to do what he had been planning to do? Perhaps, he could go about it later.
A rumble from his stomach reminded him of his hunger, the reason he was there in the first place. Delaying in the name of giving people space didn't seem to be an option right now, especially when he didn't really have that many choices for safe places to eat.
Maybe he could try to be a little more casual about it? No, he was way too nervous. He would easily give himself away. Not to mention that he was quite tall and lanky. There was no doubt that he would stand out.
And so, it felt like an eternity for him to finally reach the food item he wanted - a loaf of bread. Now, all he had to do was to put it in the cloth bag he brought with him...
"Hey! Stop!"
The young man had expected it would happen at some point, but he was still startled by the voice. So much so that he immediately let go of the loaf and his bag. He did not want the loaf to be damaged, but now he could not bring himself to pick it up.
A woman wearing a shirt that identified her as one of the volunteers quickly made her way towards him. She then held one of his arms firmly and looked him in the eyes. However, her expression seemed to be that of worry and compassion rather than anger, which surprised the young man.
"Look, kid," said the woman, "I understand that you might have a difficult time right now, and I don't think I will ever know as to what degree, but if you want food, you would have to line up like everybody else."
"I-I'm... sorry," blurted the young man, who didn't know what to say otherwise. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong, but he knew he looked wrong.
"Come on, let's get you to the end of the line."
The volunteer began to gently usher him towards the back door, and he, with great awkwardness and discomfort, followed her lead. That was, until he suddenly stopped.
"I..." The young man hesitant, but he truly wanted to speak his thoughts aloud. "I can help."
The volunteer was touched by the offer, but she had to decline. "Really now? Unfortunately for you, we're not looking for more volunteers..."
She looked for a moment towards the pantry, and part of her wanted to add something to what she was saying. However, she knew the young man should have nothing to do with her concern, and she kept her silence.
Still, the young man spoke up, standing his ground in the process. "I'm not volunteering!"
He did not mean to say it as loudly as he did, but he had caught the attention of the other volunteers. Seeing this, he, slightly embarrassed, stepped back a little from the woman and added, "I mean, you don't have to keep me as a volunteer... I just thought I could help."
The woman was confused. Wouldn't helping in any manner make the young man count as a volunteer of sorts, anyway? Whatever did he mean by not going to be a volunteer?
In any case, the young man took this momentary lack of resistance as an opportunity. "I can... get you more food."
"What do you mean by that? Weren't you going to take food from here?" asked the woman, who had then regretted what she had just said. "I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm accusing you of attempted theft here, but I don't see how you can 'get more food'."
There was certainly no way to answer it well in the verbal sense without him sounding like a liar or getting himself taken to the authorities, but he had already steered the conversation down this path. The young man would have to take it.
"I will show it."
He hurriedly walked towards his bag and the loaf that he had dropped earlier, which were, at this point, picked up by another of the volunteers and placed on one of the countertops. Then he took the bag, opened it wide in full view of everyone, then carefully placed the loaf inside.
The female volunteer that had stopped him before was about to stop him again, when she figured that there was something that was going to happen. She could see that the young man was standing still and concentrating, with one of his hands on the loaf inside the bag. What could this person possibly be thinking of doing?
After a while, the young man took out the loaf from the bag and placed it back on the counter.
Or rather, he took out a loaf from the bag. At this point, one could see that there was still a loaf in the bag, even though he had already taken one out. And this was considering he had only put one in and the bag was empty before that.
"No way..."
The woman understood it now. This young man had what others called a "glitch", an unusual ability that defied the normal logic of the world. Some have been found to be rather dangerous, and so the individuals that had them were of... high interest to governments. In their case, there was heavy monitoring, and not everyone found it reasonable to comply.
She realized that this young man might have been in hiding and had been relying on places like theirs for his needs. But now that he had exposed himself like this, what would happen now?
She felt she had to do something.
"You know, kid... I think that's just what we need here," she said, hoping her fellow volunteers would get the idea and also respond favorably.
"Really?" The young man couldn't believe it.
There was some hushed talk coming from the other volunteers, some with tones expressing agreement, some with concern.
"Think about it, guys," said the woman, now towards her fellows, "We're short on resources right now, but we can't just stop what we're doing. What about the people we're helping? And now we have this kid... he could be the key for us to get through this."
The other volunteers looked at each other. At first, they were hesitant, but soon, there were nods and murmurs of agreement.
"Welcome to the team, kid. My name's Jean," said the woman as she shook the youth's hand. "By the way, what do you want us to call you?"
The young man could now tell that Jean was doing him a favor in letting him use another name in place of his real one. He hasn't had any notable nicknames due to his given name being rather short, and so he had to come up with something on the fly.
Then he had it.
"Loaf. You can just call me Loaf."