Police

[moonshadows]

The police came for me when I was twelve.

I was with the Munich Circus, and had been for a few years. I liked it there; they didn't care that I was the blue devil, and the people in the towns we visited liked to see me, too. We were actually in Munich, for a change, doing our yearly stop-and-make-sure-everything-worked. I was washing something in the back, with the elephants, when I heard the shout.

"You there - the blue one!"

I looked up to see two police officers and a higher-rank officer looking at me.

"Come here, please."

I obediently jumped to a few feet in front of the officer. The two behind him look pretty startled, but I'm not the calmest right now, either.

"Are you Brandolf Goldschmidt?"

"Yes, sir," I'm gripping my tail nervously as I answer.

"Come with us, please."

"I...I have to tell the circus master..." I'm stammering with fear. I didn't do anything! Just then, though, I hear Mr. Meyer calling for me.

"Kurt! There you are." He pokes his head out from the nearest tent. "I forgot to tell you, the police are-" He breaks off as he sees the three I'm standing near. "Ah, you're here already. Kurt, they're going to take you to the police station." He stops when he sees the terrified look on my face. "It's safe, they're just going to register you. You're twelve now, lad, they're going to make you a citizen."

I look back at the commander, and he cracks a smile. "We will even buy you an ice cream when we're done. Your name is Kurt?"

"Kurt Brandolf Wagner" I nod a little nervously and follow them to the police car. The two officers sit in the front, and the commander and I sit in the back. I watch the streets, fascinated, until we get to the police station. I'm looking around like a tourist when we get inside the station, and everyone's looking at me. They're smiling though, so I smile back. The commander leads me to a back room, and one of the officers presses my fingers in black ink, then onto a sheet of stiff paper. There's a little talking back and forth, about too many spaces and not enough fingers, before he just presses each finger into two squares on the paper, and then my whole hand on a bigger spot. Then he does the other hand. While I'm washing my hands free of the ink, the commander asks me if I always go barefoot.

"I have some wooden sandals," I venture, "for when it gets too cold or muddy..." I trail off, and the commander takes a good look at my feet. It's obvious that I can't wear any shoes but ones made specially for me, and that my feet are hard enough that I don't need shoes.

After some talking, my feet are also pressed into the ink and then onto the paper. I wash my feet, and then the commander is asking me what I can do, how far I can jump, that sort of thing. I answer as best I can, demonstrating sometimes, and the officer writes down everything. Finally, the commander is satisfied that they've fully documented everything I can do.

"It's for your own protection," he tells me. "So that if someone commits a crime that no normal person could have done, we can prove that it wasn't you."

I'm led to a small room where I stand in a little niche and nervously hold my tail while red lights play all over my body. Then the commander comes and gets me, and takes me back to his office to explain my rights and privileges as a citizen. I get my own ID card, with a little holo of my face on it. On the back it says that I'm a citizen of Germany, and lists my rights and privileges. When he's done, he talks into a phone and a pretty lady officer comes in with an ice cream sundae and some coffee for the commander. We sit and enjoy this, talking a little, until the officer comes in and hands me a little booklet.

"What's this?" It's blue, with sparkly lettering on it, and my name in big gold letters. I'm almost afraid to touch it, it looks so official.

"That's your passport," the commander says. "So that if you travel out of Germany, the officials will know that you are a protected citizen. You must come back to us in five years to get it renewed." He takes the passport from me and seals it in a plastic envelope, then slides it back across the desk.

I pick it up. I'm a citizen. That makes me feel better than the ice cream.