When I was four or five years old my family went to K-mart often. During one of our trips my brother spotted a Batman nightlight. My brother asked if he could have it. My mom promply told him no. "Put it back," she instructed him.
My mom was engrossed in her shopping when my brother stealthily added the nightlight to the bottom of the cart. He gestured for me not to say anything. I normally followed my brother's instructions, so I didn't say anything. When my mom was finished she went to the checkout counter to buy the items. When she spotted the nightlight she tried to explain to the cashier that she wasn't buying the nightlight. My mom didn't realize the nightlight was in the cart until the cashier wanted to scan the item. Confusion resulted. The cashier neither understood our language (American Sign Language) nor our intentions.
The cashier called her manager. The manager came out of his office with a smug look on his face. He told us that he had been watching us all along on the cameras they had installed throughout the store. He was very pleased that he had "caught" us. He called us into his office. My mom told me to interpret (although I was very confused about what was going on). The manager tried to instill fear in us by using large words that I didn't understand, such as legal terms. He rambled on until he finally said something that I could understand. "Do you want me to send the police to your house?" I finally became afraid and I interpreted what he said. My mom replied with "yes". I thought maybe she misunderstood, so I tried again. Her response stayed the same.
Later that night the police came to our house. They pounded on the door, then burst into our house like they were SWAT. It was already night. The only light we had on was the Batman nightlight in my bedroom (my brother and I shared a room). The police immediately searched the house. "Where's your dad?" an officer kept asking me. I was confused and scared. "I don't have a dad," I sobbed. (I didn't know my father at that time.) They searched closets and found my mom in her bedroom. (She was not hiding in the first place.)
Meanwhile I tried to explain what little I did understand. I tried to confess to taking the nightlight and I tried to give it back. The police told my brother and me to wait in the bedroom as they discussed things with my mom. I waited and wondered if I would need to interpret. I didn't want anyone to go to jail. Finally an officer came and calmed me down. He told me that everything was ok and that no one was going to jail. We even got to keep the Batman nightlight.
To this day I still don't like K-mart. I also don't like interpreting in scenarios in which I am not qualified to interpret. Good interpreters do not go into an interpreting situation cold. They know the vocabulary and know what is being said. If you ever need an interpreter please don't expect your bilingual four-year-old children to interpret everything for you.
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