1 Mother 2 Another

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I almost didn't open the envelope.  It looked like junk
mail.  Still, my father in law had taken the time to forward
it to me.  It was strange that someone had me listed at his
address in Atlanta.  I opened it.  And freaked out.

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It was a letter from a creditor for $500+ in unpaid Poland Springs
bills.  The only problem:  I don't have an account at
Poland Springs.  Or so I thought.  My immediate
thought:  there is a fraudulent Abigail Liu out there. 
She drinks a lot of water.

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My next thought:  how deep does this go?  Every dramatic
identity theft story that I'd ever read in the greasy, dog-eared
pages of doctor's office copies ofclass="Apple-converted-space"> Good
Housekeepingclass="Apple-converted-space"> rose to the
surface.  Miles and miles of unwinding.  Paperwork. 
Lawyers. Creditors banging down the door.  Frozen
accounts.

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Lord, have mercy.

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"Can I have a snack?" My six year old son, Joshua,  pulled me
back to reality.  We'd just gotten home from school.  I
shoved a box of Cheez Its at him.  The whole box.  No
fruit, no protein.  I needed him to be occupied and happy
while I made phone calls. Processed white flour with MSG was just
the thing.

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"Can I have the last four digits of your social?" asked the woman
at the creditor's office.

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I gave it to her. "I have bad news for you, m'am," she said, "The
person who opened this account knows your social security
number."

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#$#$@Q#$#$$%$%#$%$#%$%!!  (No, I did not say that, I only
thought it.)

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The thief had created a yahoo account in my name and had he water
delivered to an address in Philadelphia.

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"So you've never lived in Philadelphia?" she asked.  (Never,
ever.) "You're going to need to get a police report.  Fax it
to this number."

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She was kind and happy to have my actual address and telephone
number, no doubt.

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I took a deep breath, then sat down at the computer. I checked my
credit atcolor="rgb(17, 85, 204)">Experian.com.  If I was
going to make a trip to the local precinct, I wanted to know
everything I could about the crime I was going to report.

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On my credit report, I could see that the fraudulent Abigail tried
to open several accounts over a two day period in August.  She
was denied several cell phone accounts before she was successful
opening the Poland Springs account.  Then the activity
stopped.  My information hit a wall for her--at least, I hope
so.  Whoever she is, Abigail has probably moved on to the next
identity.  She probably has a list.

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"Put your shoes on, Joshua!  We're going to the police
station."

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He complied immediately, unable to believe his luck.  He
skipped almost the whole way up the street as we walked the few
blocks to our local precinct.

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And somehow, as soon as we walked through the imposing, grimy metal
door, I felt guilty.  The ledge of the front desk came up to
my shoulder, so I felt like I was in a court room talking to a
judge. My hands shook when I handed him my driver's license. 
I didn't expect that.

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"So, you've never lived in Philly?" asked the officer, looking
over my driver's license.

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He was all Law and Order, only a little less sophisticated and with
a strong New Jersey accent.  "And your last name is Liu?"

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He looked at my white face, skepticism written on his.  Sizing
me up for identity theft? He couldn't see my very obviously
mixed-race child over the ledge of the counter.  I almost
launched into an explanation, that I was married to a Chinese
American, but decided against it.

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"Yes." I said.

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Joshua surveyed the place with contentment, but held my hand. 
The linoleum floor looked like it had never been cleaned.  The
white walls were yellowing with hand prints and smudges.  A
sign on the back wall gave instructions on how to sign out fire
arms.  Joshua was in heaven.  A real police station.

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"Okay, so tell me again, when did you live in Philly?"  the
officer asked.

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"I've never lived in Philly.  I've lived here for the past
13 or so years. Joshua, please stop pulling on me, sweetheart."

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Joshua wasn't pulling on me, but I thought that I would play the
mom card to see if it got me any sympathy.  It worked. "Did
you check your credit?" he asked.

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I told him what I'd found on the Experian website.  "It
sounds like you are doing the right things.  Put a flag on
your credit."

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He filled in some paperwork, handed me a paper with a file name,
and gave me instructions on where to pick up the police report in a
week.

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As we left, two officers ascended the stairs with a man in
handcuffs.  They pulled him back to the bottom of the stairs
to let us pass.  On the sidewalk, Joshua smiled.

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"Mom," he said, "I think that I just saw my first person who might
go to jail!"

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To him, cops and robbers is a game.  To me, it definitely is
not. He chatted the whole way home, wondering why the man had been
arrested.  Whatever his story, he definitely needed
prayer.  We prayed for him.

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To the fake Abigail Liu out there:  I hope that they find you
before you ruin someone's life.