PaulTwo Thieves (Part 2)
March 18th 2007 19:50
I lengthened my answers to her ceaseless questions. She was looking for a present. Pay day (pension day?) was Thursday; she'd come back then. She wanted to find a nice wooden box. Maybe for some tarot cards. What did I think? Did I know the tarot? Where could you buy tarot? Could you get lessons? What about runes; what were they about? Did I know? She didn't believe in them, but you never knew, did you? Still, a nice box was always nice, wasn't it? She could get one of those even if she didn't get the cards, couldn't she? How big were tarot cards anyway? Oh, so there were different sizes, were there? Should she get some cards first, to make sure they fitted the box?
And so on. I listened and responded as a community service. My good deed. Keeping up with her was draining and I willed her from the shop with all my might.
Finally, she completed her obsessive examination of everything downstairs and mounted the mezzanine. As she passed the register, she threw yet another inquiry over her bony shoulder. It was only after answering that I thought I detected a faint change in her tone.
'Whatsyername?'
'Paul.' I tasted where the word had been, feeling like it had been plucked from my tongue. I shot back clumsily. 'What's yours?'
Again the friendly, lopsided grin. 'Ronnie.'
Great. So that was the name I'd give to the cops if something went missing? Mistrust raised its hand from the back of my class.
'Geez, yerdoin the right thing with this jewellery, with the glassanall. Otherwise people'd comeinere an pinch the lot.'
Surely this was proof she was testing the water. I decided to frighten her. 'Yeah, we get a lot of thieves in here. Once we caught a woman trying to stuff a dress down her underpants. She said she was "trying it on". Then she stood outside and begged from passers by until she had enough money to buy it.'
'Geez, I'm surprised ya didn't call the cops.'
Touché. Slippery bitch. That was it; she was gearing up for a hit. I resolved to stop her.
Then came the humming.
To be continued...
And so on. I listened and responded as a community service. My good deed. Keeping up with her was draining and I willed her from the shop with all my might.
Finally, she completed her obsessive examination of everything downstairs and mounted the mezzanine. As she passed the register, she threw yet another inquiry over her bony shoulder. It was only after answering that I thought I detected a faint change in her tone.
'Whatsyername?'
'Paul.' I tasted where the word had been, feeling like it had been plucked from my tongue. I shot back clumsily. 'What's yours?'
Again the friendly, lopsided grin. 'Ronnie.'
Great. So that was the name I'd give to the cops if something went missing? Mistrust raised its hand from the back of my class.
'Geez, yerdoin the right thing with this jewellery, with the glassanall. Otherwise people'd comeinere an pinch the lot.'
Surely this was proof she was testing the water. I decided to frighten her. 'Yeah, we get a lot of thieves in here. Once we caught a woman trying to stuff a dress down her underpants. She said she was "trying it on". Then she stood outside and begged from passers by until she had enough money to buy it.'
'Geez, I'm surprised ya didn't call the cops.'
Touché. Slippery bitch. That was it; she was gearing up for a hit. I resolved to stop her.
Then came the humming.
To be continued...
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Comment by katyzzz
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I love the little dog and his eye(s). Not too sure about the story, but , then again, that's me.
katyzzz