Monday, February 29, 2016

In the Mists of the Dissatisfaction of an Honest Man

They stood there, crying, those two girls, about whom Donald knew for certain that they at least one of them must have stolen his wallet. Even so they looked very innocent, although there was absolutely no way that they could actually be it! In amazement Donald stared at them for a while.

Then one of them said: “I was trying to find out if it was he who had stolen my ticket for the train.” then she gave a fairly detailed description of the train ticket he had himself bought earlier that day.

A boy who was with the girls stood up and said to him: “You better give that ticket back to her! Because it's no way to treat an innocent girl like that to fake that its she who stole from you rather than the other way around!”

Even the boy looked astonishingly innocent to Donald, although he wasn't exactly the crying type - on the surface, even. Instead, he looked a bit threateningly at him now. At first Donald was frightened so that he felt he couldn't decide on what to say. But after a short while he did speak his mind, and said: “I don't recall that she ever had a reason to think I ever stole from her! I believe that they are just faking it! And so are you perhaps!?”

He looked at the three of them. All of them seemed to be from somewhere near Mediterranean sea, or so, he thought, and looked glanced quickly at each of them again. Then he felt that the three of them were related, and probably even siblings.

In the pub where they confronted each other, there were fairly many people around the four of them. A lady who seemed to have been listening since about two minutes back said: “I don't believe you can have the guts to say to the girls there that they are trying to steal from you! Instead, you just stand here and say to everyone else that they have been stealing from you!” This comment surprised Donald a bit, because the lady who had spoken seemed unrelated to the other three. But he found her to be perhaps in league with them - and possibly even related to them, even though it didn't show.

A bartender arrived and looked at them all. He had an air of sophistication about his ways, which Donald wondered if it had to do with that he worked with other things as well.

“What should they all think you are?” the bartender asked him. “It seems to me, as well, that you are an asshole in having stolen from these young and innocent girls.”

Donald felt happy that he hadn't drunk more than one glass of whine that evening. Because, he figured, they could perhaps even have had him himself believe their fairly outrageous lies, if he had! At the same time, though, he felt frightened about not being able to show that he was not the one who was guilty at all of stealing anything form anyone this evening. There wasn't even a clue in him about how the could have stolen even a train ticket.

“Unlike those youngsters, and perhaps that young woman too, I can't trick people into believing me! But I can say I'm innocent because I'm not very capable of stealing! I wouldn't be the one to be able to steal that ticket - and perhaps I can even prove, later on that it was I who bought such a ticket earlier today!”

The waiter looked at him for a while. He seemed to be into scrutinizing him to the extent he could possibly be a liar. Then he answered: “I can't know to which extent you're imbecile enough not to be able to steal anything! But this time it's you who owe her a ticket, not the other way around!”

Donald stood still for a while, a bit baffled by it all. Then he checked his pockets, and found that he didn't even find his car keys. Nor could he find his mobile phone, which didn't surprise him, disturbed him even more about that the girls - and whoever else could be in on it - seemed very guilty to the extent they didn't admit that he was the one that someone had stolen from.

For that reason he said to the waiter: “Even though they look innocent, I still don't have my care keys, even. Can you understand that it's probably she who stole them.” He pointed at one of the girls. “If not, then it's probably her sister, but I wouldn't know who very easily!”

The waiter examined him again. But this time he chose to believe him. “Okay,” he said, “I'll call the cops and tell them a young man has probably been pick-pocketed by some youngsters who act innocent, but who do steal cars, even, as it seems.”

Relieved, Donald thanked the man, who said that it was nothing to thank him for; he just did his duty, and that now that he believed him he should get the help they, the police, can give him.

When the police arrived the waiter and Donald and a few others who had been there described the three youngsters. Even the woman who had taken their part initially described them fairly thoroughly and called them rascals, of whom she had thought better but now realized even they could be totally guilty although looking innocent.

Donald gave a description of the three as dark-haired, fairly dark-skinned but not too obviously southern. He said they somehow matched his idea about how robbers who might kill during their robberies might look. At the same time, though, he said, they seemed to him to pretend to be innocent so thoroughly that for seeming it they might have to alienate themselves from all that they're doing.

Two weeks later, the police had caught two guys and two girls who seemed to match those criteria and a few others of those who had given evidence or so about them. The two girls and one of the boys did seem to Donald to be those who seemingly stole both his wallet and his car keys. The forth boy was, the police said, an accomplice who wasn't at the scene of that crime, but whom they had caught red-handed, while robbing someone else.

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