2626D. A memorable event – Part 4

(continued…)

In the morning the boy’s father called in with my clothes (all neatly folded). The boy had the flu and had got delirious. He escaped out the toilet window and with the rain and river thought that the events had actually happened – which is why he was so believable.

The Armed Defenders had surrounded the house. The parents came to the door. It took the poor fellow a year or so to get used to what had happened.

Years later I bumped into him on some street steps in Wellington (New Zealand’s capital city). He owned and ran a popular lunch restaurant in the heart of the city’s business area. We chatted and he gave me the recipe of his most popular lunch soup recipe – which I still sometimes use to this day!

He then invited me to dinner at his home with his wife and children – and a good time was had by all! We sort of lost touch over the years, and haven’t “bumped into each other” for maybe a quarter of a century. So Carl, if you ever read this…

The End

2626C. A memorable event – Part 3

(continued…)

I phoned the police. Two policemen came and interviewed him. They too drove to the house and came back. They then called the “Armed Defenders Squad”. (In New Zealand the Police don’t carry guns, but when there is a need such as this the highly trained Armed Defenders step in.)

The police took the boy away. I did not know for the rest of the night what had happened.

(To be continued…Finale tomorrow)

2626B. A memorable event – Part 2

(continued…)

I leapt out of bed. My heart stopped. To this day I’m quite pleased with my reaction. I handed him a towel and said, “Well don’t stand there all wet. Dry yourself.” He was about my size so I found him some clothes.

He explained what happened.  He had gone to the bathroom in the night. While he was there the voices of men (it sounded like two of them) were shouting at his parents in their bedroom. Then there were gunshots. They started yelling for him to come out. The toilet had a louvered window. The boy squeezed himself out. He ran through the rain towards the river – the area of which was unhoused. The river was slightly in flood. He waded up the river towards school and came into my room. Naturally he was upset.

We got in a car and drove to his house (I have no clue why). No lights were on in the house. There were tall poplar tree swaying in the wind. It was dark and threatening. We drove back to school.

(To be continued…)

2626A. A memorable event – Part 1

Story Number 2626 is an interesting enough number to deviate from fiction into truth – as is customary on this blog! Today’s story is about what could be one of the more memorable things that has happened to me!

I was a teacher and house master at a large boarding school for boys – mainly sons of farmers from isolated areas, but the school had some local day students as well. The dormitory area of my responsibility catered for about 120 sixteen year old young men.

It was in fact a dark and stormy night. I was fast asleep and at about 2 in the morning my door opened, the light was switched on, and a boy appeared in his pyjamas covered in mud from top to bottom. He wasn’t from my dormitory, but was a day student who lived with his parents about a mile away. He said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but my parents have just been shot.”

 (To be continued…)

2572. A lonely day

The Police Officer knocked on Mason’s door.

Come in, Officer. Come in. Take a seat. To be honest, today has been the loneliest day of my life. My wife left me – permanently she said – around 9.30 this morning. Walked  out. Just like that. As far as I can ascertain she didn’t even take a change of clothes. A car – I don’t have a clue whose it was – pulled up at the curb. Iris got in and the car drove off. That is all I know.

After she had gone I didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t had breakfast so I had breakfast. Of course I didn’t eat much as I wasn’t hungry, but they say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so I had a couple of pieces of toast with marmalade. Actually only one had marmalade. I had honey on the second one.

I then walked down the street with her bankcard. She didn’t take it, but I wanted to check if she had used it and maybe we could find out where she had gone to. When I checked on the card all the money had been taken out. Not a dime left. Obviously she had planned to leave me. I knew the bank teller, and she told me that the money had been taken out yesterday.

Yes, Officer. I’d be happy for you to make a report for a missing person, although she left freely and I suppose it is a bit of a misnomer to call her missing. A walked-out walked-off report would be better, if you make such a thing.

Thank you for coming around Officer. May I see you to the door?

The Officer left. Thank goodness he didn’t think to  look under the bed.

2554. Dylan self-combusts

Leah wasn’t at all surprised when her husband, Dylan, self-combusted. They had not long finished dinner and were sitting in armchairs watching an old episode of “I Love Lucy”. Leah mentioned that such an episode would never appear on television now because some of the characters were smoking cigarettes. Dylan said “That’s stupid. That makes me really angry” and then he self-combusted.

POOF! and there was left only a little pile of ash on the armchair. Leah had a difficult time explaining to the police exactly what had happened. Police Officer Plod said he thought self-combustion was a little bit unusual. In fact in his thirty-five years in the police force he’d never encountered it before. Leah looked at the little pile of ash on the armchair. She couldn’t believe it.

“It was like one of those electric car batteries in Florida that got wet and exploded,” said Leah. But Police Officer Plod didn’t have a clue what she was talking about because he never watched the News. “The electric car batteries got wet in the hurricane and exploded,” said Leah before realizing that her analogy wasn’t really helpful, and besides, Dylan’s self-combustion wasn’t anything like a 15 to 20 thousand dollar electric car battery exploding in the wet. “What are we meant to do with these ashes?” bemoaned Leah.

Police Officer Plod got a dustpan and brush. “Look Leah, we usually cannot ignore the fact that a husband has disappeared. I’m going to make an exception. In this case we shall simply sweep it under the carpet.”

The next day Leah and Police Officer Plod got married.

2281. A cunning murderer

There is a secret meeting tonight and I have to be there. I know what it’s about, although I’m not supposed to know but a policeman told me. I often work for the police as a freelance detective. There’s been a series of murders locally. The seven victims seem to be done in by the same guy as the murders are almost identical: stabbed in the chest by a paper knife used to open envelops.

The meeting is secret so as not to draw attention to the fact that they closing in on a suspect. They don’t want the suspect to know. It’s hilarious. I know they’re not closing in on a suspect because it wasn’t a paper knife used in the murders; it was a screwdriver. And they are looking for a short guy and I’m 6 foot 2.

Anyway I’m on my way to the meeting and will hopefully muddle the trail even further. Here I am now! What’s this? What’s this, Officer? I’m under arrest for what?

2237. Island stash

We didn’t even tell our wives. In fact we told them a little fib. Arnie, Tom and I told our wives that we were driving into the country to a farm where they brewed malt beer and we wanted to learn how to do it. We wouldn’t be back until evening.

But that wasn’t our plan at all. We had just bought a small boat in common and apparently it was meant to get inspected and registered. We were dying to try the boat out but our wives hadn’t been told as yet.  We thought, unregistered or not, we’d take the boat for a little secret spin to the island. It was an uninhabited island full of nesting sea birds and seals.

To cut to the chase we tied our boat up at the island – there was an old rickety wharf there from a bygone era – and went exploring a bit. When we returned our tied-up boat had sunk and there was another boat moored behind it.

At least we should be able to hitch a ride. There was no one there that we could see. The next thing we had three rifles pointing at us, with three masked men, and we were taken to a cave on the island – about 100 yards from the shore. We were hand cuffed. I’ve never seen so many guns in my life. Stacks and stacks of guns. Stashes of ammunition and grenades. And so on.

We said we wouldn’t tell anyone if we were taken back to the main land. And they said they would take us back and we’d get shot if we ever spilt the beans. Then half way on the return trip Arnie and Tom got into an argument with one of the pirates – or whatever they were. Arnie and Tom were shot dead just like that in the head and I was shitting myself. When we were about 200 yards from shore they threw me overboard and start firing a gun at me. So I lay there like I was dead and they moved away.

I drifted to the shore – sort of. I’m only an average swimmer but got lucky this time.

The police have never been able to ascertain whose boat it was and who those men were. When the police went to the cave there were no guns there. The place had been cleared out. The police chief reckons I was probably lying about the guns. He said I was nuts. He said he’s watching me.

I’m not saying anything, I’m not saying a damn thing to anyone, but the police chief looks remarkably like one of the men.

2011. Visiting an aunt

Let me tell you about my aunt. Her name is April. One day I decided to visit her, so I went to the train station to buy a ticket.

When I was lining up to buy a ticket a plumpish lady pushed past me in the line and said, “Get out of my way, you wheezy little wimp.”

To be honest, I saw red and retorted with, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

The man in the line behind me said “That’s no way to talk to a lady” and I said “Zip it, Sweet Pea”, whereupon he punched me on the jaw. I wasn’t taking that sitting down so I punched back. We got into a huge fight; in fact the whole queue of people got into a huge fight; in fact the whole railway station got into a huge fight. And half the people fighting didn’t even know what they were fighting about.

After a few minutes the police came, and I got arrested and taken away, so I don’t know how the incident ended. I got put in a room (I suppose it was a cell – I’m not sure what the inside of a cell looks like) and told to wait. I reckon I waited about two hours. When this woman eventually appeared I said, “Look, I think I lost my wallet in the scuffle,” and she said “Who cares? It’s your own fault. Shut up and show us some ID.”

I said “All my ID is in my wallet, you dumb cow,” and she stormed out saying “Wait here.”

Well I reckon I waited two more hours and then a policeman turned up and I said I needed to go to the bathroom, and he said “You’ll have a place to pee soon enough” and asked for my ID. I told him about my wallet and he said the same as the woman: “Who cares? It’s your own fault.”

He then asked if I could phone someone who could verify who I was and I said I lived alone and didn’t know anyone in town because I was relatively new here. So he said, well where did you used to live? And I said that I used to live with my Aunt April. The policeman said, “What is your Aunt April’s name,” and I said “It’s April you nincompoop. I just told you. You don’t know diddlysquat. ” And he said well he couldn’t contact everyone in the world called April. She must have another name, and I told him it was none of his business. I don’t have a right to be handing out people’s names willy-nilly.

The policeman said, “Wait here” and left. I tried all the doors and they were all locked except one and that was a toilet thank goodness. The policeman reappeared again and said the same thing, “Wait here.” And that’s what I’ve been doing these last two or more hours; waiting. I guess I won’t be visiting my aunt today.

1822. You’re under arrest

“You’re under arrest,” said Ms. Plod the Policewoman.

The all-powerful Chairperson of the country had issued a decree making it compulsory for everyone to cover their face with a mask. Here was a group of three people not wearing such a mask.

“You’re under arrest,” repeated Ms. Plod the Policewoman.

“We’re just grabbing a bit of healthy sunshine,” they replied. “What’s wrong with that?”

Ms. Plod the Policewoman looked down. She was a little embarrassed. What a silly thing it was to have been instructed to go about arresting people not wearing a mask.

The three under arrest offered no resistance. Thank goodness for that! It was always difficult putting handcuffs on more than one person if they objected. Especially if she was working alone. The Chairperson of the country had decreed that every member of the police force must arrest at least six people a day for not wearing a mask. Six! That is why Ms. Plod the Policewoman was doing the job wearing the same as everyone else, as a civilian, incognito, so as to catch people by surprise.

Fortunately Ms. Plod the Policewoman was adept at quickly reaching the daily quota.

“You’re under arrest,” she’d say. Generally speaking these three guys in the nudist colony were a pretty docile bunch.