A Simple History In Town

Chapter 2

I dropped the file on my office, took a pencil out of the hundreds I have, put my notepad in my bag and then rushed outside to my car. I entered, put my seatbelt on and threw my bag on the front seat.

The "voyage" lasted at least twenty minutes. Even if it was long, it was pleasant. Because of my rush in the morning, I didn't even notice that it was a sunny summer day. I never pay attention to those things because I really have a bad memory of arriving late at work. It was my first day and, as I said, I arrived late, so the Sheriff gave me all the documents he had to refill, and I can tell you there were a lot. From that day forth I was always punctual, not a single minute or second late.

On my way to Mrs. Huston's house I also noticed a dog walking alone on the street. He was thin and his fur was a dirty white. We could distinguish, by the color of his eyes, that he was blind. He also had a part of his tail cut and he seemed ill. He was probably being abused and then abandoned.

I always thought of having a dog, if I did have one, I would give him an English name like Winnifred or Walton. Unfortunately, it's too much responsibilities for me. Maybe I can have one when I am retired.

When I arrived at Abemond street a lot of memories of when I was a kid came back. I remember playing with Marcos, a friend of mine, pretending to be pirates robbing treasures when in fact, we just knocked at the doors of the neighbors and asked them some candies. Mrs. Huston was one of those neighbours. She is very nice and charitable, she is the perfect old woman. Sometimes, she would invite us to have some tea with her and talk to us about her everyday problems. After her husband's death, she wasn't grieving. She said that she understood the cycle of life and that death was part of it, that she had to accept the fact that her husband was dead. After that period of her life, I stopped visiting her and just assumed she got over it.

I knocked at her door and heard someone say with a used voice "I'm coming!". Mrs. Huston took one minute to, at last, open the door that separated her and me. Meanwhile this minute passed I saw that the old panel "Welcome" was still there.

When the door opened I saw the little woman with a pale pink dress, standing in front of me. It was Mrs. Hutson. It took me thirty seconds to realize that she shrinked. "Oh, Patrick!, she exclaimed, how are you doing?"

"I am fine, thank you. How are you doing?"

"Very well. Enter, enter, do not stay outside."

I entered and observed that the decoration didn't change at all. The yellowish wallpaper was still there and the cracked floor too.

"I assume you are here for the missing watch" she said while taking me to the living room.

"Yes. I am" I confirmed.

We sat on the sofas that were around the coffee table. The tea was already served with some cookies. Then I started asking her some questions about the circumstances in which the watch was stolen.

"I was doing my daily walk on sunday, and this time I didn't take with me the watch for friday. I bought these new machines that everyone has. It tells you the time, you can call everyone with it and send digital letters, it is very practical. But when I came back home I noticed that the watch wasn't there anymore. It had disappeared! So I tried to call the police station but unfortunately it was Sunday, so no one was at the station. I waited until Monday morning to announce that my heritage had been stolen. I was so worried, that I couldn't sleep at all. The fact that my only reminder of my husband was gone made me want to upchuck."

"Sorry, did you say upchuck?"

"Yes, I certainly did."

"Excuse me,but, what does upchuck mean?"

"Upchuck is the act of throwing out green or orange substance, that was originally food, out of your mouth." she explained.

"Oh! You mean puke."

"Yes! Puke."

After this conversation, I left with a new word in my vocabulary.

I went outside,and looked around me to see if anyone was there.Then I walked back to my car. But it wasn't there anymore. I was desperate, I stood where I was and saw a panel saying that the parking lots were private and that if someone who didn't own a parking lot was to station his car there, the car would be taken to the police station.

I took my new phone out, and called my boss.

"Boss, are you there?" I asked with an embarrassed voice.

"Who's this?"asked the sheriff with a usual low voice.

"It's me, Patrick"

"What do you want Patrick?"

" Well, I have a problem and wanted to know if you could drive me back to the station."

"Why would you want me to drive you back?"

"Because I didn't read a panel saying that the parking lots were private"
"Don't you know how to read?" he said with a voice full of anger.

"Yes I do, but--"

"They are no buts. Now for not having read the panel you are going back to the station by foot." He interrupted me.

"Please!" But he had already hung up.

I went back to the place where my car was originally parked and sat on the bench that stood in front of the empty spot. I observed the urban streets.