Wednesday, 25 February 2009

Guilty until proven innocent

This story is for Henry Kingsford. He likes his blog updates served up for him in the early morning so he has something to entertain him first thing. I'm going to pen a story from last night, wait until he's asleep and post it so I can retire for the night myself. I understand the point Henry is making, I'm just not sure my schedule can facilitate his request. Lets aim to please once a week and go from there. Here comes morning tea break update number one.

After one of his regular visits Shier's stay had come to an end once again so we went for a few local beers after work. The usual suspects were out. There was even a sniff of free booze on the horizon, that promise always causes more than a few coffin lids to creak open. We were in our friendly local house of darts and cheap pints and there was a healthy group of us. Dan and myself went to stand out the front in the street to smoke.
We were a stones throw away from the building which blessed you with those views of London from above in my last post. Directly opposite where we were standing is a building site, the skeletons of many new towers already reach into the sky behind a long wall of hoarding. We weren't looking at the builders progress but a road is all that separated us from it. Something soon caught our attention. Two tall youths a little younger than us ran up to the main piece of hoarding. 'Oi! Oi! Here!" one of them shouted down the street, his voice directed at someone on the other side of a parked coach. Moments later two smaller youths ran up and joined them. I just realised I'm using the term youth fairly liberally here and that I'm not as young as I used to be either. Lets say they were mid twenties.
As soon as the other two had joined them a heated discussion took place. One of the taller ones jumped up and clambered enough to get a view over the top. "it's okay" I heard from where we stood. Then something magical and obviously planned happened. The tallest one gave a board a little less than a foot high which sat between the elevated hoarding gate and the floor a firm shove in the corner. The piece of wood fell down. The smallest one hurriedly took off his jacket, jumped to the floor and Indian Jones'd his way under the gap with a roll. His small friend followed. Meanwhile the other two were anxiously keeping dog, one checking one end of the street while the other busied himself in the other direction. A few shouts came from the other side but they weren't audible.
This whole time Dan and myself were discussing what we thought was going on. It was a quick operation. When I first saw the wood drop and the gap appear I thought maybe this was a stash spot of some kind. Perhaps they were collecting some heat they'd deposited for safe keeping. I soon decided it was far too elaborate for that to be the case. They were going in there with a purpose, a one off chance. Power tools was my next hunch, they were going to roll out any second with a grip of power tools. We had a few ideas. Our cigarettes finished, we waited impressed by their speed and stealth and intrigued as to what their booty was going to be.
A noise of definite glee was heard from the other side. "He's got it!" "Yes!" One body rolled through the gap closely followed by the other. The crime partner who'd created the gap quickly replaced the wood. Relief. They had got over. The first one through the gap held his motivation above his head. It was a miniature foam Nerf American football. They all high fived and moved off quickly up the road. I don't even have the Wire to blame for my suspicion because I'm yet to start watching it. Perhaps an over active imagination is okay though, at least the mundane becomes exciting for a second. This tale even has a happy ending-they got their ball back!

No comments: