Friday, July 22, 2016

Isn't That Called Breaking and Entering? (Old Lady Burglar)

Thoughts of being in jail crossed my mind as I
listened to Ruthie on the phone. I look awful
in orange and had to interject, "Um, Ruthie,
isn't that called Breaking and Entering?"
To which she replied, "You just told me they
are tearing down all those houses near you kid!"
I'm not known for good judgement but at
seventy-five I trusted her. At least she had
lived a long time and that showed some smarts.
Ruthie pulled up in front of my house in her gutless
little pale blue Ford Tempo and got out wearing
an outfit identical to Emma Peel's in The Avengers.
I went out in jeans and boots & an old flannel shirt
and greeted her and nodded at the house next door.
We looked all around and crept to the back door
of the vacant house. I pulled out my masking tape
and made a little square on the glass of the back door.
Ruthie's eyes widened and she whispered loudly,
"Whatrya doin there kid?" I tapped on the glass
with a heavy pair of pliers and the square fell out.
"I saw a burglar do this on Rockford Files one time."
I reached in and unlocked the door and we crept
into the musty vacant house. "Look at all this
treasure kid!" Ruthie exclaimed as she saw
intact light bulbs and light plates. We crept up
the creaky old stairs and she filled up her pillow case
with moldy magazines as excited as a kid trick-or-treating.
We non-chalantly walked back to my house and she placed the bag
in the back seat of her car. She smiled at me
and gripped my arm with her long, claw-like nails
digging into me. Her eyes blazed with greed as
she gave me a squeeze and said, "I'm ready for
that old barn now." She took another pillow case
from her car and we walked casually along 175th
towards the Kenmore club house. The four little empty
ramblers looked dark and forlorn.
We went down the long driveway to the huge white barn
nestled down in the swamp and my skin started crawling.
We slipped inside the open door and went about
ten feet before I tripped on a piece of wood
on the floor. A eerie scratching noise above us started
and then rats began to fall from the old hayloft
in clumps, raining down all around us.
We both started shrieking and running and that
ended our life of crime.








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