The Thief

The Thief

         “Who’s at the door?”
         “I don’t know. Open it.”
         “Hi... uhh, officers, what’s up?”
         “Mr. Emil Dorset?”
         “Yes, ma’am, what’s up?”
         “You’ll have to come with us.”
         “Come with you? Why?”
         “A complaint’s been filed and we have questions.”
         “But... I haven’t... what?”
         “We can get it all cleared up at the station.”
         “What’s the complaint for?”
         “Theft. Officer Pittsfield will accompany you to get shoes and whatever else you need, but you must come with us.”
         “I haven’t stolen anything! Jesus, I’m not a thief!”
         “The complaint’s been filed and has to be cleared. You’ll tell your side and most likely be home tonight.”
         “Most likely... tonight? Horse shit! I haven’t done anything!”
         “No swearing, profanity will get you cuffed.”
         “This will get someone punched in the nose.”
         “Threatening an officer—.”
         “I wasn’t threatening you.”
         “Threats of any kind will be—.”
         “Okay, I retract it. Gail? Honey? I have to go, put my truck in the garage.”
         “Hi, Dianne... Stacy.”
         “What... wait a minute! You know them?”
         “They’re in my book club and when I told them about my problem we worked out this little charade.”
         “Told them... what problem?”
         “You steal my narratives. Whenever I start describing something from my past you jump in with something all about you so it becomes YOUR story. It’s NOT your story! It’s MINE! You can tell yours when I’m finished. I’ve told you multiple times I’ve been putting up with it all my life and I’m tired of it. I will not tolerate it any more.”
         “But... honey, I’m sorry I—.”
         “Sorry won’t hack it any more. I love you, but I swear I’ll leave you if you don’t stop. Thanks, guys, I think the point’s been made. See you Tuesday at the meeting.”