I get up early. I sit on the porch in the dark and watch as stars fade and light fills the city. It's my chosen time to brood and imagine how my day might unfold.
This morning, before the caffeine kicked in, I sat on the porch, too groggy to reflect before acting, while a nicely groomed young man walked down the street. He was slim, wore tight, dark clothes, had a compact backpack, and moved with the silent grace of a cat.
I watched him. He wore a head lamp that he turned on and off; he slipped through shadows toward cars parked in front of the house. He shone the light through driver's windows and tried the doors as he moved with practiced efficiency toward my little truck.
My truck has been stolen before. It's an "easy mark" as the cops put it. Just jam a screw driver into to the ignition, turn it, and you're off to the races. Plus it's a four-wheel-drive, perfect for drug and human smuggling down by the border. It has seen some real action.
I watch as the shadow pauses on the other side of the truck, shines a light in, and jimmies the door. It opens and the dome light goes on.
Now, if I were half awake, or had two brain cells to rub together, I should have silently approached the truck and caught him in the act, but I am not one to decline my rage at being ripped off again.
I stood and marched toward the truck with a "What the f*$K are you doing?" already booming from my insulted, violated self that has never quite resolved all the thefts and insults from past robberies.
The figure was cool, so cool.
"What are you talking about, man?"
"That's my truck. You just opened the door..." heart running faster than I could think.
"It was open, dude; I was just closing it," he said, voice as greasy and slick as Vaseline as he backed away. "I'm doing you a favor, bro."
He was already fifty feet away and turning into the alley.
I was stopped in my tracks by doubt. This guy was just a nice guy doing doing community service at 5:30 in the morning. I should be embarrassed for confronting him.
And then he was gone.
I tried to follow but he had slipped already into the darkness.
Should I call the cops? Should I get some kind if weapon and go searching for him?
I was bound by confusion.
He had won.
