Wednesday, 12 November 2014

A SHADY BUSINESS


In fact, Javier’s impression was not so crazy. Last week we were talking about the last mobile phone I was stolen in Blanquerna street at the beginning of October and he said:  “Either you are too absent minded or there’s someone following you around”.

Today, I came five minutes in advance to some student’s home. Thus, I was not surprised when nobody answered the entry phone. I was about to rang again when someone approached. It was a guy in his early twenties, about six feet tall, dark bearded, with thick, well trimmed moustache and hair and big, black eyes. The boy stand in front of the entry door in haste and tried to push it. I stand back and I did not call the entry phone anymore.

-          Aren’t you going to open? – he said

-          Sorry, I haven’t got a key.

-          Don’t you live here?

-          No, I don’t – I replied.

-          I am the neighboor of the first floor. I’ve been with that lady who lives on the second. An old lady...

-          An old lady..?

-          Yeah, well... compared to me, she is old. She might be about thirty-six. He told me to hurry up and tell you that we had to take the child to the hospital rather urgently. She told me: go and tell LUISA... because your name is LUISA, isn’t it? ... She told me: tell her to buy the medicine for the girl. She needs it desperately.

As soon as he told my name, the story began to have authenticity.


-          So... she told me to ask you to go to the pharmacy and buy the medicine.

-          You mean that she wanted me to go to the pharmacy...

-          Either you or I... but I need the twenty euros to buy the medicine.

Coincidentally, I didn’t carry any cash. This has always been the case, since I was a child... a result of my ow personality, I suppose. The young man insisted:

- I have ten euros. If you lent me ten, I would buy it.

- But I haven’t any money – I answered.

He then suggested to go to the bank and take out the money. More specifically, he mentioned the financial institution I work with and urged me to go there. That was the moment when I came to the conclussion that I didn’t like the young boy at all. I went back home, riding my “two-wheeler”, which was tied to the bicycle parking space on Blanquerna street.

The children’s mother confirmed later that the story told by the young man was absolutely false. Of course, I denounced the fact to the police station.


 



Copyright Luisa Fernández Baladrón





 


 

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