A thief amongst us

That’s right. There’s a thief amongst us. A low down, no account, dirty little thief. I know it’s hard to believe that someone would actually take something that doesn’t belong to him. But it’s true; it happened to me. Stupid thief — didn’t he know I’d write about it?

In the world of thiefdom, this one was truly daring. He stole something big from my backyard in broad daylight – something really big. When I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh. The thief stole my 14-foot long, 12-foot wide tool shed. Now stop laughing; you promised. Besides, the story gets better.

Yep, good people of this county, be afraid. There’s a thief out there, and he’s stealing tool sheds. It happened when The Wife was at work and I was at the Fire Department. The Boy? Well, I don’t really know where he was. Seems of late he’s never around when I need him.

The neighbor said he watched as someone driving a pickup truck back up my driveway with a big long trailer. He didn’t call the police because he thought it was me. Thirty minutes later, the thief drove off with my tool shed balanced on the back of his trailer. After discovering my shed gone, I called the Sheriff’s Department.

When the deputy arrived at our house, he was very professional. He didn’t laugh when I told him what was stolen. He didn’t laugh when I walked him into the backyard and showed him where my tool shed once stood. He only started to laugh when I told him what I wanted him to do about it.

“I want you to drive up everybody’s driveway in this county. Get out and look in every backyard until you find my tool shed. When you do find it, bring it back.”

He asked me if I wanted to make a report, and I told him that I would probably stop by the Sheriff’s Department the next day. I had to check with my insurance company to see if they covered stolen tool sheds. Besides, I knew he was going to be busy driving around snooping the rest of the night and didn’t want to waste any more of his time. I figure, the sooner he started snooping, the quicker I’d get my tool shed back.

Unfortunately the next day, I still didn’t have my tool shed. So I went to the Sheriff’s Department to fill out a report. I was sent to see the watch commander. Now we’re getting somewhere, I thought. A person called watch commander could surely locate the thief and retrieve my tool shed.

The watch commander didn’t disappoint me. A huge man with not an ounce of fat on him filled the door frame as he walled into the lobby to take my report. Now this is the man to find that thief. And as big as he his, he doesn’t even need a trailer. He could tote my tool shed on his back.

After making him promise that he wouldn’t laugh, the watch commander listened intently as I explained what had transpired two days earlier. His face hardened as he took out a pad and pen to jot down some notes. And just like the other deputy, he was very professional. When I finished my tale of woe, he replaced the pad and pen in his pocket, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, as he nodded his head.

Then he spoke, his deep voice rumbled in his huge chest, “I’ve been to many investigation schools over the years. We have been highly trained in the way the criminal mind operates. From what you just told me, there’s no doubt who did it. I already have a suspect.”

For an instant, my heart leaped. This watch commander was going to get my tool shed back! The long arm of the law was going to snatch another criminal off the streets of our fair county. Our children would once again be able to walk the streets safely without fear of being run over by a tool shed thief.

As the watch commander looked up at me, concern was etched in his face. He cleared his throat, “I believed the thief could be no other than...Down the Street Bully Brad.”

I knew it! My childhood arch nemesis has found me and now has my tool shed! My hopes were dashed as the watch commander flashed a lopsided smile, “I read your column every week. Where do you come up with all those stories?”

Where indeed? I assured him that the stories from Flamingo Street were all true and so were the people I write about. Besides, I can’t make some of that stuff up. Stuff like a stolen tool shed. I’m just not that good of a writer.

The watch commander shook my hand and said I could pick up the report in a couple of days. I told him to keep reading; I might write a story about this whole disturbing incident. Leaving the Sheriff’s Department, I was sure that they would do their best but had little hope of ever seeing my tool shed again. But be aware, Bully Brad, this county’s best law enforcement officers are looking for you. And I’m keeping a wary eye out for you, too.