Written December 26, 2019

A leaf drifted down in wide scoops until it rested on the water. It sank into its silvery surface and filled up like a flaking gold chalice. Slowly, the leaf was submerged and became part of the glimmering river.

Vera saw all of this. She thought it so beautiful that she stopped to admire the sight and wondered why a crowd of people hadn’t gathered to watch with her. She was thirty years old, but sights like these still managed to capture her soul and melt it like putty.

For an odd reason that she could not determine, she thought how it was all so fragile. We are all autumn leaves resting on water, waiting to sink in and embrace our destinies.

She made her way home with this thought lurking next to her as her shadow, flowing stealthily over the pavement of the sidewalk and the dewy grass. 

Vera’s eyes absorbed the universe with methodical measures. Whenever she looked at something, it seemed as if she were taking cautious bites out of it, then digesting it as she squinted and examined it further. This is what she did now as she walked with hands embedded in her pockets. Her eyes were like small universes themselves, so reflective, yet consuming everything. 

It was then that those eyes fell on her house. Then that she took one of her cautious bites and tasted something foul. The house exterior was silent and still, but this was what concerned her. It was as if Vera were staring into the face of a friend who was almost certainly concealing something, for they were smiling so emphatically that it was fake.

Vera reached her doorstep. The door handle was broken, and the door itself was hanging freely on its hinges, swaying back and forth. The encroaching thought on her mind became obvious. She had been robbed.

• • •

She had done the sensible thing. She had not jumped to conclusions; she had examined her house further, and she came to one logically. Yes, she had been robbed. So she called the police. She sat on her doorstep as they followed their procedures, allowing herself to become hypnotized by the flashing red and blue lights that pierced the dully-colored surroundings.

With Vera’s assistance, the police came up with a list of what had been stolen. Two faux-leather purses, one digital watch, a microwave, a laptop, a set of paintbrushes, and a waterproof speaker.

The police questioned the neighbors. 

Did you see an individual you did not recognize enter the house of Miss Vera Sanford?

Yes. I saw a man dressed as a mail delivery person pull up to her house. I turned away for a few minutes, and the next time I looked I saw that he seemed to have disappeared. I turned away again, turned back, and saw that he had reappeared, this time carrying a relatively large box. 

A box? 

Yes, a box. 

Do you have an idea of what was in this box? 

No, none. Why would I?

What happened after he took the box?

Nothing, he drove away.

Thank you Mr. So-and-So. Have a pleasant day Mrs. Someone.

Glad to have been of some help.

And on like this it went until the police reassured her that they would do everything they could to find her possessions. Thank you. Goodbye. Have a nice day.

In the end, Vera did not know what she hoped to accomplish. She didn’t really care if her possessions were found.

She wandered to her bedroom and fiddled with the objects the thief had deemed unworthy for whatever purpose he would want them for. She paused suddenly. Not quite frantically, Vera lifted several things off of her dresser in search of something. She was sure it was gone. She stopped to think about what she should do. Not call the police again. The object was unnecessary, not like a microwave. And it wasn’t worth anything like a speaker was. Once again, Vera did the sensible thing. This time that was to do nothing. 

The missing object was a token of her childhood. Something her parents had given her on her sixth birthday. It was a string necklace with a single charm—a yin and yang symbol. It was a pity the thief had taken it, but nothing more. What was more was the fact that he had chosen to take something that wasn’t necessary, wasn’t valuable. It was this that slowly began to nag Vera. Perhaps he had a daughter to whom he would gift it? A wife? And what if he didn’t? Besides,  what thief would have a daughter? What woman would marry a thief? Lots would, Vera answered herself. 

Vera had an abrupt urge to know who this man was, what he looked like. But she was overreacting, she had probably lost the thing somewhere. It had almost certainly fallen into a dusty gap between some furniture. All she had to do was look.

• • •

She found herself in the park again. The one with drifting leaves. It was a good place to think. To look and watch and appreciate things as they were. Vera realized the untruth of that thought. There she was, sitting in a park with meticulously manicured bushes and trees, thinking that everything was “as it was.” It seemed that even the twigs were told how to break and where to fall. So no, things were never as they were. Not even thieves, Vera thought.

She felt someone’s eyes watching her, and turned around. It was a man. He was tall and lanky. As he began to walk, Vera noticed that his stride did not seem to belong to him. It should have belonged to a robust man, with wide shoulders and strong, sturdy legs. Perhaps he was in disguise. 

Now the man was standing before her.

“Would you like to sit down?” Vera reprimanded herself internally. The sentence was much too long and much too inviting to be uttered from the mouth of a stranger directed to a stranger. 

“As a matter of fact, I would. Thank you,” the man answered. He sat down.

Vera felt better. The man’s reply was just as incorrect in tone as her question, so this made neither person incorrect.

There was a period of silence between them. Was it between them? Yes, she decided. It was not just a normal silence, but one shared between two people. Both were searching for things to say that they could not find.

The man did the sensible thing this time. He was the first to speak. “You don’t know me.”

“That’s right,” Vera said.

“I know you.”

“Really?” Vera asked, wondering how this could be true.

“I robbed you.”

The man said this so casually that it was not the statement itself that threw Vera off, but the manner with which he made it. She felt she should stand up, but then asked herself why she would. She resolved to remain seated. 

Vera felt she should make a remark as equally nonsensical. “Why?”

When the man did not respond, Vera studied his face for the first time. It looked young, but she did not trust this as evidence of his age. He had sandy hair that went in various different directions, but somehow did not look like it was in disarray. His features were strong and  needlessly unyielding, as if they feared someone might attempt to shift them around. 

Vera decided to put pressure. “I don’t think the question was unfair.”

“No, it wasn’t. I would ask the same thing if I were you. I’ll answer. I robbed you for the usual reason. There aren’t that many reasons to rob someone. Not that I can think of, at least.” The man sighed, and Vera did not know why.

“I probably shouldn’t be talking to you. I should call the police.”

“You should, but I don’t think you will.” The man fished for something in his pocket. “I don’t know why I took this.” He held the object out. It was the yin and yang symbol necklace.

“I was looking for this! I thought you might have taken it.”

“Well, I did. There was something about it. Something that made me think.”

“About what?” Vera was truly curious about how her little worthless necklace could have tapped some nerve of spiritualism in a thief.

“About people. Me. Both, maybe. I don’t know. All I do know is that this isn’t who I am. I don’t feel like a thief. I was raised the same as anybody, so what’s wrong with me?”

“What is wrong with you?” Again, Vera really wanted to know.

“The same thing that’s wrong with everyone else. I have two sides. I have my thieving side, and I have the side that wants to travel the world—seeing new places, meeting new people. That’s what life is for, isn’t it?”

“I guess. But why would you want to meet more people if they’re all the same? If they all have two sides? There’s no escape from that.”

“Because maybe I’ll meet someone who can tell my why they have two sides.”

“How will you know which side is talking?”

The man laughed. “I won’t, you’re right. But maybe whatever that person says will make my two sides fuse.” He looked down at the necklace.

Vera took a moment to breath in air that millions before her breathed, and millions after her would breath. She thought about all of those people trying to unite their two sides. They were all just chasing themselves like a dog chasing its tail. 

“Maybe all you need is a little of one side in the other. Like yin and yang,” said Vera.

The man looked up at her and smiled. “Which of your sides said that?”

With that, he handed the necklace to Vera and walked away, steadily being absorbed by the silvery surface of the water like an autumn leaf.

The Thief © Safira Schiowitz