Something Stolen
By Donald Jones
The knife was a beauty, made by the Case Knife company. It was a Buffalo Bill Skinner, with a 9 inch blade. There was a scene of a buffalo hunt etched on one side of the blade. It had a large brass guard with a stage horn handle and a silver pummel. It was collectors knife. The moment I saw it in the dealers case, I knew I had to have it. It cost in 1970 $45.00, which I gladly paid with out hesitation. As I walked to the car I took out the knife to admire it. I put it in the glove box of the car and locked it. Then drove to visit my girl friend.
We spent the evening playing cards with another couple that lived in the same apartment complex. After the evening ended I went down to my car. It was parked in the middle of the parking lot under a street lamp. I took out my keys and opened the car door and sat down. Immediately I noticed the glove box was open. The knife was gone. I had left the other side of the car unlocked. Anger started to rise from deep inside me. The feeling of being violated began to over whelm me. There was no one about. The intruders were gone. Setting there for several minutes contemplating what I was feeling. The urge to hit someone and get even filled me with a sense of rage. The feeling began to subside as I realized their was no one to unleash my feelings on. I started the car and drove home remembering the knife in all its beauty. Letting it go from my thoughts I satisfied myself with a promise, “O well,” I said to myself, “ I’ll just get another one next payday“. By the time I got home I had put the knife and the anger out of my thoughts and went to bed.
A week later I went back to the store to get another knife and was told that was the only one they had, and could not get it anymore. Indeed it was a collectors item. Lost to my reach forever to taunt me with the thought, never leave anything that you treasure in your car.