Wrath

When he came out of the shop his car was gone.
He had only been in the shop a few, short minutes buying a box of candles. It was in no way an expensive car, there was nothing fancy about it at all. However, the thought that it was this particular car that had been stolen troubled him greatly. He decided to make no mention of the incident to the shopkeeper, and being only a short distance from his home, he decided to walk there and consider what he should do about it as he went. By the time he arrived, he had reluctantly made up his mind to report the matter to the police in the morning. For a man in his position, this was going to be a hard thing to do.
Meanwhile, the two boys that had taken the car and spent an hour joyriding around the outskirts of the town, finally tired of it. They were in the process of dumping the vehicle somewhere, just a short distance from the road, so that it could be found easily. They decided to leave the keys in the ignition, where they found them. Thinking about fingerprints they were wiping things down when the older boy, the one that had done all the driving, noticed something white in the foot well in the back. When he picked it up, he swore. He went to the glove box and found the car papers. His friend asked him what he was doing. He held up the collar.

“What’s that?” asked the other.
“A priest’s collar, of course; and these,” he waved them, “are the car papers. Look at the name.”
“That’s…”
“Yes. That’s the priest, that’s our priest, from the church we both go to.”
The younger one’s eyes began to tear up. With a tremble in his voice, he said, “What are we going to do?”
“Fix it!”
They both fell silent. The older boy said, “I can’t help thinking about those recent lessons.”
“What lessens?”
“Bible lessons. The one about God pouring out his wrath with fiery anger and bringing it down on their heads!”
After calming the youngster, the older boy explained what he had to do. He drove to a nearby town where he drew out money from his savings account, went to a petrol station and filled the tank, put the vehicle through a car wash and drove back. They sat waiting until it was almost dark, then, as silently as possible they parked it a few doors from the vicar’s house.
It had a simple note under the wiper. It read: ‘Sorry! Car cleaned with full tank.’

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