Gerbil

The girl was busy in the kitchen of her ground floor apartment, when she heard a commotion from outside.

She went to the front and peered out into the street. Nothing. Only the crusty old woman opposite staring across at her. She felt like poking her tongue out, but she didn’t. Instead, she went back to chopping onions. About half-an-hour had past and she was about to set the oven for baking when her front door bell rang. On opening the door she was surprised to see a police constable.

His greeting was curt. “Good morning, miss.”

He held a tiny creature in gloved hands. She stared at it. Two pathetic looking eyes stared up at her with heartbreaking innocence. It was trembling. It looked positively nervous. She felt a strong wave of emotion run through her. It was probably the intimidating presence of the policeman in his stand-out uniform and his stern features that made her blurt it out. “What is it?”

He frowned. “Well, I’m given to understand that it’s a gerbil.”

“A what?”

“A gerbil, miss.”

She smiled down at it and purred, “How cute.”

The policeman stiffened. “I should inform you that there has been a serious incident.”

Her heart thumped. “Oh?”

“From what we’ve gathered, about an hour ago this animal ran across the street a short distance up from here, causing a young boy riding his bicycle to swerve violently into the path of an oncoming vehicle.”

“Oh! That’s awful!”

“Quite right, miss. As it happens, the boy was not badly hurt. He was taken to hospital, where he is being treated for minor scrapes and bruises.”

“Thank goodness.”

The constable went on. “However, the vehicle, owned by a local building company, careered wildly to the end of the street entering the junction with the main road, where it collided with two vehicles and tipped over, dropping its load of sand.”

Her hand flew to her mouth.

He turned his head. “Although not visible from here, I can assure you that this has created havoc up there at the main road.”

She looked back down at the cute little face with its ginger fluff and quivering whiskers. She said, “And you’re telling me all this, because?”

“Yes, well, we have a witness statement from the woman across the road who says she saw this animal crawl out from under your front gate at around ten o’clock this morning.”

“Oh! Really?”

“Yes miss.”

“I wonder where it came from.”

He gave a long sigh. “I take it then miss; you do not own this animal.”

She looked startled by the question. “Mine? No!”

She looked down once more into those pathetic little eyes. She wiped at the tears forming in her own eyes.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Onions,” she said.

“Onions?”

“Yes, I’ve been chopping onions.”

He gave her a queer look, turned slowly and walked away. She went back to her cooking.

That evening she reflected on the strange events of the day. She decided that she simply needed to move on.

She wrapped the little cage with its defective door latch in newspaper and dropped it into the bin, quietly.

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