“I fear that the young man I gave a job to last week is dishonest.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t judge by appearances!”
“I’m not; I’m judging by disappearances in this case.”
There was once a young lad who lived in a town by the harbor. Every morning when he awoke, he looked out his window to hear the bells of the Cathedral chime from a distance, as they did every morning. He found comfort from their familiar sound, always waiting to hear their call at day break. He yawned and stretched and was ready to began his day. He hurriedly dressed, had a quick breakfast and ran out the door.
He whistled down through a group of people, greeting the familiar faces as he passed by. He saw Mrs. Nisbit, the old woman who lost her husband and two sons during the First war. She lived alone with no other family. Every morning she had the habit of sweeping her front porch, greeting him as he passed by.
Then there was Mr. Vorster, who never fought in the First war and always cried during the commemorations of it. Mr. Voster like to sit outside his home watching the harbor come alive. The young lad, gave a quick nod to him and in his hurry, the young lad almost collided with Dr. Verwoerd.
“Doctor!” the young lad caught the doctor’s attention.
The doctor, had barely noticed the young lad.
“Robert, didn’t see you there, my boy,” Dr. Verwoerd was obviously distracted by his thoughts.
“Doctor, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Robert interjected.
“I can’t talk now, maybe another time, son,” Dr. Verwoerd was in a haste.
Before Robert could say anything more the Doctor vamoosed.
The Robert scratched his head in puzzlement. The Doctor has been quite preoccupied lately, he barely made himself visible, and when he was he was always in a hurry. Every time Robert needed to talk to him, the good Doctor was rushing out the door.
Maybe another time, Doc, Robert thought to himself.
That time never came. Five years later, Dr. Verwoerd would be murdered during one of the greatest speeches he ever gave to this town, shot dead by an outlander. Everyone stood stunned as they watch it happen, unable to react fast enough to the doctor’s assistance. When they had gathered their wit’s about them, the outlander had escaped, never to be apprehended. The blood that flowed from Dr. Verwoed had deeply stained the ground he had died on, and there it would remain for years to come.