Monday, October 17, 2011

Shape-shifting Burglar

I just got back from kickboxing class. You may know I'm a certified cardio kickboxing instructor but at the moment I'm happily taking a contact class (with a bag and gloves) at a local dojo. It's the same place where I took class nine years ago (gulp!) when I was in college.

Just before we leave, the teacher tells us that apparently the police are searching the area for a burglar. They even have dogs with them, which makes me wonder if "burglar" was not the whole story. Right? I mean, there must be more to it than a petty thief.

Or is that just my tendency to jump to the worst possible scenario? (It's a more-than-healthy dose of paranoia that I like to call "being prepared.")

Anyway, despite the fact that all of us women have just spent the last hour beating up on a bag while the teacher instructed us to "Aim for the kidneys!" and  "Grab his head and pull it into your knee!" we all quietly wait until we're all ready to leave so we can go together.

There is one man in the class tonight, who also practices karate at the dojo. He very sweetly monitors the (not very big but heavily wooded) parking lot to make sure we all get to our cars safely.

Can I just say how much I love people like that? This is why I love dorky guys. They grow up on a Fantasy book diet and want to be heroes and protect people. I want to protect people, too. If more of us wanted that, we'd all be a lot safer.

Okay, right. Story. So, we walk outside and I crack a joke about the irony of said kickboxing girls in a huddle but the laughter fades as we realize that not only is there a police car idling beside the parking lot, but a SHERIFF's jeep sweeping the lot as well.

Yikes, maybe I wasn't being paranoid after all! I clutch my keys and hurry to my car. This is when I remember that horrible urban legend about the guy in the back of the car who keeps rising up to cut off the driver's head with a cleaver and the car behind him keeps flashing his lights to try and warn the driver.

Very helpful, brain. Thank you for reminding me of that.

I turn on my car and my headlights. That's when I catch sight of him: a lanky red fox loping into the woods. No one else saw him but me.

I can't help but smile to myself. I have a soft spot for foxes. Someone should tell the policemen that they're not going to find their thief tonight.
Not of they're looking for a MAN, anyway.

(photo credit: wildnatureimages.com)

3 comments:

  1. foxy story, foxy lady. (literally, in both cases.)

    i know the story about the headlight man, too. in fact, i know a couple of those. and yes, my brain only reminds me of them at the most helpful times.

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  2. He's only stealing certain objects with latent magic power so he can fight a great and terrible evil.

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  3. Yes, I would like to be a fox. I read this great book in elementary school about Roanoke (which I was obsessed with for a while) and in the end the girl turns into a fox to escape!

    Jazz, that made me laugh out loud. You're absolutely right. I'm sure he's a handsome rogue too.

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