The Fox and the Watch

Chapter 1

At the mere hour of 7 am on a Sunday morning, a curious head peeped over the blankets. These blankets were contained in an illustrious wooden hand carved bed. In a matter of seconds there was a crash. The curious head, followed by the body to which it was attached, had suffered a slight bump. Rising from the floor, a man appeared. He was the rightful owner of the curious head of earlier discussion. It was evident at this point that the man lacked in height. His feet were quite tiny, his legs were not of great significance but he made up for a little of this in the vastness of his stomach. On top of this body sat the curious head.

His face boasted kindly features. His ears were small and unobtrusive, he had a wide and welcoming grin but his eyes had a glint in them. This glint suggested different things to different people. Some said that he had a glint of kindness, others proposed a glint of knowledge and some went as far as to say that these eyes had a glint of cheekiness. Yet, despite his features, he stood there with proud posture wearing a curious expression as the sun shone through his window directly onto him.

He had always enjoyed his Sunday routine, but today it was going to be altered. At this point, he would normally take a bath. However, it was a warm day and after consulting his routine he opened his door to the sunny countryside. With a yelp of joy and wonderment he slipped into his garments and sat in the front balcony in his favourite chair. He was a man who made it a habit to be well-dressed; today’s attire consisted of the customary trousers, shirt, and waistcoat with pocket watch draped across and a tweed jacket which completed the ensemble favourably. In his possession were a hot cup of tea and a bundle of files, handsaws and a vast roll of sand paper. The sun beamed down on him with blazing eyes and carefully inspected what this specimen was up to.

If there was one thing in the world this man loved, it was carving. The very bed he slept in was made from his own hands. Many of the chairs in his house were of his own working. Instead of saying ‘Please take a seat’ he could have replaced these words with ‘Please sit on one of my masterpieces’. In the town he was famous for his work in the shaping of wood. He had supplied several of the public benches. This was his one hobby which could occupy him for many years. His present project was that of carving the frame for a park swing. At this point, he held a sturdy rectangle of wood which would satisfy the fundamental criteria of the common swing seat. The main framework of the swing stood proudly in his front garden. After an hour of constant work he produced the perfect seat for the swing. He had made it very smooth with intricate carvings worked into the wood. He decided to stop manufacturing this beautiful object and finish his tea which had been diverted from his attention by the work at hand. He proceeded up the stairs for a shower.

It was time for a stroll. As usual the woods were in abundance. As he went strolling through a particular neck of the woods he looked around him in wonderment. The canopy of trees above his head covered most of the ground in shade. At ground level, the woods were quite airy and cool. The fluffy and inquisitive face of a rabbit appeared from the undergrowth. A plump and furry body followed it. He grinned at the rabbit and the rabbit grinned back. He always had had a kindly nature with animals. As he continued on, the vegetation began to lessen in density until he found his eyes fixed on the rolling country fields before him. Below stood a quiet little village, the roofs were narrow and the cottages were quite small and tidy. A winding road led invitingly into its midst. This same road ran past his house which was pleasantly situated a little way from the village thus saving him from the disquieting distractions of village life. Although the position of his house suggested otherwise, he was one of the chief citizens of the village and was well respected by many of the long term residents.

The man was currently contemplating a possible plan in his mind. It was his intention after his walk to proceed to the village but why not toddle in now? After all, he had to purchase a few comestibles to renew his supplies. After a considerable time, having let his brain work on the finer points of the matter; he struck out for the village. The fact that he was about to plunge himself into a series of events that would involve cunning and deception was completely unknown to him …




Chapter 2

After a solid twenty minutes of walking, his legs felt comparable to the Berlin Wall whilst it was being demolished. It was no surprise then that he had to take a few restorative breaths at a nearby bench, which was not of his own making. Whilst summoning up the blood, he took a steady look at his surrounds, even though they were quite familiar to him. The village looked the same as ever. Before arriving, he had met the ‘inviting’ road, of previous discussion, and had followed it to the village. The bench on which he was temporarily residing lay on the edge of the village. The man saw that the road he had recently treaded now merged into a cobbled street which continued around the bend and out of sight.

At this point in the story it would be appropriate to introduce another character who plays a main part in the proceedings. The individual of mention was of newer blood then our protagonist. His arrival on the country scene was fairly recent. However, it would only take one glance to realise that this man was a species of human which would be happy to double cross, cheat and deceive anyone who came within a 5 meter radius of him. He was tall and, had he stood perfectly still, may have been mistaken for a slightly thicker variety of javelin. He had short slick hair and his eyes were overshadowed as they sank further into his head. Despite this, a glint of cunning could be perceived. He was attired in a sharp suit with a gold watch, which had been slipped off the wrist of the local doctor whilst they were shaking hands, and his style of movement closely resembled that of a sly fox. Hence, we will refer to him as the 'fox’. Our main character, after feeling the sap rise in his blood, had removed himself from the bench and was proceeding into the old boy’s club when he bumped into the fox. He was in a joyous mood and so he offered the fox to come into the bar for a quick snifter,

“I say old chap, you wouldn’t care to toddle forth for a quick one?” he offered.

“That’s awfully kind of you, I think I will”, replied the fox in an oily voice.

Our main man strode into the bar with the fox fresh on his trail. As they proceeded to the table, some of the older members gave a friendly ‘hullo’ and waved. When they sat down a friendly sort of communication was struck, due to the initiative of our hero,

“I haven’t actually met you before old man, have you been round here long?” he asked.

“I’ve been in circulation for a little while, but I am not quite familiar with the town at present”, answered the fox in a greasy tone, meanwhile his brain was in top gear.

“So what is your profession?” our protagonist asked,

“Oh, I’m an antique dealer of sorts”, the fox lied; his brain had now formulated the plan.

“Must be jolly interesting”, he replied.

“Oh yes, it is an endlessly fascinating line of work. Speaking of which, I wonder if you’d like to consider this specimen I acquired in London”, said the fox as he unclasped the doctor’s gold watch and put it forward for inspection.

“That’s a nice watch, how much were you thinking off for the object”, he asked.

“I’d say about 50 pounds, for a friend”, answered the fox as a pleasurable glow flowed through his interior.

“I call that a pretty good deal”, he said, and after chewing it over for a second he added, “I’ll take it”.

After draining their restoratives the fox proceeded out the door, with a 50 pound note resting securely in his pocket, leaving the man brooding over his recent purchase. He had a doctor's appointment the next morning. It was well overdue and they were becoming more regular as he aged. According to his golden acquisition it was 10 to 5pm. At 5pm he staggered out of the club. At 5:10 pm, he popped into a taxi. At 5:30 pm, he was standing on his front door step. At 6:20 pm, he was looking over a pecan pie with eager hands. Finally, at 7:00 pm, his head, followed by the rest of his body, slipped into the sheets of his bed.

Chapter 3

The dew had barely risen from the reeds when our protagonist strode through the fields. It was around 8 am when he strode into the familiar sights and sounds of the township. He always preferred his appointments in the early morning. As he passed down the main street, the fox lay peacefully sleeping in bed. Our main man proceeded to the surgery door. It was an old oaken affair, painted blue. The light above was always on and it flickered a little as he knocked on the door. The oiled hinges swung noiselessly and the door was open. At first he could not see anyone there but then a cheerful face popped out from behind the door.

"Come in, take a chair, take two chairs, take three", said the face, very hospitably. The face belonged to the doctor, and he was always a cheerful chap.

"How are you?” the doctor asked.

"Oh, getting along and all that", replied our man.

Our protagonist proceeded into the study, tailed by the cheerful doctor. After a good half an hour, our man rose from his seat.

"Thank you doctor, now what's the time?" he asked.

"I'm afraid my watch has been stolen", sighed the doctor, it had not been two days since he discovered that his gold watch, a family heirloom, was missing.

"No problem, I purchased this golden affair from a man yesterday", said our man, producing the golden watch.

The doctor's jaw dropped perhaps 4 inches. He let out a squeal.

"I'm sorry? I didn't catch that", said our hero, straining his ears to receive anymore output from the doctor.

The doctor squealed again, and our hero moved a little closer in hope of catching some of what he was saying.

"I say!!! That watch is mine!", said the doctor, in recovery.

"Nonsense! I purchased the object about 17 hours ago", said our man in confusion.

"That new chappie gave it to me", he clarified further.

The doctor paused.

"Tall thin chap was he?” the doctor asked.

"Yes, moves like a fox", our man added in a confirming tone.

"He must have stolen it from me when he had an appointment", said the doctor, his face having passed a red complexion.

"Well, we better go follow him up", suggested our hero, wishing to clear the matter up.

The doctor then proceeded to search his files for the fox's address. Meanwhile, our man sat chewing on the end of his fountain pen. He gazed about the office in deep meditation. He was just admiring the right hand end of the doctor’s chair when its owner barged through the door with a folder gripped in a style comparable to the neck of an unlucky explorer being strangled by a hungry boa constrictor. The force at which the doctor fell into his chair was so great that the chair gave a protesting squeak. It was only at this point that the medicine man released the folder from his hand.

“I’m going to spread the innards of that man far and wide if I get my hands on him!!!!” the doctor shouted.

“I daresay he deserves it” said our hero, then continuing, “Nevertheless we must let the law bear justice upon this disgraceful man”.

The front door of the surgery flew open and out shot the doctor followed closely by our protagonist. This action startled the crowd of shoppers passing by. It was a rare site to see two well-respected gentleman abruptly shoot out of a door frame with such determined velocity, but these townspeople were made of sterner stuff and were willing to accept the fact that there must be a logical explanation for the events they had witnessed.

The fox having risen from his slumber had entered the market to purchase a few items of need: tobacco, a pair of slippers and similar objects. He felt quite satisfied knowing that the expenses were being paid out of an innocent man’s pocket. 'What an old fool!!' he thought regularly. As he strolled down the street, he wore his top hat at a jaunty angle signifying the fact that he hadn’t a care in the world. He was just rounding the corner when BANG!!!! A blurred object bowled him over. The top hat, having already been worn at a jaunty angle, was dislodged from his head.

“Watch where you're treading old chump, you nearly knocked me over”, he said, the temper rising in his veins. He saw that the blur had been his profitable customer from the previous evening. Having picked himself up, our hero retrieved the top hat and was handing it to the stranger,

“Awfully sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry I – he cut himself off in mid sentence. The fox stared at him, he glared at the fox. The fox peered closer, he peered back. Then he noticed the fox’s eyes widen. The blur which the fox had originally perceived was actually two blurs. Stepping out behind our hero, the doctor emerged.

“You blighter, you starveling, you eel-skin that is to say YOU DRIED NEAT’S TONGUE”, roared the doctor, systematically quoting Shakespeare’s Henry the Fourth as any well-read doctor would.

The fox was always quick thinking and had guessed what had happened; with a bound he cleared a small vegetable basket in attempt at making an escape. He had made good progress down the street when a well aimed apple struck him on the head, hence rendering him unconscious. The apple had been projected from our hero’s hand and the throw was well applauded. Our man strode down to where a policeman stood, gaping at the scene that had erupted before him, and explained the necessity of his actions.

A few hours later, the fox found himself standing before a judge, who was deciding his punishment and he was promptly informed that a payment was to be made of 50 pounds and that he would be spending 2 months in the local prison.

“You have wronged some of the oldest, well respected and most innocent gentlemen that this village has ever known”, the judge spoke in a soft voice, but every word was as deadly as a poison tipped arrow.

The fox, now having nothing to lose, corrected this statement.

“NO! I have wronged some of the dullest and idiotic people who ever walked this earth, is spit on you, you loathsome, drivelling baboon!!!” he exclaimed.

“Get out of my sight at once! Thou dost infect my eyes, Away you cut-purse rascal! You filthy bung, away”, cried the judge, being the second in the story to quote Shakespeare.

A few hours later the moaning fox was paraded through the streets on his journey to prison whilst the doctor, his watch having been returned, sat with our respected hero sipping from a glass of sherry. Our protagonist sipped his own glassful whilst contemplating the events of previous mention. At 7 pm his head had returned to that ever faithful pillow that lay on that beautiful hand carved bed.