Just for Fun

Just for Fun

Copyright 2015

Published by Henry Tobias

This book is dedicated to Jill, my wife of forty four wonderful years, my son David, my daughters Andrea and Alison and last but not least my granddaughter Abigail, who inspired one of my favourite stories in this anthology

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Also to my friends and fellow writers; David Brauner—who has mentored me for the past six or seven years and is the bedrock of my writing career—without whom I would never have been inspired to write and publish; Esther Rafaeli, a veteran Israeli and writer who inspires me to seek a happy ending—may she have many more happy, healthy years of creative writing; Helen Kreeger, herself a talented writer, who appreciates and guides my British sense of humour without letting me lose sight of my wider public; Marallyn ben Moshe—an oracle of wisdom and visionary whose prescience often redirects my writing and Miraim Drori, a much published author who inspired me to take the plunge. Also Gladys Liebner and Dina Fox who both made an invaluable contribution to my writing.

It would be remiss of me to forget Norma Marx, who infused in her writing a unique sense of fun, and her husband Ben, who overcame great adversity to achieve great success. Although no longer members of our writing group, they continue to inspire me.

To all of you, thank you for your perspective and patience week after week, month after month and year after year.

All foreign words, if not in italics, are in the Oxford Dictionaries http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/

Table of Contents

1) Just for Fun

2) Friday the 13th

3) All’s Fair in Love and War

4) Happy Marriage Study: To Obey or Not To Obey

5) Black Heart and Purple Hearts

6) Left High and Not So Dry

7) London

8) Rejected! Dejected! Never!

9) Rilla, Camilla and Toni

10) The Man in the Plastic Mask

11) There Was a Crooked Man

12) Julia

13) Moses

14) Olga

15) Abigail’s Notebook

16) Ambushed

17) Miriam the Washerwoman

18) A Jew goes Forth

19) Bedpans and Bandages

20) Limehill - South Africa

21) Reflections

22) Renovations

23) Snow

24) Reminiscences of Christmas

Just For Fun

Sam was sitting in the hospital with his wife, Mary—a copper coloured redhead, now that her hair had grown back—waiting for the doctor. It was the regular three-monthly visit to make sure her cancer was still in remission.

Look, there’s two T.V. sets on that wall, and a copy machine standing in the corner. I’ve often watched to see if anyone’s using it—no one ever does and the T.V. sets are never on. I wonder if anyone knows why these things are here and why?

I don’t suppose so. You know how big institutions work; the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing.

Do you think that if someone wore workman’s overalls and made an I.D. badge good enough to pass a not too thorough check by the security guys at the front door, they could take at least one of those screens down and steal it? The copy machine too?

Don’t you dare! You’re too old for a lark like that. You’re not twenty-five any more and you’ve spent enough time in jail. I don’t want you pulling stunts like that at your age.

Well, just for fun it may be worthwhile giving it a try, and I could always bring it back afterwards.

What, are you crazy? You gonna tell the judge, ‘Your Honour, I just did it as a joke. I intended to bring it back. I wouldn’t steal from a hospital.’

Well, that might work.

You do that and you can sleep on the couch or the bloody floor for a long time, maybe forever, even if you get away with it.

What! You think you’re Lysistrata?

Who?

She was some Greek bird who told her husband ‘if you go to war mate, no sex for you’.

"Suddenly you’re a classical scholar? Where’d you learn about her?

When I was last doing porridge my cellmate was a young fella, a bit pretentious, I told you about him, and he read all these books on history and mythology from the prison library. That was about all they had. If the books hadn’t been in English, they were so old they could’ve been first editions written by the Greeks and Romans.

He didn’t say any more, but his brain kept ticking over.

Somehow the thought of those two television screens and the lone copy machine stayed in his head. Is it possible? It must be possible! kept repeating itself in his conscious and subconscious thinking. Sam dreamed about them—he became obsessed. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d go bonkers.

Sam contacted one of his old mates, Harry, and told him what was on his mind.

We’re too old for a lark like that.

Funny you say that, my ‘trouble and strife’ used those exact words.

But my boy has a couple of mates who’d be up to pulling a stunt like ‘at. I’ll get them ’round and we’ll have a few beers and talk.

O.K. here’s what I was thinking. I was sitting at the hospital and saw these two T.V. screens and a copy machine. I doubt if anyone knows that they are there, let alone why they are there. I must be part of the job. I can’t let it go until I’ve seen if it can be done. I reckon we could put on overalls and make up some I.D. cards that will pass muster if no one looks too carefully. We go in dressed in civvies, and change in the toilets one at a time. Harry will drive the truck; won’t be his first time as the getaway man. I must be inside; I’ve got to feel the adrenaline again, one last time. If we get caught, I reckon the worst we’ll get is about six months. No weapons; and the screwdriver will be to take the stuff off the walls, no violence. Understood? I don’t want no-one hurt. I’ve never hurt no-one yet, so I don’t want to start at my age. I’m only doing this to see if it can be done and for the fun.

The two pensioners cased the hospital. No one would worry about two old men wandering the corridors of a hospital. If someone asked questions they would act senile and say ‘sorry, I got lost’.

The four men drove to the hospital. Three of them went inside and changed into overalls. They took a ladder and a hand-operated forklift trolley from an area where renovation work was going on, which the ‘scouts’ had spotted during their reconnoitre. They took down one of the two T.V.s. Doctors, nurses and other staff walked past and as Sam expected, didn’t even take notice. The copy machine was a bit heavier and one or two of the patients sitting around did look to see what was going on, but it was not their business—they continued talking, reading newspapers or texting on their cellphones.

Getting the T.V. and the copy machine out to where Harry had parked the van was no problem. They just flashed a smile at the security girl at the front entrance and said, It’s easier to go out this way than through the delivery exit and carried on.

The copy machine was difficult to load, but the two young men managed with a bit of help from Sam and Harry. Satisfied with their day’s work, they all jumped in the van and Harry drove away, slowly, so as not to attract attention.

They arrived at Sam’s place. Mary was home. She was livid when she saw what they had done.

You stupid idiot! You remember what I said if you tried this stunt. You can bugger off, go and sleep at your mate Harry. And don’t come back. I’m fed up with you.

Sam tried protesting that he only wanted to see if it could be done and they’d take it back tomorrow.

Mary just went inside, slammed the door shut and locked it. Sam could hear her putting the chains in place on the inside and even sliding the bolt which he had put on years earlier to keep the police from breaking down the door too easily, using the extra few minutes to hide contraband. It didn’t really help, but he continued to live with the illusion that he was cleverer than the ‘old bill’.

Sam took the stuff he and his mates had ‘borrowed’ from the hospital to a lock-up garage he had rented nearby. They didn’t even take it out of the van.

Harry’s wife Siobhan, was away visiting her mother for the night so he slept on the couch over at Harry’s, intending to go back to the hospital the next morning and leave the ‘borrowed items’ just outside the delivery entrance with a note attached saying Borrowed these for the day, I suggest you tighten your security—‘a well-wisher.’

The next morning, Sam and Harry made themselves a sandwich and a cup of tea and went outside.

Morning Sam, morning Harry.

Both of them went white. It was the sergeant from the local police station, a man they knew well.

Back to your old tricks again I see. I thought you were past it.

Sam managed to regain some composure. Good morning Sarge. What do you mean? We ain’t done nothing!

I suppose the T.V. and the copy machine you took from the hospital are nothing then?

Now Sam and Harry turned red, their neck veins standing out.

How do you know about that?

Well, a little birdie gave us a bell to tell us of your escapades. She sounded pretty pissed off with you Sam.

Bloody Mary, I didn’t think she’d shop me. She warned me, but she’s my wife. Bloody hell! Been married to her for more than thirty years—you’d think she’d show some loyalty. I’ll bloody kill her, I will.

Where you’re going Sam, you won’t be doing anything for a long time.

I’ll be out and free by tomorrow, Sarge. No fear.

I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Sam.

The next day they appeared before the judge.

You two fellows have got quite a history. The judge said, addressing Sam and Harry. I think maybe you haven’t learned that you can’t take other people’s property. The youngsters I’m letting go with a warning as they haven’t got records, but to teach them and you two reprobates a lesson I’m holding you with no bail. I’m setting your trial for three months from today.

No pleading from Sam and Harry, or from their lawyer would shake the judge’s resolve.

Sam was thoroughly miserable banged up in clink. He cursed the whole world and himself every day. Mary didn’t visit him and didn’t let any of their children do so either. The kids didn’t argue with their mother. She had threatened to throw them out the house, and they knew she always kept her word.

Sam and Harry’s trial date came. To their dismay it was the same judge who had presided at their hearing three months before.

Well, gentleman, I see we have the pleasure of meeting again.

Sam and Harry’s brief, Advocate Jones Q.C. tried to explain, Your Lordship, although my client has got a record, he was just being playful. He was intending to return the equipment the next day, but the police wouldn’t let him.

Mr Jones, I respect your knowledge of the law. We have had the honour of doing battle many times, but I doubt you can show me the law that says it’s OK to steal for fun.

That’s just the point, Your Honour, they weren’t stealing. They just wanted to ‘borrow’ the two items overnight to see if they could do it. They actually have done the hospital a favour, they’ve tightened their security since.

So, Mr Jones, your argument is that your clients were acting as security consultants?

In a way Your Honour, as they really had no intention of keeping the two items.

And Mr Jones you were present when your clients planned this adventure? Because if you were, I think you may have to join them in the dock.

No, of course not Your Honour, but Mrs Smith, that is Harry’s wife has now taken pity on her husband, and is prepared to give evidence on his behalf.

Mary took her place in the witness box.

"Mr Jones, if you don’t mind I’d like to ask the questions. It will speed up proceedings so