Mystery of the Missing Shoes

 

          I know as a rule you shouldn’t undress in a public library but my feet were killing me, my belt tight so I took off my shoes and belt and placed them both beneath the table where I rested my magazines. Big mistake!

          After I woke from a snooze, I went to put on my shoes as my feet were cold. They were nowhere to be seen — my shoes, that is. I thought in my tiredness I may have pushed them under the chair instead of the table but they weren’t there either. My brand new $100 Hush Puppies were gone!

          Could someone have taken them? As a sort of prank? To teach me a lesson? There were, after all, ‘Watch Out For Thieves’ signs everywhere. I looked around suspecting everyone. But no one was sniggering behind their newspaper or journal ; no one wore an impish grin upon their face.

          The bloke opposite me, however, reading ‘The Australian’ looked a little suspicious.

          Have you seen my shoes? I asked.

          Yes, he said. I thought you knew. They took off by themselves about ten minutes ago. It looked like they were going for a leisurely walk.

          A leisurely walk? I contested. Shoes don’t take off by themselves, you know.

          Well, these did, he said. It looked as though it was the sort of thing they did on a regular basis.

          They’re brand new shoes ! I said. They haven’t been around long enough to do anything on a regular basis!

          Will you two be quiet please? an old fellow behind us said. Some of us are trying to read.

          One of the security staff noticing the disturbance came up to us. He looked at my shoeless feet disparagingly.

          What appears to be the problem, sir?

          I appear to have misplaced my shoes. You haven’t seen them, have you?

          What do they look like, sir?

          They’re a brand new pair of hush puppies. Tan.

          Where did you last leave them?

          Just under the table here.

          I’ll put out an all points alert if they’re still missing in an hours’ time, he smiled.

          Thank you, I returned with a sneer.

          Well this was getting me nowhere. I still thought the bloke opposite was having a lend of me, as the saying goes, but just then a few minutes later my hush puppies ambled around a corner, one in front of the other, arranged themselves in an orderly fashion, then sat down at my feet obediently as a well-trained dog.

          You’ve certainly got them well trained, the bloke opposite me said. You see there was no cause for concern. Perhaps you should take your shoes for a walk more often then they won’t feel the need to take off by themselves. They probably need to be run in  — like a car.

          Shoes are not cars! I snapped.

          It was just an analogy, he returned.

          Perhaps he was right. So I slipped my shoes back on, said goodbye to my ‘friend’, walked out the library and prepared myself for a long, long  walk through the park.