Tagging Rodger

Candice said Rodger’s bike couldn’t be tagged. He was entitled to have it in the garden. “But he complained about the boys’ bikes being in the garden!” To get rid of the eyesore of a bike from the communal garden one would have to get rid of Rodger. That seems a bit drastic. Couldn’t I simply ask? He’d smile and in a position to deny would refuse. He wasn’t talking to me anyway so probably would ignore my request.

Rodger himself had got rid of the boys. There was a new tenant in no 36, I was told. Connor had predictably lost his legal battle to keep his tenancy. Authority, as I’d told him, supports authority. I was hoping the other evicted boy would think to come back to steal the bike. He didn’t. I felt like throwing it over the hedge but that’d be an offence Rodger would suspect I’d committed and seize the opportunity to call in the police on me. He’d called them in on the boys every opportunity he had while himself furtively avoiding having them called in on him. He stole Diana’s cat bowls and harassed her by constant interference with them but, though this had been reported, no action could be taken by the landlord against him because it could not be proved. He hadn’t been seen. He had been seen throwing a croissant up onto my balcony. I didn’t know that but complained he’d thrown up fish skin I was entitled to throw down if a cat was there and his cat was. It could only be Rodger had thrown up the skin.

To get rid of the bike I’d have to get rid of Rodger but how? I’d settle anyway for getting rid of Rodger. But how?

Here’s how: Rodger made an exchange and left in a van making a gesture of wanking. The bike was gone with him. Diana remembered his kindness over her dying cat. “Forget that,” I said. “He’s gone. We won.”

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About johnbrucecairns

I'm a retired history teacher who's written for most of his life with a book readied for publication.
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