He had to be about eight years old the last time he climbed a tree.
From the looks of it, the tree had little greenery and probably would not be able to hide the body of a grown man, but he had nothing to fear. He not only climbed up to the highest point of the tree at ease, but he got up there comfortably enough to be able to stand securely without disturbing a leaf. The branches did hide him well, their dark green leaves brushed into his dark clothes in a protective canopy as he looked on. He was far enough away to be completely invisible but
close enough to effectively survey the scene.
He peered through the branches into the night at the light show extravaganza of red and blue. People stood around the targeted stop,the store, with the yellow caution tape already in its proper place. They were staring, of course at all the activity—or really, the lack thereof. The police officers standing around their cars were speaking with bystanders on the street, who responded mostly with shrugs and fingers pointing in different directions. He steadied himself up in the tree as he tried to make out their conversations to his amusement.
“You didn’t hear anything?” The cop asked the smaller man in front of him.
“No, there were no alarms.” The smaller man had traces of a middle-Eastern accent, and the officer looked annoyed with him.
By the stumbling in his speech he could not provide more detailed answers. The onlooker in the tree looked to the other man who was being questioned by another officer, an African-American woman with a more persistent tone.
“Sir, are you the one who dialed nine-one-one?” she asked.
“Yes, that was me,” said the man, tall with long hair.
“Can you give us more detail of how you discovered there was a robbery?”
“I work at the auto shop; I was there finishing work on a car real late when I decided I wanted to take a smoke break. I went outside and I saw a shadow or something move by the shop window. When it was gone there was this huge hole in the glass, it was a perfect circle that looked like it was cut by hand and I thought someone broke in there.I didn’t actually see if it was a person, because if it was a person the store alarms would go off, but they didn’t. It still didn’t look right so I
decided to call the police.”
The police officers jotted some things down while the figure way away in the tree watched and listened, very amused, but still very quiet.
“Did you see anybody in the area at all?”
“No,” the man answered. “I didn’t see anything. By the time I got to the phone, made the call, and came running back I didn’t see or hear anything else. I think whoever it was was gone.”
The police officers started to walk around the area, checking at and around the yellow tape and peering through the windows. The door had been open and kept open while an older man wearing sweat clothes, presumably the owner, stood by and held himself in the cool night air. In the tree, the figure could not make out if they were saying anything else, but the police officers and the man gestured to the shop a couple of times before they all went in.
The figure in the tree lingered, his feet resting on the branches comfortably. The bystanders of the night realized there was nothing else to look at and retired home. The authorities of the scene were
busy trying to fit the pieces together on the inside, and would probably remain there for however long it took for them to draw conclusions and tips. He sunk lower and grabbed a hold of the lower branches,then very carefully walked himself down. His car was parked on the other side of the street, mingled among those at a pub whose last visitors no doubt were too intoxicated and had to leave their vehicles for the night. He unmasked himself and finger-brushed his hair, then
scurried across the street to the pub parking lot and got in his car. The streets were empty, the area was dead, and he decided the action he got tonight was satisfactory.