And at the time, you wanted to burst out in laughter because this never happens.
You’ve never been caught.
But now you’re staring down the barrel of a big gun is pointed at the span of space between your eyebrows, just above the bridge of your nose. And you know if you make one false move, it will be the last move you ever make.
“Don’t you dare move,” the female voice behind the gun says. She cocks the gun and secures her grip. “If you move, you’re a dead man.”
And you believe her too because you can see the truth in her eyes, even in the sparse moonlight shining through the kitchen window.
You first saw her yesterday in the electronics department of the local Wal-Mart staring at the big flat screen televisions, going on and on with the salesman, telling him that she would give anything to have one of those big screen TVs.
You walked past her. She was pretty and she smelled so good. You watched as she points a slender finger at the 46” Toshiba flat screen television hanging high on the wall, and you nodded in unison with the salesman when she announced for all to hear that it was the television of her dreams.
You listen as the woman gives the salesman her address for the credit card application. Your shoulders slump the same as hers when she is told that her application has been denied. You watch as she walks away, leaving her fondest dream behind.
As you repeat the woman’s address over and over in your mind, you get the bright idea to break into her house and trade out her television for the television in your garage. You would never think of doing this, but the last time you talked with your beloved grandmother she made you promise her one thing:
“You make sure you take the time to be kind to someone this week. A little kindness goes a long way.”
You’re pretty sure your idea wasn’t what Grandma had in mind, but a promise is a promise.
Just when you’re about to open your mouth to explain yourself to the lovely lady with the gun, a large dog comes around the corner at full speed and charges at the two of you. The gun is dropped and it fires, shooting her in the chest. She falls to the floor, dead at your feet.
At the same time, sirens whir and squeal. Police break down the door and find you holding the gun in your hand. The lovely lady is cradled in your arms.
And now you’re on trial for armed robbery and attempted murder.
You are glad that the woman is not dead. And at the same time you are wishing you never answered the phone that day your grandmother called, even as you hear the lovely lady sitting there in the gallery saying to someone "You should go with that Toshiba brand. It's a dream."
“How do you plead?” the judge asks.
“Guilty,” you reply solemnly.
You are telling the truth.
For you are guilty.
Guilty of an attempted random act of kindness.