A Knight On The Town

I gave up my job in the service industry because I wanted something more. I'd felt for some time that I wasn't getting what I needed behind that counter. I spent the last of my money on a horse and a sword and a gauntlet. Only one though, as it was all I could afford. I figured I could find myself a lance and shield as I traveled. There was bound to be something that would do the job. I named the horse Giraffe, because he had such a long neck.

We sought adventure together and roamed around the county and into the next one. We crossed fields and parks and slept in barns.

After a week, maybe a little more, the police pulled us over as we trotted down the high street in a new town, looking for a supermarket to buy some oats.

        The car came up behind us and the lights flashed. I steered Giraffe onto the double yellow lines at the side of the road, and the squad car pulled up behind us.

The officer sitting in the passenger seat, an older man with a short salt and pepper beard and glasses, got out of the car and came and stood by my right foot and asked where I was going and I told them we needed oats.

        “Do you think it’s a good idea to be riding the horse to the shop though, sir?” one of the officers asked.

        “It’s going to be pretty heavy to carry,” I told him.

        “I understand that,” he said. “But wouldn’t it have made more sense to drive to pick them up?” he gestured at the road. “You wouldn’t be holding up traffic so much.”

        “I don’t have a car,” I told him.

        “I see.”

        “I sold it to buy the horse.”

        He looked us up and down, Giraffe and myself. “Would you like me to call anyone?” he asked.

        “It’s all good,” I said, giving him a thumbs up.

        He made a loud clicking sound, and Giraffe turned his neck to look at him.

While we’d been talking, the other officer, a younger, larger man, had walked slowly in a circle around the horse. When he got to his partner, he whispered something into his ear. The older man froze at this and they both turned away from me, all the while watching me out of the corner of their eyes, and held a quick and hushed conversation.

        “Sir,” said the older man, turning back to me while his partner walked around the back of Giraffe to my other side. “Do you have a weapon on you?”

        “A weapon?” I asked, and then realized what he meant. “You mean my sword?”

        “You have a sword?” he asked.

        “I do.”

        “And…” he bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath. “Is this a real sword?”

        “Of course,” I told him and took hold of the hilt ready to draw it to show him.

        “Stop!” shouted the bigger officer, freeing his baton.

        “Sir,” said the senior officer. “Please remove your hand from the weapon.”

        “I was going to show you,” I said to him, and as I did so, the stupidity of that action dawned on me. “Sorry,” I told him, looking towards his partner and back to him. “I didn’t mean… I was just going to show you it.”

        “I need you to slowly get down from the horse,” he said. “And keep your hands away from the sword.”

        “Sure,” I said. “No problem.”

        Down on the road, I patted the flank of my trusty steed to keep him calm. The officer asked me to show him some ID, which I did. “What are you doing in town?” he asks.

        I repeated what I’d said about the oats.

        “You’ve come a long way just for oats.”

        “Ah,” I said. “I see what you mean. We’re just passing through.”

        “We?”

        “Me and Giraffe.”

        “Who’s Giraffe?” he asked, looking around as if expecting to see somebody else.

        “My horse.”

        “Your… horse?”

        “Yes.”

        “Is called Giraffe?”

        I nodded. “Because his neck’s so long.”

        “And where are you and Giraffe going?” He asked. “What is your final destination?”

        “Nowhere in particular,” I told him. “We’re just exploring the countryside.”

        “I see.”

        “Is that not ok?”

        The officer clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “You cannot carry a deadly weapon.”

        “You mean the sword?”

        “Of course I mean the sword,” he said. “Did you not realize you couldn’t carry a sword down the high street?”

        “To be honest,” I told him. “I hadn’t actually thought of that.”

        It was true. The idea of giving up my job to go riding around the countryside, just me and my horse and my sword, had seemed like a wonderful idea but, as it turned out, I hadn’t stopped long enough to think of the reality.

        “I didn’t mean any harm to anyone,” I told him.

        “I’m sure you didn’t.”

        “But that’s not the point, is it?”

        “Exactly,” he said.

        “Damn.”

        “Yes.”

At that moment, there was some kind of crashing, banging sound somewhere at the other end of town and, almost instantly, both of their radios crackled into life. Both officers turned their backs on me and walked towards each other as the bent over. They talked to each other for a few moments, and then the older officer, the one who’d been talking to me before, turned back to me. “We have to leave,” he said.

        “What does that mean?” I asked.

        “It means you can go.”

        “Everything’s ok?”

        “You can go,” he said. “Go and buy your oats. Just get rid of that sword, ok?”

        “Ok.”

        “I mean it,” he said. “If we see you again and that sword isn’t gone, you’re in trouble. Got it?”

        “Got it,” I said.

        With that, they were back in their car, sirens wailing, heading in the opposite direction.

        I stood there for a little while, petting Giraffe. The siren had shaken him up somewhat and I had to pat his flank and rub his neck and talk to him. “It’s ok,” I told him. “They’re gone now. We can go and get you some food. Ok?”

        He nodded his head enthusiastically, which may have been a coincidence, but it may not have.

        I got back on Giraffe as the sound of sirens built and built and built behind us.

        We’d gone a few paces down the road when all hell broke loose behind us. There was the sound of gunshots. An explosion. Then another one.

        Giraffe froze.

        “What do you think?” I asked him.

        He said nothing, but it seemed like we had an understanding.

        “Come,” I said, pulling on the reins and turning around. I dug in my heels and we set off at a gallop, my hand reaching down to the hilt of my sword as I leaned forwards.