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A dog has turned my life into an RPG

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  • A dog has turned my life into an RPG

    I met a mysterious old man this last Saturday. He told me he was 87, and I did not believe it. Then, to prove it, he lifted his huge round sunglasses and made me stare at his eyes, which were light blue and rather milky with cataracts. "Still don't believe it?" he asked. I told him that I still did not believe it, and he laughed, delighted.
    He sat down and told me about his life: all of it. His youth, an engineering diploma of some kind, and a stint in the army where the engineering diploma came up three or four months after he had started as a private. Important people had read his file and decided the engineering stuff meant that he might be officer material. He attended a training school for officers on the outskirts of Brighton, and ended up as a sub-lieutenant: all the duties of a lieutenant, but the other officers never treated him quite right. Also, less money. Still, a pip on the shoulder and plenty to do in Egypt, where he was sent. Where in Egypt? He thought for a second: Aqaba? Is that a place?
    On his return to the UK, he was tasked with rounding up deserters on the underground. The tube, he explained. In eight months, he only caught three. In truth, he caught more, he admitted, but could not bring himself to turn them in. I told him I was overjoyed to hear that: They will have remembered you their whole lives, I said, the person who showed them a little kindness. He nodded, but he still felt a bit ashamed of it.
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