The Knife

Gergő Busa

At military camp everyone had a knife, but my friend thought it would be a good idea to carve himself a wooden one. So he did. After a few days he was ready, everything seemed fine, but soon this kid (Ferenc) came and accused Robert of stealing his wooden knife. Of course I believed in Robert’s innocence, but there was that gnawing feeling at the back of my neck, what if he is a thief.

Anyways we (me, Robert, and our friends) shrugged him off. After some time I got annoyed and asked around about Ferenc’s knife.

Well, who would have thought it: he DID have a knife (the Staff Sergeant had carved it for him in a day), but he used it inappropriately (he was waving it around carelessly), so the corporal took it, broke it in half, and threw the pieces in the woods. (Now my ambivalence was gone.)

A day later he came back while we were eating and accused Robert again. But now we confronted him:

F – Hey you should give my knife back now!

R –  But wasn’t your knife taken, broken and thrown away?

F – Yes! I m-m-mean no!

Friend – Stop, just stop.

F – (Incomprehensible speaking.)

Then he pointed out the letter F in the knife (apparently they had a common first letter in their names).

After this he went away. Now you might be thinking it is over, but you are wrong. You see, he came back during the night and tried to steal it from Robert’s chest. But Robert thought of this and wasn’t sleeping; he was holding his boots and waiting for the right time to strike. Ferenc came, crouched down to grab Robert’s chest, and SMACK.

Robert struck him so hard he fell back and ran away. He never bothered us after that.

And now you are right. The story has come to an end.

Note: This tale is based on real events, but certain details, including the names, have been changed.