My First Armed Robbery

Way back in the 1980’s in Bicester (pronounced Bister), England when I was in the second or third grade, I was confronted with the reality of this commandment for the first time. I was far from a Christian but I had been made aware of the “sin” of stealing by my family. My brothers and I were just like most little rough and tumble boys. We liked to ride our bikes, go exploring in the woods, and play guns. On one fateful day these three activities would come together making it possible for me to commit my first felony.

My brothers and I were riding on the paths through the woods, whizzing past trees on the left and right, inches away from disaster. Sharp turns, left patches of unsettled soil and shaking leaves behind us as we anticipated the next obstacle. Soaring leaps over fallen logs tested the quality of our tires and gave us that momentary sensation of human flight. In those days we seldom left the house without some sort of firepower. We were carrying cap guns with us pretending to shoot soldiers from Russia from our bikes, as the Cold War was not yet over. We road for quite awhile and as lunchtime approached we headed for home.

On the way home my brothers took off ahead and I enjoyed a relaxing ride through the woods after our battle. As I came out of the woods onto our street, Lincoln Avenue, the house was just three hundred yards away. Houses lined the street on the left as I came through the little fence at the opening of the woods. A couple of younger kids that I didn’t know were outside playing, one was in diapers and his older brother was watching him. As I rode past the older boy he had a wallet in his hand.

The wallet was absolutely amazing. It was a camouflage canvas type Velcro wallet. As soon as I saw it, I wanted it. So the little boy became an enemy. I stopped my bike, put the kickstand down, and walked toward him. After fumbling around in my pocket for a second, I pulled the cap gun out and pointed it at the bewildered little boy. “Give me your wallet,” I barked. He looked confused so I repeated, a little firmer the second time, “Give me your wallet!” Stepping toward me he handed the wallet over. Shocked that he had fallen for my little ruse, I went back to my bike and rode home to eat lunch with my new wallet secure in my pocket.