Voleur de Mon Coeur

Chapter II

A Matter Of Choice

A thief came down the walk

I do not know just why

We stopped to have a talk

Between us, him and I

He told me of his ploys

Adventures great and bold

He talked of Thiefdom's joys

From the days of old

We then said our goodbyes

He seemed polite and kind

But what escaped my eyes

Was that he robbed me blind!

Hymn of the Thief

By – Makaroto

His eyes flew open, the nightmares vanishing as the sight of darkness greeted him with a sinister welcome.

Unknown was the hour, undated the day.

Jack Dawkins stretched and turned his head to see the sleeping form of Benjamin Givvins.

"Take care of yourself old man," I shall say when the time comes. Jack mentally promised himself.

Then, upon looking up to the stone ahead of him, he saw the waking form of Mr. Banks, whom looked around with an uncomprehending expression on his features.

"Where am, I?"

"In hell," came Jack Dawkins' immediate reply.

Banks swiftly turned in the direction of the sudden voice, and, upon seeing the speaker, quickly got to his feet and lunged toward Jack, grabbing him by the collar of his coat.

"Must we go through this every day?" Jack drawled as he was jerked to his feet and forced to again smell the horrid breath of Mr. Chester Banks.

Rolling his eyes, Jack looked up into the man's crude face and awaited the raised fist that was bound to come next.

Sure enough, directly after the thought had passed through his mind, Jack saw Banks clench his fist and raise it.

However, being as Jack Dawkins' former name had been the Artful Dodger (and rightfully so), he dodged the blow easily and then proceeded to deliver a punch into the nose of Chester Banks.

Chester stumbled back, holding the bleeding nose and crying out in a howl of pain.

Jack then awaited the man's surge of rage, and the fall to the floor.

The rage came, but the fall did not.

Chester ran towards him, and Jack's smirk was replaced with a sudden look of alarm as he felt a strong pair of hands grab his own in order to keep him from delivering a final blow. It was the man who had, just yesterday, felt sympathy for Banks.

"Let me go, Danny." demanded Jack.

"No," came Danny's reply, "let's let you take the fall for once, Jack Dawkins."

Jack exhaled slowly, and, as Banks' punch was coming towards him, he suddenly ducked and allowed the blow to fall upon Daniel Douglas.

Danny instantly fell to the ground and stared up at both Jack and Chester with a confused and agonized expression.

Jack Dawkins turned and released a punch against Banks' face, then stuck both hands in his trouser pockets as he, too, fell to the floor with a thud.

Ben Givvins chuckled slightly and eyed Jack approvingly. "My boy, I haven't seen such skill among many. You 'ave a talent, Jackie."

Ben shook his head, "Truly a born criminal."

Jack smiled slightly and then leaned his head against the wall, "Is man so pre-destined?"

Givvins' brows furrowed slightly at this statement and he bent his head in question. "Does being a born criminal not please you, lad?"

Jack picked a piece of straw from beneath his feet and slowly turned it between his fingers. "It ain't that, Givvins."

"Oh? Then what is it?"

Jack sighed, and, throwing the fragment of straw to the floor, looked up into the face of Benjamin Givvins. "Are we destined to become what we were born to be?"

Givvins pondered these words before motioning for Jack to come and sit beside him.

Jack reluctantly gave up his position against the wall and took the spot offered.

Givvins lay an aged hand upon his shoulder, "Do you regret you're life of crime, Jack?"

Jack turned and looked up into the eyes of the man, "I like to think of it as a choice I made, not as a pre-planned destiny."

Givvins' face broke into a grin and he slapped Jack proudly and firmly on the back. "Truly, you are my best and finest pupil."

Jack laughed heartily and shook his head, "How could I ever regret this?" He swept his hand across the interior of the cell, "A life of crime is the only life for me."

Ben Givvins raised a hand to his heart, "Good because ye 'ad me worryin' there for a moment or two."

Jack shook his head, "Never worry yerself over me, my friend, for the day I say I'm regrettin' who I've turned to bein', it'll be a lie."

Givvins nodded, "I know, Jackie boy. Don't know 'ow I ever could've doubted ye."

"Would the two of you hush up?" hollered one of the prison guards. "It's bad enough with all the 'round here without you two blabbering on about yourselves."

Jack rose to his feet and walked over to the prison guard, grinning widely and holding his head proudly. "Maybe if you was as proud of what you is, then you'd be carryin' on 'bout yerself also."

The officer glared at Jack with pure hatred etched in every one of his features. "There ain't nothin' for you to be proud of, lad."

Jack smiled a crooked smile, "Sure there ain't." Then he turned and began to walk away. "This life," he said with a chuckle, "is glorious."

The officer shook his head, before briskly turning and walking away.

Jack saluted to the retreating figure before putting his hand in one of his pockets and taking out the officer's wallet.

"Feels great to be back in business."

Givvins clapped proudly, "Well done, lad."

Jack bowed gracefully before turning and repositioning himself against the wall, the wallet safely back within his own pocket.

However, as the hours pressed on and all others around him were deep in slumber, the words of both the officer and Givvins plagued his mind.

"Do you regret you're life of crime, Jack?"

"There ain't nothin' for you to be proud of, lad."