domingo, 5 de dezembro de 2010

Searching for the yellow sandal

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this short story are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

It was originally written for a cultural competition sponsored by a brand of shoes. This short story won first place. My award was FOUR pairs of shoes. Isn't it great? ;D  

This character inspired the protagonist of my novel.


Being a secret agent is not easy.

I have to always be vigilant, because I conquered many enemies throughout my career. I also need to have ethics. I work with important secrets, always siding with good. I can’t be corrupted, for I always get important missions.

Customers reach for the agency, but they don’t even know I exist. I am known as agent 1701.

A few days ago, I was assigned to a new mission. The prototype of the sandal 38306 has disapeared from the safe of a luxury brand of shoes. The only clue I had was a phone call received by the administration.

A wealthy woman, named Leslie Alcântara Nogueira Zantu, offered $ 100,000.00 for the prototype, a week before it’s been robbed. Apparently, she wanted to be the only one to wear the design. Imagine what a tragedy it would be if it was never found! Several crazy-for-shoes girls would be crying. I had to find it!

I went soon to investigate Leslie’s mansion. It was a quiet Monday morning, when I parked my car a few blocks from the residence, and watched the movement behind the tinted window.

I looked through my binoculars, and realised some things about Ms. Leslie Zantu. There was a yellow Audi in the garage, and two security guards wearing yellow uniforms. I took a look at the picture of the sandal in my pocket; yellow as I had noted. Maybe there was some fact that binds color to the crime.

I got off the car and walked toward the house. It was a townhouse with three floors, yellow walls, obviously, and crimson roof. There was a huge garden separating the construction of the gates and many men responsible for surveillance.

I decided to try and enter through the rear gate. I waited until the guards to back off and disarmed the alarm. Opening the gate would make much noise, so I cut the energy of the electric fence and jumped over the wall.

Once I got to the ground, I heard two men came up to me. Before they could notify the others, I kicked both. My heel destroyed the walkie-talkies, but they still tried to fight.

I took a dagger from my waist and threw it at the one of the guys’ leg, which fell defeated. The other pointed a gun in my direction. With a stroke of capoeira, I made him drop the gun. With another blow, I left him unconscious. In order to leaving no tracks, I bound and gagged them, right after locking them in the basement.

I was already wearing one of the guards’ clothes and had the house keys with me. All the same, I thought it best to avoid being seen.

The house had many rooms, but I found it best to begin with Leslie closet. I climbed the stairs, and luck me, most of the employees were sleeping. I noticed each room had the door a different color. Of course Leslie’s could only have a yellow door.

I walked down a long corridor until I find myself in front of two yellow doors. One led to the closet, but I didn’t know which one. In order to avoid confrontation, I decided to enter the room whose door was green, and get into the closet by the window.

With a screwdriver, I opened the green door. Luck me again, there was nobody in the room. So I opened the window, and climbed the wall until the other window. It was the closet. I could see a lot of yellow clothes and yellow shoes, confirming Leslie’s obsession.

I managed to open the window and entered. I started to walk through racks of shoes, but could not find the sandal. I realized then, there was a painting by Edward Munch on the wall. Behind it, there was a safe. I always bring a stethoscope and drill with me for such emergencies.

I opened the safe and the sandal was there. It was a beautiful pair of yellow sandals *7 (USA), 5 ½ (England). Since I wear this size, I thought it would not hurt if I tried.

It was beautiful, but I had no time to think. I heard footsteps and the Leslie’s voice. The guards had got loose, and I was being sought through the entire house. I put the sandals in a backpack and got down from the window with the aid of a rope. I left the house and went straight to my car.

Once the mission was accomplished, I should call the agency and return the sandals. But they were so pretty on my feet, I decided to keep them for me. I was in love with them and made a choice. I had to abandon my career as a covert agent.

I did something crazy for a sandal.

* It's 39 in Germany, Argentina, Italy, Spain and France.

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