[Zdenek]

That is a story I read years ago on a forum. I don't know if it is true, but it´s interesting story. Maybe you'll like it, too.

"He walked into the shop when I already about to close down. It was one of those slow winter days that
makes you want to take a holiday somewhere warm instead of getting out in the chilly drizzle.

He was wearing a very old but clean brown coat, its' collars dripping with rain. A wave of cold air, and
indeed darkness from the street, sneaked in with him, making me shiver.

'Good evening', he said and took of his hat. I was surprised at how grey his hair was.

'Good evening', I replied, 'How can I help you?'

He did not look like the antique shopping type, common here Only in summer. If anything, he looked like an antique Himself ? 65 maybe 70, although he could be even older. His hands were clutching his wrinkle felt hat, and I noticed They were slightly shaking.

He glanced around at the shelves filled with old brass plates, used silverware, china dishes and books. His eyes stopped for a moment at the stand where I had three or four old pocket watches, Which were lying there long enough for a good discount.

'I would like to sell a watch', he said, 'I hoped you would be interested.'

'A watch? We don't normally buy watches anymore I'm afraid. Not enough demand.'

'Oh dear!', he sounded very disappointed. 'I was hoping you could at least take a look. I don't really know where else to take it.'

He was right. The only other two shops in the town never Dealt with watches. The days when this town was an upscale Ski resort were long gone, and now it was down to a few Eccentric collectors that would pop in looking for an old map occasionally, or mid-age couples buying each other unusual Anniversary presents, to keep us in business.

Still there was something in this mans' appearance that Triggered my curiosity. Perhaps it was his face ? deeply wrinkled, yet with barely noticeable traces of past strains and endurance. His eyes were colourless and full of tired Sadness. He looked awkward and out of place.

'Okay', I said, 'Let's take a look at it. Maybe we can sort something out.'

His left hand reached into the pocket of his coat, and came Out with something wrapped in a handkerchief. He put it on The counter and unwrapped it, his hands shaking visibly.

It was a Rolex. A Submariner. Not in mint condition to say The least. The crystal had obvious scratches and a few bezel marks were worn off. The oyster bracelet had seen its' better days too, and was in a bad need for cleaning. What caught my attention though, was the dial of the Watch. Right below the hands, in a wide rectangle, it said COMEX.

'How long have you had this watch?' I asked the man.

'Thirty-five maybe forty years.'

'Did ' ,I paused inspecting the watch closer in my hands. 'Did you work for ''COMEX?

Yes. I was a surveillance diver'

'And you wore this watch on your dives?' I asked without much thinking, with the watch still in my hands. For the first time he looked straight into my eyes.

'This watch I owe my life to this watch.'

'I looked at him. He glanced at the watch, as if he reconsidering his decision to bring it to the shop.

'In the Gulf. The timer on the platform broke', he explained, 'If I hadn't it on my wrist, I would have
remained there, on the sea floor.'

I stood there, not knowing if I should ask he more questions. I read about the legendary COMEX
exploration dives, but never met anyone who risked their lives for oil discovery and in effect wrote the
rules of modern diving with their own blood.

'May I ask', I said hesitantly, 'Why are you selling this watch? I mean, obviously it is of great value for
you.'

'I wish I could afford a sentimental value,' he replied, ' but my life's memory is more important to me.' He must have noticed my puzzled look, 'It's for the monument. For her grave ' His voice trembled and I regretted ever asking him these questions. But as a salesman, I had to ask him the obligatory one.

'I am sorry Sir', I said, 'How much would you like for this watch?' I was no watch expert but I knew these were rare.

'Well I was hoping a few hundred ', he looked at me hesitantly, ' A thousand maybe?'

I realised he had no idea of the true value of his watch. I Knew it would fetch a lot from some collector but at the Time I had no clue what I would do with it. Selling it here Would be almost impossible. I sighed.

'I tell you what Sir,', I said, 'I'll give you three thousand for it.' Last thing I wanted to do was to rip him off.

Seeing him off with a check in his hand and happy tears In his eyes made my day, although I preferred not to think What I should do next.

It has been five years since that day Rolex COMEX is still In my possession. I never got myself to display it in the shop or post it on the internet. Instead, it is on my wrist ? a mute hero of another mans life."