Now You See Me, Now You Don't

This story took place a couple of years ago, and both my mango and the answers are still missing. No, it’s not a euphemism, it’s not a metaphor, it’s not a symbol. I’m literally talking about a mango – the fruit – here. A huge mango disappeared from my fridge overnight. Without a trace.

I realize there’s a chance I might sound a bit crazy now, but this story itself has been driving me crazy for years... So, I’m willing to take that risk.

I remember the details exactly because I’ve been telling this story to everyone who would listen (and be willing to speculate about the possible explanations or offer a theory.)

Five years ago, I subscribed to a service that imported organic exotic fruit (exotic to us, in Estonia, anyway). They would assemble boxes with a variety of fruit and deliver them to your house every Thursday.

It was the beginning of December, and this was the first time in six months that we had a mango in the box. It wasn’t quite ready to be eaten yet and still needed to ripen for a little while on the counter. That’s where I put it.

My brother also subscribed to that service, and since he and his girlfriend didn’t really like mango, he gave his to me. I now had two mangos ripening on my kitchen counter. (Friday)

Over the weekend, I baked a lot in my kitchen. I remember exactly – I was making gingerbread cookie dough, and anyone who knows the process, (caramelizing and almost burning the sugar, then mixing it with boiling water) knows it makes your kitchen very hot and humid. My point is that, by Monday, the mangos were ripe and ready to be eaten. But since they were huge, and my then-partner didn’t like mangos, I only ate one and put the other in the fridge (on top of a container of cookie dough) so it wouldn’t go too soft and mushy by the next day.

When I came home from work the following day, I first had a bowl of corn-potato chowder (I told you I remember the details), and then went to get the second mango from the fridge to have as dessert – it wasn’t there.

I asked my partner if he had eaten it (unlikely, but possible). He said no and then asked me if I hadn’t eaten the mango the night before. I had, the first one. I was now talking about the one my brother had given me.

I went back to the fridge and searched it thoroughly – and when I say thoroughly, I mean it. I took out every item and put them back one by one.

No mango.

But there was a container with fresh salmon. I took the fish container and went to question my partner again. Where had that come from, and where was the cookie dough?

He said that he had met up with a friend earlier who had given him the fresh-caught salmon, and he had given him cookie dough in exchange.

"That’s all good, but where did you put the mango?"

By that time, he thought I was going insane and asked me again which mango I was talking about.

I explained that I had put the second mango – which he himself had carried from the car to our kitchen on Friday – into the fridge last night, on top of the cookie dough container.

"If you took the cookies this morning, you must have seen it. You must have moved it." He said that when he took the cookies, there wasn’t any mango there.

For a moment, I doubted myself. I searched the whole kitchen from top to bottom (and once again – LITERALLY). I searched every cabinet, on top of things, under things. I crawled on the floor to see if I had somehow dropped it and it had rolled under the furniture (again – unlikely, but possible).

It was not in the kitchen.

Then I thought, maybe – just maybe – I had taken it to work with me (back then, my shift started at 4 AM, so it was possible that, being sleepy, I might have put it in my bag). It wasn’t in my bag. And it would have been very out of character for me to take food with me since we had free lunch at work. (I still checked work the next day; it wasn’t there either, and I asked the colleagues who were also working the previous day – no one had seen a mango or me eating a mango.) I covered all my bases and didn’t care about sounding insane.

By that time, I was so determined to find it. I searched everywhere: in my closets and sock drawers, the laundry basket and washing machine, every drawer in every room, behind the couch, and even the car. By the end of it, I was crawling on all fours through the entire apartment to see if it was under anything. It was not. I took a new trash bag and placed each piece of trash from the bin into the new bag to see if I had eaten it and somehow forgotten (sleepwalking is a thing, right? Why not sleep-eating?)

Nope, nothing.

After a couple of hours of searching, I marched up to my partner and asked if it was possible he had given my mango to his friend by accident. He looked at me like he was questioning my sanity – can’t blame him, really – and didn’t say a word. He just took his phone and called his friend.

“Did I give you a mango?”

A moment of silence, then “Umm... what? You brought me cookie dough.”

“I know. Did I also give you a mango?”

“No, you didn’t. What are you talking about?”

Seeing that I wasn’t going to find my mango there – and also questioning my sanity a little bit now – I called my brother.

“Did you give me a mango on Friday, or did I leave it at your place?”

“What do you mean? You took it home.”

I told my brother why I was acting insane. He didn’t have many good theories. Sleepwalking and misplacing it? Okay, but would I take it outside? Throw it out the window? Because it’s not anywhere in the apartment. Ate it and forgot? Ate the whole thing – the skin and seed and everything? I doubt it.

Next theory – we had been robbed. Theory shot down by my partner: “A burglar came into our apartment, didn’t take the TVs, computers or your jewelry, but did go into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took your mango...”

Well, if you put it like that... no.

I knew I had finished baking at 7 PM the night before, and according to my partner (based on the thorough interrogation of his whereabouts and times of running errands this morning), he left the house around 11 AM and opened the fridge right before that to take the cookie container. And he swore there was NO MANGO on top of that container at that time.

Which means my mango went missing from a closed fridge overnight.

So, here I am, almost five years later, still without my mango.

The only theory that hasn’t been shut down by anyone is the one my co-worker offered: "You shifted timelines, and somehow your mango got stuck in the other one."

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

— Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

I know that to those of you who actually made it to the end of this story, I may sound like I’m losing it.

But if you have any kind of theory about what might have happened, I’m all ears.

Don’t worry if your theory sounds insane or far-fetched. I don’t mind – as you can probably tell by now, I’m open to all kinds of ideas.

And also, let me know if you’ve had similar experiences that simply can’t be explained with common sense or logic. I’d love to hear those!