The Will of Mr. Smith

Allen Smith, a pastor at the local church, knew he was going to die. He just didn’t know when.

Having been raised to a widowed mother after his father was murdered because of drug dealing. His brothers and him followed suit and also became drug dealers. The difference between him and his brothers was that he’s still alive. Well up to now, at least.

Now, Al is consistently seen eating at Han Son Sushi once or twice a week, and today wasn’t any different. Al had been sitting next to his favorite window around 45 minutes. He was writing his will. Since he was in his 60’s he knew that his time was almost up, so he decided to write it before it was too late. He wrote the last of it when he heard the revving of a motorcycle pierce his ears. He didn’t pay it any mind, but subconsciously he looked at the window.

The motorcycle driver was at eye level as Al noticed the passenger raising an object into the air. Within a couple of seconds, Al began to move out of the seat and got a good few inches off; able to cover his face. It didn’t matter. A whole clip of bullets broke through the window, subsequently into Al.

Everyone fell to the ground as Al hit the edge of the table. Frightened yells rang throughout the restaurant as the sound of bullets rang throughout the room.

As the smoke and sounds cleared and people began to get up. The staff and customers looked around the room for anyone injured, then they saw Al. Al had visible bullet wounds as blood began to surround him. The manager came out from the back yelling, asking, what had happened, looking seemingly angry until she saw Al. Her face changed into concern. Al’s favorite waitress, Lisa, ran up to him. Kneeling in blood. All of the staff took out their phones.

She yelled in Japanese, “Call 911, now!”

Al was in and out of consciousness by the minute. Seemingly in and out of death. Lisa held up his head, consoling him. Making sure he doesn’t go unconscious permanently.

“Stay with me,” She said, “Keep your eyes open. Look at me!”

She looked up at the manager, petrified. Then, changing her focus to the workers.

“Where are the police,” she said.

“I don’t know. They said they were on the way, It could be a few more minutes” the waiter who called the police said.

The ambulance and police arrived a few minutes later. Instantly putting Al in a stretcher, while the police asked the manager a series of questions. The police shifted their attention to Lisa, who saw the murder occur.

As the ambulance drove off to the hospital, Al fell into unconsciousness. Sometimes waking for a couple of seconds.

Arriving at the Emergency Room, the hospital quickly found Al a room as he was a critical case. As his body lied on the hospital bed, uncertain of life or death, the surgery began.

Some of the television’s in other rooms switched to the news, where they were outside the restaurant; broadcasting the story of Mr. Smith’s murder.

*****

Amelia Smith was sitting at the kitchen table, eating the dinner that her mother, Karlie had made. Amelia was a 19-year-old student at University, studying English. She had the day off and was hoping to rest and do homework she had forgotten to do for the last couple of days.

Her father, Harry, walked into the kitchen and kissed Karlie on the cheek before sitting down in front of Amelia.

“Evening, Amma,” Harry said.

Amelia had always hated when Harry or anyone would call her Amma. She instead accepted Lia, but only for certain people.

“Be glad I’m in a good mood, Harold.” She responded.

“Point made.”

The home telephone started ringing. Amelia knew that no one would answer it, because they never did. It would always go to voicemail. She wondered why they still had a home phone when they had cellphones.

The phone rang until it went to voicemail. The voicemail began to play.

“Harry, this is your brother Thomas. Dad’s been shot,” the phone said.

Karlie started getting out of her seat when Harry got up and went to the phone. He picked up the phone, but the call ended.

Harry dialed back. With each ring, the worry in the room intensified. The phone rang four times.

“What happened to dad,” Harry didn’t give Thomas a chance to talk, “is dad okay?”

“Harry, calm down,” Thomas responded.

“Calm down! What happened to Dad,” Harry insisted on an answer.

“We don’t know yet. There was a shooting at a restaurant and dad was shot. There’s not much information yet,” Thomas moved away from the phone. It was just muffled sound.

“Thomas,” Harry pleaded, “I’m on my way!”

****

Thomas and his wife Betty were sitting on the chairs in the hospital room, waiting for Harry. The other siblings, Noah, and Jakob were also in the hospital room. Time seemingly passed in slow motion for the two hours it would take for Harry to get there. They finally arrived.

“Is dad okay!” Harry said as he walked through the door.

Thomas and Betty began to get out of the chairs. Thomas motions for Betty to sit back down.

“I need to talk to you,” Thomas said.

Thomas opened the door and walked out of the door with Harry.

“What’s wrong,” Harry said as Thomas began to tear up.

“Dad’s dead,” Thomas said.

“What do you mean, two hours ago he was still alive!”

“Two or three bullets would have done enough. But the doctor said dad had more like five or six bullets hit him. He had too much internal bleeding and fell into a vegetable state. We decided to allow him to go.”

“We?! I never agreed with that!”

Harry started going for the door.

“Wait,” Thomas grabbed Harry’s shoulder, “I just thought that you would be on board with the choice.”

“Well, I’m not!”

Harry opened the door.

“We both know you would have pulled the plug,” Thomas said.

“Yes, but at least ask me so I can be apart of the decision. Even if I said yes, I would want to know that my opinion mattered.”

Harry walked into the room and looked at his siblings. He was mad but knew he had to keep calm in front of his family. He sat next to Karlie. She noticed he was in distress and put her hand on his leg. 

Half an hour passed when Thomas’s phone beeped. Everyone looked at him as he turned on his phone.

“Father’s will came in,” he said.

All of the siblings in the room got quiet.

“The will says that everything in his estate is going…” Thomas paused and looked up at everyone.

“What,” Noah and Jakob said.

“It says that everything goes to Harry,” Thomas said.

“That can’t be,” Noah said.

“Bullshit,” Jakob said.

Thomas walked over to Harry, showing him the will.

“Don’t you have anything to say,” Jakob said.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Harry said, “why would he give me everything?”

“You know you were always his favorite,” Noah said.

Jakob got up angrily and walked out of the room.

“What is there,” Harry asked.

“The mansion, the cars, the money. You get everything,” Thomas said, “what are you going to do with all of that anyways.”

“I don’t know,” Harry looked to Karlie and Amelia, “what do you think, honey.”

“Do what you think is right,” Karlie said.

Harry looked at Thomas and thought for a minute. He knew what he needed to do with it.

“I-I’ll give it all to charity,” Harry said.

Thomas and Noah looked at him angrily.

“You know dad wouldn’t have given me everything if he knew I wouldn’t have given it to charity,” he continued.

“Tell Jakob that then,” Noah said.

Harry walked out of the hospital room and approached Jakob.

“I decided what I am going to do with father’s estate,” Harry said.

“And that is,” Jakob said, walking up to Harry.

“I’ve decided to give it all to char-“ Harry stopped talking.

Harry felt something sharp puncture his stomach.

“What have you done,” Harry said, pulling a knife out of his stomach.

An alarm went off in the hospital as security ran to Harry, taking Jakob away. Everything went blurry, and Harry’s hearing muffled. He could barely hear Jakobs yelling. The security put pressure on his stomach as the nurses came over.

Karlie and Amelia walked out of the room seeing Harry sitting on the floor, with a hand on his stomach. Everything became black in Harry’s vision.

Harry passed out.