Save Judgement for the End

Submitted into Contest #59 in response to: Set your story in a small town where everyone is suspicious of newcomers.... view prompt

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Drama

Ah… a small isolated town. The very definition of a wholesome community. Everyone knows each other, all know the events of the town no matter how small, people are friends with one another, and there is no need for big city business! Well… maybe not the last point, considering that the whole town is centered around a single assembly plant for one of the bigger international auto manufacturing players. With numerous loading workers coming in delivering materials and taking finished goods by rail and the big corporate managers coming over to make sure the plant is producing. They never stay longer than a day, which has suited the locals just fine. All was well for many, many years. Life went on without incident or issue… At least until corporate started to change…

Whatever changes the plant’s owner is going through; tech advancements, new locations, outsourcing, downsizing; it doesn’t matter to the people of the town. The plant currently has a couple of year-long contracts to complete, but that’s just borrowed time at best. Anxiety runs throughout the town with an uncertain future. All the adults’ livelihoods are in danger and many of the younger folks were educated and prepared to be able to work with the machinery. Its as if the rug was pulled out from underneath their feet.

A month into the crisis, the entire town of a few hundred gathered up into the main square. The mayor and his commissioners are attempting to hash out a plan for the future in a public forum. A third of the way into their meeting, a very strange and ugly grey truck pulls into the area. It stops in front of the plaza, drops off a passenger, and slinks off so quietly its unsettling. There left is a smiling near old man, with a very clean face and haircut, wearing a very thick trench coat. The sight of the strange vehicle and now the stranger stops the meeting cold; the locals staring at the man. He speaks up:

“Hello! My name is Michaelangelo! Like the artist!” He says in a jolly manner “Don’t mind me! I’ll be respectful!”

He moves towards a corner of the plaza, trying to look less noticeable, giving hand signals that the public meeting can resume. It does, but the new attendee stands out like a sore thumb to the many people of this town. In the end, the town has a few options to explore, ranging from bribing the factory owners to make sure the plant stays or trying to attract new companies to invest in the town, though none of them are anywhere near ideal. Once the meeting ends, the stranger goes up to many individuals leaving. Asking them all sorts of questions about the town; what there is to do, what are the people like, and what sort of jobs the locals do? While the first few do give some detailed responses, the further he questions the simpler they get. Up until it becomes single word returns. Never losing his smile through it all. Once the plaza has emptied out, he marches his way into town hall for some reason.

Instead of talking about the plans to save the town, the people start to talk about the strangers’ arrival. His odd questions they’ve never had to ask about, the strange way of dressing, and his vehicle combing through the town. Rumors began circulating. Some of the more innocuous rumors are he’s a corporate executive or some sort of traveler passing through town; many around those lines. Of course sinister and conspiratorial thoughts easily floated between the townies and children. Like he’s some sort of spy trying to take over and destroy their homes! His truck driver is building a map of targets and taking pictures of everyone and everything. What is universal, they can’t get over the amount of joy in his very being during these troubling times…

That evening at the towns’ greatest watering hole, more popular than ever these days. So many folks gathered, attempting to be merry and or drowning their sorrows. Whichever is easier. The events of the day still on the minds of everyone. Some of the workers mention seeing the stranger walking throughout the factory in full protective gear. Inspecting the machines and talking to them about their work. Never directly interfering or telling them what to do. Just taking up moments of their time. Same disconcerting joyous face and tone… Well into happy hour, the stranger Michelangelo comes through the door! Grabbing much more attention than anyone else would doing the same. He quietly greets the folks he passes by, on his way to the bar.

“Hello there Mr. bartender! I would very much like a Long Island Iced Tea with lime juice please!” He says.

“Sure…” The town bartender says “You sure you can pay?”

“Why of course! It would be silly not to!”

He pulls out his wallet, putting down a bill much bigger than what the drink would cost.

“Keep the change my good man!”

With the stranger in their presence, the people began to talk about other more innocuous things. Recent weather, what they’ve seen on TV, stuff that they didn’t consider important. Minus a few others that’ve had a few too many inebriations. The bartender, being braver than most, begins conversing with the stranger.

“So what brings you to our little town?” He says

“Business!” Michelangelo says “I’ve come to check out the factory.”

“What for?”

Just as Michelangelo is beginning to respond, one of the more drunken customers stumbles towards the strange man. Bottle in hand.

“Yooooooouuu-hoo-hoo…” The man said

“I beg your pardon good sir?” The stranger says.

“You… you want to take our jobs away! You are!”

“Oh-hoho! My good man. I’m not-”

“No! You… you’re going to kill out town! With your fancy coats and… plastic smiles!”

The room has become a great deal more quiet as the drunk talks with the stranger. Only the residual sounds of glasses being picked up and put down. Folks clearly eavesdropping on the scene. Michelangelo finally drops his smile… down to a frown…

“Look man, I’m sorry about the factory, but please listen-” He says before getting cut off

“Now listen here!” The drunk says “We’ve been working happily here for generations before you lot have… have…”

The stranger turns back to the bar, slams down the rest of his drink, and turns to the bartender.

“I’ll get out of your hair.” He says.

“By all means.” The bartender says

“Hey! Get back here!” Says the drunkard as he stumbles about

The stranger starts heading out of the bar, followed closely by the inebriated man. The latter continues to shout at the former. Pouring out his anxieties as if the stranger was to blame. Michelangelo’s ride had just parked nearby, originally intending for the driver to come inside and join him. Seeing each other, the driver stays and keeps the quiet engine warm. Midway through the parking lot, the drunkard gets tired of the stranger ignoring him, and whacks him on the back with his bottle!

“That’s for my wasted retirement plan!” The drunkard says.

Michelangelo stops to check himself. Trying to assess the damage quickly… a bruise at worst on his upper back. He decides to retaliate, with a quick and sudden sucker punch to the face! Crunching the townie’s nose and sending him onto the pavement! All the while screaming and yelling as if he were getting murdered. This brand-new scene draws much of the establishment’s patrons out to investigate what has happened. The stranger faces them, putting both hands up while wearing a neutral face.

“It was self-defense people. He-” He begins to say

“You’re under arrest for assault!”

A police officer comes out of the crowd interruptingly. Obviously just off his shift. The officer arrests Michelangelo! Putting his hands behind his back and cuffing them!

“You’re making a mistake! The cameras say-”

“We don’t need no cameras here boy! Especially with all these witnesses!”

“No! You’re making a-”

“Shut up!”

All of Michelangelo’s protests went unheard as more off duty police show up. They escort him to the police station a block down from the bar. The truck moves into the police parking lot, attempting to follow, but the stranger is already booked into the holding cells. The night shift has already begun and visiting hours are over…

Very early the next morning, Michelangelo wakes up to the sheriff, sitting in a chair on the other side of the jail bars.

“Awake sunshine?” The sheriff says

“Yeah. You talk to my lawyer yet?” Michelangelo says

“Yeah right. So… care to tell me what happened last night?”

“Went to the bar for a drink or two, was waiting for a friend, man was harassing me, I left, he followed, he whacked me with a bottle, and I retaliated. It was all caught on camera.”

“Hehehe… you’re a funny man.”

“Come again?”

“See, there in the big city; you can’t trust the word of your fellow man. Here, you can.”

“That… doesn’t make sense. Given all the possibilities that-”

“Listen here boy. The many folks visiting that night, even my own deputies, reported you beating Mr. Smith to death with his own bottle in the heat of an argument. You’re lucky you didn’t kill him.”

“… What? But the cameras-“

“There are no cameras boy! Now, you better-”

“Not the bar’s cameras! Mine! My truck is equipped with traffic cams all over for insurance purposes! Recording at all times into RAM until something happens. Manually and automatically. My lawyer was in the car and has the tapes! He should be here any moment now. If he hasn’t visited last night.”

“Lawyer?”

The doors to the lobby burst open. In comes a deputy and a very sharply dressed man. He’s no local like Michelangelo. He goes up to the sheriff and shoves a tablet computer into his hands.

“Look at this!” The lawyer says “And then determine who committed assault!”

The video plays out. In the meantime, the lawyer checks up on his friend in the cell.

“Hey, you alright man?” The lawyer says

“Yeah, I am.” Says Michelangelo “They wouldn’t listen to you out there?”

“Had to come back during the day, no excuses then.”

“Good, good. Thanks friend.”

Once the video is finished, the sheriff orders the deputy to open the jail cell. Walking out into the lobby, the same drunkard was talking with another officer. Attempting to give the same embellished story now that he’s sober. The man rushes up to Michelangelo on sight! Yelling with his now nasally voice.

“You! Back for more! Come on! Put em’ up!” He says

“No, I’m not.” Michelangelo says

“The case is getting dropped due to video evidence.” The sheriff pipes

The former drunkard begins to sputter in anger, demanding compensation and pouring out his general anger in a verbal rant. To which the three facing him hold onto neutral expressions.

“No one wants you here you commie! And another thing! I… I…” The man says out of breath

“You done?” Michelangelo says.

“No! Just… just who do you think you are?”

“An engineer turned entrepreneur. I was here looking at the factory, hoping to turn it into an advanced alloy mill.”

“No! I- Wait… what?”

The room turns in attention to the two out of towners.

“Yeah, it’s a nice piece of real estate.” Michelangelo adds “It’s got a railway loading connection, not too far from some ports, and the market’s just right for some patents me and my friends have. We’ve got investment agreements ready and everything.”

“B-but- I… you?” The man says stutteringly

“You?” The sheriff says “You were going to save this town?”

“I was. But given how this town has reacted. I don’t think even pressing charges for assault on this man will stick.”

“But we-” The man stutters

 “No… I understand completely. We are not wanted here. I will leave to never return. Goodbye.”

And so the near old Michelangelo and is lawyer friend leave, among mouths agape throughout the station. Service members and locals alike. They climb into their truck. Leaving silently like the night; despite it being late morning. The towns’ factory has since floated between various different holding companies, none of them particularly interested in bringing it out of its zombie like state. The inevitable looms over the town, just as before. No solution or savior in sight…

September 15, 2020 22:38

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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