The Hero of this Story

This story contains references to gun violence and child molestation.

The Hero of This Story

By

Diane Bogdan

Part 1

Paul

Most people think that after a person is pronounced guilty in a court of law, that they are immediately put on a bus, usually white, with other convicts and driven to a prison to start their sentence. The prison is at the end of a road with vast fields on either side and tended to by men in orange jumpsuits. Actually, after you are declared guilty you are led to a holding cell to await transport back to the jail you have been held in. Sometime later, you are sentenced and again you are sent back to your “home” jail to await transport to the prison you have been assigned to. The movies get it all wrong. Of course, you don’t go straight to prison. Paperwork needs to be filled, a space needs to be found, and when there are enough people going to the same prison as you a bus will be ordered to take everyone there.

         Having been just found guilty, I am in a holding cell with nine other men who have met the same fate. Guilty! Some are staring straight ahead, unable to accept this reality. Some are crying quietly. One guy is pounding the wall mumbling about killing some rat snitch when he gets out.

          I am not crying or angry. I am a hero. I saved Stacey Anne, the love of my life, from her predator step-father. No parade for me though. I have been found guilty of manslaughter. I saw Stacey Anne as I walked out but I didn’t say anything or look directly at her. She was crying on the shoulder of that dumb jock. I understand. We have to keep up the pretense that we are not a couple and that she had nothing to do with the plot to kill her step dad. She will come and see me in a few months when everything calms down.

         I knew the first time I saw her that we were meant to be together. I was teaching English and trying to stay on the straight and narrow. I mean I was really trying my best-not drinking until the end of the day, not calling Melissa even though she is now 18 and no one can stop us from being together.

As I passed by her desk, explaining the plot of “A Tale of Two Cities” for the one hundredth time, I heard her say under her breath, “I could use a boy that broken”. Of course, she was referring to Sydney Carton, the drunk and disgraced character who gives up his life for the women he longs for.

         That whole fall and into the winter I found reasons to be alone with her. She told me about her terrible homelife and I consoled her when she cried. Girls like this are looking for an older man to save them. We never did anything “inappropriate”. I couldn’t afford one more infraction but soon we would be together.

         The Monday before the incident, I walked into an ambush in the teacher’s lounge. Roberta Schmidt was the ringleader of course. Always smug about being well off. Always dominating the conversation. As soon as I sat down, she asked how ‘Tale of Two Cities’ was going.

         “The same as last year and the year before and the year before that.”

         “I saw that Stacey Anne Gallow is in your class. Not the best student but I’m sure you can help her out” Roberta said with a smirk on her face.

         I could feel the rage rising up in me so I escaped any more banter from Roberta and her coven by going outside for a cigarette. We need to be more cautious at school. At least we had our midnight phone calls. She talked about starting a life together, away from judgmental people. But first we had to eliminate her step-father. She planned everything. I’m not a violent man and couldn’t come up with a way to get rid of him.

She told me when he got home, best place to ambush him, where to stash the gun. We were so close to getting away with it but an anonymous tipster saw my license plate and soon after the gun was found. I wiped it clean but didn’t think about the bullets.

So here I am. A prisoner for at least the next ten years. I can wait for Stacy Anne and she will visit me. Afterall, I am the hero of this story.

Part 2

Stacey Anne

         I cried as the verdict was read. My distress was a signal to Paul that I still loved him. It also showed the press that I was heartbroken at the loss of Albert, my beloved step-dad. Paul was the easier sell. He was an easy mark from the beginning. We all knew that he slept with Melissa-What’s-her-name. How he wasn’t already in jail was hard to believe.

         Over the last few months Paul told me about other schools he had worked at and his other girls. He said that I was different, more mature and insightful. He was ready to settle down and I was his chosen one. Well, he was my chosen one. His shaky hands and the dark circles beneath his eyes told me he had some demons. He wanted to believe everything I said and so he did.

My boyfriend? He was just to keep up appearances. My step-dad? He was sadistic and bullied me and mom all the time. He controlled everything I did and I had to get away. “Please save me, Paul”. Well, he saved me alright. I told him where Albert kept his gun, when to ambush him and where to throw away his clothes and the weapon. He agreed with the whole plan. In fact, he was a little too eager to go along with murdering a complete stranger. If Lucy could convince Sydney to be beheaded by flirting a little, I should not be surprised that I got Paul to kill Albert.

         Paul saw himself as my savior but the jury saw him as a child molester who fixated on an innocent school girl. I feel a little bit bad that I will break his heart but what is he going to do about it? I doubt he will survive in prison.

Now it will be just me and mom like before. Plus, we will be better off with the life insurance policy. If you think about it, I did a good thing. One less predator on the streets and I spared my mom a messy divorce. Really, I’m the hero of this story. I had better duck my head so no one sees the joy on my face.

#