One Small Deed

Bobby had been sitting in the cafe for what felt like half a day. His short red hair was obscured by a baseball cap and his hands shook from the four coffees he had downed while waiting. He could have left the journal with one of the baristas. They probably had a lost and found box, but his conscience couldn't let go of the journal until he gave it to her directly. 

Bobby had read a little from her journal, just enough to find out how to return it to her. Her name was Helen. It was scrawled all over the journal in a tight, flowing script. She worked at a law firm. He wasn't a bad guy. If you lost a wallet, you'd want someone to look through and find your information, so they can give it back to you. Bobby didn't expect her to pay him some finder's fee, but he knew one good act can go a long way. 

He eyed the journal, with its floral design and frayed edges. If she didn’t show up at the cafe today, he might need to track her down. His curiosity got the better of him, his hand cracking open the book. Whatever was inside might help him find her. 

November 19th

It has been a long week. Someone stole my clothes at the gym. I got a uti. And to top it all off, I'm pissed at my boss. He keeps staring at my ass like I’m gonna somehow thank him for it. I mean, creepy much? The last time I had sex with a coworker taught me that it's never as good as you think it's gonna be. The whole allure is you can't be together, so what happens when you finally cross the line? It fizzles out. The whole fun was in the imagining and now you don't need to imagine. 

Bobby knew how she felt. Fantasy felt more real than reality these days. He had been waiting all morning in this cafe because of a fantasy. He knew that, but some fantasies come true. He stretched and accidentally knocked over his coffee, some of it spilling onto the journal. 

"Shit," he said, dabbing at the book with a napkin. If she asked, he found the journal like this. Once he was sure it was dry he kept reading.  

November 22nd-

I went on a date tonight. The weird part is someone sent me a drink while I was on the date. The waiter wouldn't say who it came from and I sure as hell wasn't going to drink it. Too many creeps out there. The guy I was on the date with wasn’t too bad, but he was such a bore. All he could talk about was himself. I don't know what's wrong with men today. He wanted to split the bill too. Said it was "feminist." What a load of bullshit. So I left early and called a cab. He offered to give me a ride, but I know one ride leads to another and the thought of being with him made me dry as the Sahara. Why can't men be like they are in the stories? I'm not asking for too much. A little romance. A little mystery. A lot of sex. Instead, we get douchebags or glorified man-children. I just need someone to take charge. 

Good to know, he thought. He could be more assertive. Bobby straightened his back and smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes. He was getting a little impatient. What if she didn't show up today? He skimmed through the journal, wondering if her address was hidden somewhere within the pages. 

November 25th-

I know it's gonna sound paranoid, but I think this is the one place I can say paranoid shit because no one will ever hear it. I think I'm being followed. I can't say why. It's just a feeling. Things not being the way I left them. Objects go missing. I'm not crazy. I know people think I'm this vulnerable woman, that I need protecting, which is why I went to the store today to change that. I feel safer knowing I've got it, just in case someone tries something. Is it bad that I sort of want something to happen now? 

Bobby pursed his lips. What did that mean? He didn't have time to figure it out, as the door swung open and in walked the lady in question. 

There she was. Pale skin, dark hair and eyes. Helen wore a long skirt and a shirt that exposed her shoulders. She was more beautiful up close. He had only ever seen her at a distance before. 

Helen looked his way, and he quickly averted his eyes. He hid the journal in his bag. He couldn't let her see he'd been reading it. She approached the counter and ordered a drink. His heart was in his throat. Did be approach her now? No, too soon. What if she thought he was a creep? No, he was doing the right thing. She would be grateful he had returned the journal. Nothing to worry about. 

Helen sat down to drink. Now go up to her, he thought to himself, but his ass stayed rooted to the chair. She would know. She would see right through him. He thought of her journal entry. Just take charge. 

Bobby pulled the journal out of his bag. Helen got up and made for the door. He followed her at a distance he decided was not creepy. He followed her down the sidewalk outside before she wheeled around, her bag clutched to her chest. 

"Oh sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you Helen?"

"Yes," Helen said. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I know you. I mean, I have something of yours." He handed her the journal. Her eyebrows shot up. 

"Where did you find this? I haven't seen it in days." She flipped it open. It opened right to the coffee-stained pages. "Did you read this?"

"No, of course not,” Bobby said. “I mean, just enough to find out how to return it to you. I found the name of this place in there. I just wanted to do something nice, and I was hoping..."

"Hoping? 

"I was hoping we could get to know each other. Since I found your journal. I'll buy you a coffee. 

"I've already had a coffee,” she said, “but you know that. I saw you in there, which means you saw me. Have you been following me?” 

"What? Absolutely not. I read in the journal that you like this place. That's all." 

"Okay," she said, putting the journal in her purse. "Well thank you. Have a good day." She turned to go. 

"That's it? Don't you want to know what kind of guy helped you out? I know you like guys who take charge. Let me take you out." 

"Are you serious? Are you trying to use this to ask me out? That's so creepy." 

Bobby could feel his face going red. “You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” Helen said, taking a step back.

"This isn't how I wanted this to go," Bobby said.

“Oh my god, it’s you, isn’t it? The guy who has been following me. Did you steal my journal?”

He stepped forward and grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away but he was too strong. 

"I just needed an in. You would never talk to a guy like me without a good reason. Don't look at me like that," he said. "I'm not a bad guy." 

She slapped him across the side of his face, his ear ringing. "You bitch." He shoved her onto the ground and stood over her, his breath coming quick and ragged. "I'm not asking for much." 

Bobby leaned in to kiss her. The next moment he was on the ground, his teeth rattling in his skull, his pants dampening. He gasped for air after the pain stopped, his face on the hard concrete, drool pooling around him. What had she hit him with?

"You bitch. I'll kill you."

Again, the pain rocked through him as he convulsed, his head knocking against the ground. Helen stood over him, her eyes wide, a pink taser in her hand. 

“Stay away from me,” she said. “Or else.”

November 28th-

It happened. I was right. Some creep has been following me. He stole my journal and tried to make himself seem like some white knight. I did what I had to do. I can't go to sleep. I called the cops, but they haven’t been able to find the guy. I have locked and relocked the door a dozen times, checked to make sure the taser is charged, and taken three showers. I’m afraid, not just of the man returning, but of what I might do if he does. In that moment, with the taser in his back, I liked it. The cops may not be able to find the prick, but I know one thing: if he finds me before they find him, he’s going to die.