It's What I Do

  Henry Wallace did not actively seek out people in need. To say they sought him out would not have been entirely correct also. The only way he could have explained it was that he just happened upon people in need and they upon him. Random impulses to check out a diner on the side of the road while driving or walking aimlessly until he saw where he was headed always ended in the same destination, regardless of location. It’s my superpower he joked in his head as he ambled along the park path, surely heading toward another human in need.

 A person sitting or stumbling down a sidewalk alone in need of a caring conversation. Ventilations of emotions or confessions of someone’s darkest secrets. A cathartic experience to cleanse the mind and soul through talking about what ails them to an unjudgmental audience in the form of one stranger named Henry.

  “I’m sorry,” they would always end their rants with, “I don’t know why I felt so compelled to tell you this. But I feel so much better now. Thank you.”

 “No problem. It’s just what I do,” Henry would reply with a friendly smile accompanied by a comforting hug or gentle handhold. The man or woman would always leave with a newfound glow in the eye and face-consuming smile, happy to have been able to speak their heart and receive unparalleled advice as their lives changed for the better starting right then. It had been the same story ever since he was little when classmates would confess that they had stolen toys or desserts from a peer or had a crush on the teacher. Every now and then, the occasional adult had even confided in him.

 Memories of various adults telling a juvenile and teenage Henry their dirt. Ms. Grady divorcing her abusive husband, Coach Thomas confessing to troubles with alcohol after his son passed, Mr. Derry admitting to overcharging students on field trips to feed a gambling habit. Each instructor had found peace with their demons after speaking to their listener. All but one. A vivid pictured played in Henry’s mind of a teacher confessing of an affair with a student, bringing a queasy feeling to his stomach as he strolled the electric light lit field of Carny Park as the sun descended in the sky.

 Last day of school before Christmas break, 1978, a fifteen-year-old Henry had been asked to stay back after class by the English teacher, Mr. Humphries. Relatively new to Township High School, the laid back thirty-four-year-old, with a head of blonde hair swept to the side in 1970’s fashion. The instructor was always willing to burn class time on telling jokes or discussing weekend plans and rock albums with his kids. The only time he ever got standoffish was when asked about his past before showing up to Township. That and he was occasionally caught watching his female underlings as they exited class. No one really paid attention to that kind of thing back in those days, especially since all the other guys in class watched those same girls with the same expression of a hungry wolf tracking an unsuspecting deer in the forest.

  “Hey, Henry,” Humphries started, his blue eyes held back tears from streaming down his now colorless face, “I- I’ve just gotta tell someone.”

 A fifteen-year-old Henry relented the man’s wish, he was only then catching on to his ability to attract people in need, “Yeah, of course, Mr. Humphries.”

 “You’re a good kid, Henry. I have to insist that you never tell anyone what I am about to tell you,” the stirred teacher told him.

 “I won’t tell anyone,” Henry said. He gripped his backpack and stood a bit taller than normal in case of having to defend himself. Different situations flashed through the teenager’s head as he remembered news articles and crime stories of teachers violating students. Though not one to fight, Henry wasn’t going to allow anyone, even a the cool teacher, invade him.

 “Listen, my name isn’t really Mr. Humphries,” the man said with eyes cast to the ground. He looked like an elementary school student admitting to stealing a cookie from a classmate to the principal. “At least, it hasn’t always been that. I used to be Jack Gossamer before I moved here.”

 Henry relaxed a bit, knowing he would not have to fight everyone’s favorite teacher but remained silent, not knowing how to reply. Though people had always sought after him to vent, it was not as frequent as it would become nor as serious.

 Mr. Humphries/ Mr. Gossamer continued after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, “I had an affair with sixteen-year-old student a couple years back when I was teaching down in North Carolina. That’s where I lived before here. I know it was a horrible thing to do, but I couldn’t help myself.”

 “Oh,” Henry squeaked out. There was nothing else he could think to say as his respect and adoration for the teacher was plummeting like an airplane with no wings.

 The former Jack Gossamer took a breath and wiped a tear from his eye before continuing, “We were able to keep our relationship secret for almost a whole school year before I broke things off with her. She deserved so much better, but the breakup crushed her.”

 Tears were now flowing freely from the man’s eyes as Henry only breathed heavily as a response.

 “She ended up hanging herself and writing all about us in her note,” the sobbing teacher took a moment to grab a tissue to clean himself a bit. His words were coming out increasingly shaky. “I was married to a woman I met in college and we had just had our first child. I didn’t know what to do. Sh- she was going to leave me and take our son with her and the town wanted my head on a stake. So, I left fled the state and changed my name, taking this job in a town where I thought no one would be able to track me down. Three years later and no one has, but- but I had to tell you. I don’t know why, but something about you made told me you could be trusted.”

 Not well versed in his ability to save, Henry quickly excused himself and stormed out of the classroom and the school. He did not know what to say or do, the student body’s most admired teacher had been a creep that lead a poor girl to suicide. Let the filthy bastard rot a harsh voice spoke in his mind as he left the sobbing asshole to wallow in his classroom in a fit of rage. Two days later, on Christmas Eve, Mr. Humphries had been found dead in his muscle car that was wrapped around a tree, an almost empty bottle of bottom shelf whiskey sitting between his legs. The town mourned with only Henry knowing his dirty secret, and it ate him up inside.

 Despite the man’s vile past, Henry felt like he should have been a better support to the man to make peace with the past and those he had hurt, maybe even get the guy to turn himself in. From then on, the teenaged Henry vowed to be a better listener. To use his gift to offer the best advice that his heart told him to speak to ensure things would be better for anyone who came across them and everyone else involved. He embraced his special power to save. His track record had been flawless since.

   Now thirty-two years old and living in a different state, Henry continued his Friday evening walk through the park. Smiling at all the prevented suicides, saved marriages, parent-child reunions, and countless other happy endings he had been the saving grace of, Henry whistled as he walked. He never asked for anything in return and most people hardly repaid with more than the occasional “thank you” or fitting the bill at the restaurants or bars they found each other in if they were gracious enough. A smile after tears was enough payment for Henry, who had wholly embraced his almost supernatural power to heal and help. Sometimes, he kept in touch with the individuals he had helped in the past, some had even become close friends. Occasionally, a letter or phone call would come from a former person in need to give their thanks again and update him on how well their life was going. It was always a pleasure to hear from then and discuss the goodness in each of their lives, always replying to the letters and phone calls. They helped him as much as he helped them, each conversation increasing his gift.

 The sun was almost completely disappeared from the dark blue sky. He had a long weekend off from work and had plans to meet his new girlfriend tomorrow for dinner, but tonight he strolled the town, knowing he’d find a new individual to help. Sure enough, he found one.

 A sobbing college student whose boyfriend had cheated on her and was taking out her frustrations by drug use and neglecting school. She wept her story to Henry who listened with a genuinely caring face and innocent touch on the shoulder. She was beaming by the time their conversation was done as if all her sadness and anger had been taken away by the flowing wind.

 “Thank you, Mister,” the girl had said resolving that she would overcome this setback and go back to studying to achieve her dream of becoming an environment lawyer, “I really appreciate the advice and for you listening to me complain. I don’t know what came over me, I just had to tell you.”

 “It is no problem at all, friend,” Henry replied kindly, “It’s what I do.”