By: Katelyn Tijerina
A man walked along a darkened street heading home from a long day’s labor. He felt a strong tug at his long overcoat as he strolled past an ally. He was yanked back and shoved deeper into the ally. He spun around and although it was dark, he could clearly see the face of the perpetrator. Blonde hair stuck up in all directions, as one might look when one put a fork in an outlet. The man had crazed blue eyes and a brown overcoat. His hand wasn’t through one of the sides and instead held a gun at his waist pointed towards the laborer.
“Give me your money” The laborer did not seem distressed and anxiousness crept into the perpetrator’s mind. The laborer looked once at the gun then leaned back against the brick wall. Confusion rose up in confuddled bubbles in the perpetrator’s mind. “Give me your money” He cried once more
The laborer smiled and said “You point the gun at me as if it’s some sort of threat” The perpetrator stood in confused silence while the laborer went on “You point the gun at me as if I haven’t sat on the cold wood of my apartment and cried, putting the taste of stinging metallic in my mouth, tasting the gun powder, feeling the trigger and willing myself not to for the sake of my mother. You point that weapon and me as if I haven’t wondered how bad it would feel if I swallowed the jumble of pills in my hand. You threaten my life as if every time I am near a railing at a height the thought ‘what if?’ doesn’t float into my mind.” His voice rose and the perpetrator was downright terrified “As if every time I held a knife, I put it to my wrist then dropped it with shaking hands. I have come to close to Death to fear it, Death is a friend I’m all to welcome to invite in, I feel it close to me every day I walk home from this miserable job to a miserable lonely apartment. You could shoot me, you could shoot me in the heart or you could shoot me in the chest or the stomach. You could watch me bleed” His eyes wild the perpetrator shaking “You could watch the light go out in my eyes, turn my lifeless body around, and take the wallet from my left back pocket. But you know what’s worse?” The laborer seemed to tower over the perpetrator leaving a shadow over his face, he shook his head frantically “Living, I dare you. shoot me. you’d be doing me a fucking favor” He started screaming “And you know what? You could kill me but over what?” The laborer pulled out his wallet from his left back pocket and opened up his wallet towards the floor. A dollar and a couple of coins fell out, a credit card, and a picture that fell in a small puddle. The gun dropped to the ground as the perpetrator cowered in fear “Now, go! Make an honest living instead of stealing from laborers who don’t have money” The perpetrator didn’t move “Make the world a better place instead of littering it with your trash” The laborer picked up the gun and handed it back by the grip. “Sell this so you do not suffer my fate,” he said calmer “Sell this and become a good man, with riches and fortunes, and ladies or men whichever you fancy, then come back to me and give me 20% in whatever you have, Now GO!” The perpetrator ran off terrified. A sudden wave of exhaustion came over the laborer. He knelt to the ground to pick up what he’d dropped. He hoped he’d made some sort of good impact or if he’d just yelled for no reason. He went home to his empty, falling apart apartment.
Years later the man was walking down the same darkened street. He felt a tug at his coat, He turned around to find a rich man with combed blonde hair and neat blue eyes
“Yes?”
“Do you remember it must’ve been ten years from this point, there was a boy who tried to rob you at gunpoint” The laborer scratched his head as one does when one tries to remember. The rich man noticed a ring on the man’s ring finger that had not been there a decade before
“I think maybe, it has been a long time”
“Well” continued the rich man “ once the man was me and you said ‘Sell this and become a good man, with riches and fortunes, then come back to me and give me 20% in whatever you have’ and I did as you said, I started making an honest pay and slowly I created my own business. I now own a successful company and would like to offer you 20% of my business.” The man stood stunned now remembering that night long ago.
“I am honored, I was not sure I made the right choice long ago and if I was right in the mind I probably wouldn’t have said those things. You keep your twenty percent for I said to you to what I needed to hear myself. I saw some part of me in you and well, I took my own advice. I now run the business I used to work and have turned it, into an empire. What business did you say you own?”
“ I work for Housing Homes Realty just over that way” The rich man pointed to the skyline where a pointed building stood. A bemused look overtook the man’s face “I didn’t catch which company you work for?”
“Why I work over there!” The man gestured towards the building on the opposite side of the city. It too was grand and tall with a pointed top. Awe came over the rich man’s face as he took in understanding
“Why you son of a bitch” He clapped the man on the back “you work for Counting Homes!” they both chuckled, the sound radiated down the street in a billow of sound. They were each other biggest competitors. The laborer who once yelled at a perpetrator and the perpetrator who got yelled at by a laborer. They both listened to the laborer’s wise words and had become equally as successful. Sometimes what those say to others were actually meant for themselves.
Inspiration from; After Twenty Years by; O. Henry
Picture from; Lashley, Joel. “Even in a Dark Alley, You’re Safe with Us.” Vistelar, 19 Dec. 2019, vistelar.com/28949/even-in-a-dark-alley-youre-safe-with-us/.
