part0026

She laughed, crumbs flying and hitting the table, causing her slap a hand over her mouth and laugh some more, before washing the cookie down with water. Finished, she let out a final chuckle, straightened herself up, and squinted again as she read: “Be kind to strangers .”

“That’s it.” She tossed the fortune on the table.

Darren picked it up and read it himself. “Lame.”

“What’s yours say?”

Darren cracked his cookie, and pulled out the little strip of paper.

“Gotta eat it first,” she warned.

He winked at her and then did as she’d done, shoving both halves into his mouth at once before reading.

“Ooh…what if it says you have to go down on me ?” she teased.

He, too, spoke with his mouth full, crumbs flying. “Then it means you picked up the wrong cookie.”

Julie laughed again. Only six months they’d been together, and yet it seemed like forever. The good forever, not the prison sentence. As if everything before Darren was from some past life, not worth remembering.

“So, what’s it say?” she asked again .

Darren read it and laughed.

He handed it over. Julie read it, frowned, then read it aloud. “Be kind to strangers .” She glanced up him. “Weird.”

“I think the people here write the fortunes, themselves,” he said. “This is their way of angling for a big tip.”

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Julie countered.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know—like a cosmic sign or something.”

Darren snorted and sipped the last of his tea from the little white cup.

“I’m being serious.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Yin and Yang, we are. I swear.”

Yin and yang indeed. But they made it work. Julie’s forever optimism more than enough to compensate for his indomitable skepticism.

Julie matched Darren’s smile with a grin, reached across the table and took one of his hands in both of hers. “I have an idea.”

She ignored him. “You ever hear of ‘paying it forward’?”

The waiter approached again, glanced down at the small black vinyl folder that held their bill and spotted no cash or credit card poking out just yet. He asked if they’d like something else.

“Can you give us a few more minutes please?” Julie asked .

The waiter eyed them cautiously for a moment before leaving. They were a nice-looking couple, but they were young—Darren twenty-two, Julie twenty-one. Young couples sometimes found it amusing to eat and run. Julie, however, had something else, entirely, in mind.

Julie leaned in and asked again. “Have you ever heard of it?”

“Paying it forward? Yeah, it’s like do something nice for someone in hopes that they’ll pass the act on to the next person, and so on, and so on, right?”

“Exactly.” Julie leaned in further, getting excited. “I just read about this one where this lady was buying groceries with her kids, except she forgot her wallet at home. So, she’s like all embarrassed and about to turn around to put all the stuff back, but this guy behind her offers to pay for her groceries—and there were a lot —on the condition that she pay it forward and does something nice for some stranger the next chance she gets. Isn’t that awesome?”

She squeezed his hand. “Stop . I think we should do it.”

“Go to the supermarket and wait for someone to forget their wallet?”

“Do it here. Now.”

Darren frowned and looked around the restaurant. It was modestly filled. A few families with kids, an older couple, a man sitting by himself. “There’s like ten people here. What are the odds someone forgot their money? ”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting. I’m saying we just pay for their meal.”

Darren pulled a face. “Meh—I’m not sure most people would go for that, Jules. I mean forgetting your money is one thing, but offering to pay for their meal…”

“No, you don’t offer, you just do it. We would bring the waiter over, tell him we’d like to pay for someone’s meal, but tell him not to say anything until after we’re gone. That way, they can’t object. We can also leave a little note on the check telling them to pay it forward next chance they get.” She grinned like a kid.

Darren released yet another groan. A defeated groan. A groan Julie knew well. She let out a little squeak of excitement and bounced in her seat. “I love you,” she said.

“I know.” He scanned the restaurant again. “So who’s getting a free meal?”

Still grinning, Julie scanned the restaurant, too. She immediately stopped on the man sitting by himself. Julie guessed him in his late forties. Salt and pepper hair cropped short to mitigate the thinning in front. He seemed of average build and height from his seated position by the far corner of the restaurant near the storefront window, its neon “open” sign casting a flickering red across his tablecloth. He was staring absently out the storefront window as he ate, everything about him seemingly in slow motion, the way he chewed, the way he swallowed, even the way he blinked, which was not seldom in his constant gaze out the window, though when he did, each blink was followed by a slight startled expression, as though shocked to find himself siting in a Chinese restaurant. The man did indeed look lonely, but more so, he looked lost. To Julie, there was a difference. Loneliness could be fixed, as she so wonderfully found with Darren just six months ago. Lost was…lost could be anything.

“Him.” She gestured subtly to the man by the storefront window.

Darren looked. “Why him?”

“He looks—I don’t know, sad kinda. Lost.”

“And our buying his food is going to fix him?”

Julie gave a frustrated, yet undeterred, sigh. “The gesture is. Kindness begets Kindness. Pay it forward.”

“Lest the fortune cookie gods strike us down.”

Julie grinned again and called the waiter over.

“I told you, the food doesn’t matter; it’s the gesture. When the waiter goes over and tells him what we did, he’ll be just as touched as if he’d ordered a ten course meal.”

Darren snorted. “You do know the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, don’t you? ”

She leaned over and stroked the inside of his thigh. “I thought it was this.”

Darren took his eyes off the road for a tick. She was looking up at him with the contradictory, yet exquisite, combo of innocently naughty eyes.

“Any chance we can pretend one of those fortune cookies actually said what you thought it might?” he asked.

Still the hand on the thigh, still the innocently naughty eyes. “We can’t; we’re not in the restaurant anymore.”

“The location doesn’t matter; it’s the gesture ,” he said, ridiculously pleased with himself for recycling her own words, especially at a time when blood to the brain was funneling south.

Julie laughed. Slid her hand further up his thigh.

“Wait, stop—stop .”

She stopped. “What?”

Darren didn’t reply. His gaze was fixed on the rearview mirror. Julie spun in her seat and looked out the back window to see for herself. Someone was riding their tail big time.

“Who is that?” she asked.

“No idea,” Darren muttered.

Boom—high beams now. Darren squinted into the rearview and cursed under his breath.

“Just slow down and let them pass,” Julie said.

Darren did. The car behind slowed with them, the high beams now flickering, accompanied by bleats of the horn .

“Maybe you’ve got a flat and they’re trying to tell you,” Julie said.

“We’d know if we had a flat.”

“Well, pull over and see what they want then,” she said.

The absurd suggestion spun his head her way. “Are you nuts? ” He was suddenly angry—angry at the car behind them, and angry at his girlfriend’s naiveté. What would she have done if he wasn’t here? “It could be a fucking psychopath behind us,” he said.

Still the flashing high beams, still the horn, and goddam if the sonofabitch’s bumper wasn’t nearly touching theirs.

“What if they’re hurt?” she asked.

“They can’t be that hurt if they can drive a car. If it’s an emergency, they can go around us. I slowed down for them, you saw it.”

“Pull over at the next stop then,” Julie said.

There was no next stop. Bucks County dabbled in affluent, but its heart would always belong to rural—dark back roads that seemingly (now especially) went on forever.

The car suddenly cut into the oncoming lane, gunned its engine and pulled up alongside them. Both Darren and Julie instantly looked left. The interior of the car was black, nothing but a faint silhouette behind the wheel. No one in the passenger seat or in back.

Darren gave a demonstrative splay of the hands. What the hell do you want? it clearly read.

The car’s interior light clicked on. The driver came into view.

Julie leaned left. “It’s him! The man from the restaurant! ”

Darren winced from her yell. “I see that.”

The man continued driving next to them in the oncoming lane. The sick irony that no oncoming cars had since approached during the whole ordeal was anything but lost on Darren.

“So then what’s he doing?” Julie asked, sounding somewhat less panicked, as if paying for this man’s food had somehow given them immunity to any wrongdoings from the guy should he turn out to be Ted Bundy.

The man’s passenger side window slid down. He then made a rolling gesture with his right hand, urging Darren and Julie to do the same.

Darren obliged but only cracked his window a few inches, just enough to hear. They cruised next to each other at just under twenty-five miles an hour now. Still no approaching cars in the oncoming lane.

“Why did you do that?” the man called through his passenger window. “Why did you pay for my meal?”

“Geez, you’re welcome, buddy,” Darren muttered to Julie. Then, through the crack in his driver’s side window: “Just being friendly, that’s all! Be careful, man.” Darren gestured towards the oncoming lane.

The man ignored Darren’s gesture, kept right on cruising in the oncoming lane. “Being friendly?” he called over. “Like being good to your fellow man at your own expense?”

“Are you kidding me?” Darren muttered again. “This guy’s gonna fucking kill someone. ”

“You think we offended him?” Julie asked. “Maybe he’s one of those guys who’s proud to a fault, you know?”

Darren knew the type well. His old man. He remembered the first time he’d tried to buy his father a beer, how excited he’d been. A rite of passage of sorts for any newly crowned twenty-one-year-old boy—buying his old man a beer. His father had instantly refused, and with none too much disgust. He’d buy his own goddamn beers, he’d told his son.

The thought of his father poked Darren’s temper. He called out the window: “What’s your problem, man!? ”

Julie leaned over Darren’s lap. “We were just trying to pay it forward!”

The man suddenly cut right, slicing into their car. Sparks flew up the driver’s side window. Julie screamed. Darren fought the wheel and ended up stomping the brakes in panic, the car fishtailing before swerving off the road and stopping just shy of rolling over the wooded embankment.

The man stopped his own vehicle about twenty yards ahead of them.

A moment of surreal pause as Darren and Julie sat motionless in the idling car, rapid breathing their only capable sounds.

Finally, in barely a whisper, Darren asked: “Are you okay?”

The white of the man’s reverse lights came to life up ahead. He was coming back .

Darren threw the car into reverse, hit the accelerator, and the tires spun uselessly in the muddy ridge above the embankment.

“Turn the wheel! ” Julie cried.

He did. Left then right then left again, each crank as useless as the last. Darren opened the driver door and hurried out.

“What are you doing!? ”

“I’ve got to push! Get behind the wheel! ” He glanced over his shoulder. The man’s car continued to back slowly towards them. “Hurry up! ”

Darren put his body behind the front bumper and pushed with every ounce of strength he had, the tires continuing to spin uselessly as Julie kept her foot on the accelerator.

Darren looked over his shoulder again. The car was upon them now, the white reverse lights clicking off, leaving only the red glow of the brakes. The driver’s side door opened.

Darren rushed back to the driver’s side door of his own car. “Lock the doors and call 911! ” he yelled to Julie through the glass. “OKAY!? LOCK THE DOORS AND CALL 911! ”

Julie nodded, locked the doors, clicked on the overhead light, spun in her seat, and began frantically digging throughout the car for her cell phone. She spotted it on the passenger side floor and instantly snatched it up.

Two small explosions outside made her scream and jerk bolt upright .

She turned off the overhead light and peered through the windshield and into the dark beyond. She saw only the man’s idling car straight ahead. No Darren. No man.

Julie cracked the driver’s side window an inch. “Darren!? ”

The passenger side window exploded. Julie screeched and made a frantic climb into the back seat. The man reached in, groping for her.

The man’s entire torso had now wormed its way into the car.

Julie frantically kicked at his attempts to snatch her ankles. “SOMEBODY, PLEASE!!! ”

The oncoming lane finally shone headlights of an approaching car in the distance. Julie’s face clicked from terror to hope. She whipped her head back towards the man, and they stared at one another for an odd spell, neither flinching.

The approaching lights grew stronger. Julie turned towards them once more, turned back and the man was gone.

Julie did not hesitate. She opened the back door and fell out onto the road. Scrambled to her feet and immediately ran to the oncoming lane where she began jumping, screaming, waving at the oncoming car.

The car swerved right around her and kept on going.

Julie spun after it. “WAIT! COME BACK!!! ”

The sound of someone approaching from behind now.

Julie slowly turned, and of course it was him. In his hand was a gun. Behind him, Julie could just make out the silhouette of Darren’s body face down on the side of the road. Moonlight caught and reflected its shine in the small black pool encircling his head. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry.

“It’s okay,” the man said with a reassuring smile. “I understand everything. I really do.” He gestured to the fleeing car’s shrinking lights in the distance. “You see? That’s all the proof you need. It truly was meant to be, Mary.”

For a brief moment, Julie’s confusion overrode her fear. She frowned. “Who? ”

The man brought the gun down onto the side of Julie’s head, dropping her cold. Stewart Paul then tilted his head skyward, closed his eyes, breathed in the night air, and smiled lovingly towards the heavens.

This was the one. He was sure of it.

When the waitress had told Stewart his check had been paid for back at the restaurant, he’d all but flipped the table darting after the couple. Witnesses, sure, but Stewart was sure that if this was indeed to be the one, He would protect him, just as He protected him only moments ago when the car had refused to stop. Besides, the restaurant didn’t have Stewart’s name on file from the debit card in which he’d intended to pay.

He’d been paid forward.

Stewart bent and dragged Mary back to his car. Loaded her into the trunk along with His body. Not a single car drove by during the process. What more proof did he need?

Stewart Paul descended his basement stairs, humming the hymn he’d heard that morning at church. He’d so badly wanted to tell everyone what he had waiting for him at home, but simply couldn’t risk it, just yet. And, truth be told, a hint of selfishness tugged at his reasoning for secrecy too: he’d wanted to be the first to bear witness. Well, he and Mary Magdalene, of course.

Despite his wanting to bear witness, there was a part of Stewart that hoped he would descend and find himself in an empty basement. The casket open and vacant, Mary no longer bound in her chair at the foot of the casket, the two of them gone. Yes, to witness his life’s purpose come to fruition before his very eyes, would have been breathtaking indeed, but there was something magical about the prospect of it all happening in his absence, stirring memories of Christmas morning as a boy, the base of the tree brimming with gifts, when it was bare as could be only the night before. All of it happening in his absence as he slept.

Except Santa Claus was not real. His Lord and Savior was. And this Easter morning, Stewart Paul would watch his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ rise from the dead, his faithful companion, Mary Magdalene, at his side. And it would be glorious .

Taking the basement stairs two at a time now in his eagerness, Stewart was both disappointed and relieved to find Mary still bound and gagged in her chair at the foot of the casket, the casket lid still closed.

Disappointed: something magical had not happened in his absence.

Relieved: something magical would now happen in his presence.

Mary lifted her head slowly upon Stewart’s arrival. She gave a weak moan through her gag. The fear and exhaustion in her eyes tugged at Stewart’s heart.

“I know it’s been tough,” Stewart said, “I do.” He placed a hand on her head, and brushed a lock of hair from her face. She was too weak to fight it. “But, the time has now come. I assure you, I will convey your loyalty to Him, during this ordeal. Think of how pleased He will be.” Stewart stroked her cheek. This time she flinched. Stewart smiled. “I understand. You are as eager to begin as I am, aren’t you?” Stewart positioned himself alongside the casket, beamed and said: “Well then, I believe the expression is, without further ado ?”

Stewart opened the casket and peered inside. His eager smile dropped. He quickly reached inside and inspected His body. Placed two fingers to His neck. No pulse. Worse still, the gunshot wounds to the head and body were still there, the surrounding tissue already beginning to decay. And the smell…

Stewart slammed the casket lid shut, draped his body over the lid, and wept.

Dusk had just begun to gray the light, when Stewart finished. He patted the soil flat with the back of the shovel, then checked the sturdiness of the two makeshift crosses he’d inserted at the head of each grave. They held firm.

His back and shoulders aching from the day’s effort, Stewart trudged his way back to the house, thinking about what might have been. He’d been so sure.

Giving one final glance back towards the dozens of crosses erected and spread out across his land (some far more weathered than others; they would need replacing soon, he took note), Stewart refused to let this year’s experience deter him. When the time did come, his Lord and Savior would reward him for his perseverance. His patience. His faith.