Protecting Heather
by
Stephen Smith
This is a work of fantasy and fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under legal age in real life.
Epilogue
A row of ancient park benches ran alongside the path. From here, he could look up and across a mere mile of water at the lights of the oldest and most iconic bridge in the city. With it’s arched towering support columns and cable suspension all festooned with lights, it seemed to float above the water like some alien spacecraft seeking a spot to land amid the crowded tenements and blackened warehouses.
Even at this hour, the occasional jogger would fly past. No one would ever suspect that fine ladies in their bell shaped dressed and parasols once strolled these grounds. Like the tendrils of fog that crept from the water seeking the path, these ghosts were whisked away by a young man charging down the path with his hood up against the chill evening air.
Johnny B. looked away from the scene, back down at the duffel bag sitting on the bench next to him. Two other times already, he sat in the very same spot wondered if he had the guts to step up and do what he knew he had to do, once this latest jogger had rounded the corner.
Just step right up to the water’s edge and chuck this thing into it. That’s what I’ll do.
But the jogger was soon puffing his way around and out of sight. For the first time in the last half hour, it was just him, the bag, and the bridge.
Sweat broke out on Johnny’s forehead. He got up, looked around, stepped right up to the rail.
C’mon, you pussy! Throw it!
But Johnny just stood there, tensed, as the bridge lights stared back down at him from a mile away. A full minute he stood there, then he trudged back to the bench and sat down. In the far distance, he could make out the moving shadow of the next jogger in the line.
He put his head in his hands.
What am I gonna do with this stuff!? We’re all supposed to start tightening up ship. Getting behind the new program. And who’d have figured, they’d tag Nick for the post! And that girl had been his daughter all this time! Which meant, that Amy had been his girl, and not T’s girl all along.
He put his hands into the bag and peeked in again at the clear plastic bag, taped into a solid package. With this much stuff, he knew he could buy himself a new ticket in life. He also knew who would punch his ticket if he was caught trying to move it. He could easily imagine himself buried with it, after being force-fed several ounces first.
If Nick ever found out, it’d break his heart, right before he snuffs me.
With a heavy sigh, he zipped up the bag again, shouldered the strap, and began the walk back towards the floating lights of the bridge. At that moment, Johnny felt the closest thing to true shame and remorse that he was capable of. This, his third time going down to the water, would be the last time he would make the trip.