Page 30 of Payback
“A rather poor place to choose,” the voice stated. I turned my head abruptly, my foot slipping slightly on the iron, causing me to clutch the bar more tightly. A flash of lightning illuminated the air, revealing the enigmatic stranger before me. A man in his mid-thirties, standing on the road ahead. While he wore an unmistakably expensive suit, he seemed unperturbed by it being drenched. With hands tucked into his pockets, he smiled as he observed me.
“The fall won’t end you,” he remarked.
His words sent my heart pounding in my chest, a reaction to the sudden surprise.
“I know!” I shouted back over the clamor of rain and thunder. “I can’t swim.”
“Ah,” he responded, nodding in understanding.
“Then why not simply find a shallower area and push yourself out to where your feet can’t touch the bottom.”
“That’s not an option,” I told him.
“Why not?” he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice.
“I wouldn’t be able to get far enough out. No, it has to be quick. Fast enough that I have no choice but to surrender to the current.”
“It appears you’ve been planning this for a while.”
“Since I was born,” I confessed, although my words seemed to elicit no immediate concern. His smile expanded, and as another lightning bolt streaked across the sky, he took on a sinister appearance, akin to a character from a horror film. I couldn’t fathom why he was engaging me in conversation. He showed no urgency to rescue me from my predicament. Wasn’t that what people were supposed to do? Or was I truly so insignificant, even to a stranger?
“What are you waiting for then, boy?” he asked. “Jump.”
I gaped at him in disbelief, brushing my wet hair from my eyes to get a clearer look at him. His expression remained utterly serious, coaxing me to take the plunge.
“I will!” I yelled back.
“Go ahead.”
“You’re going to watch?”
“Death is a familiar companion to me, and someone should notify the authorities so they can inform your loved ones.”
“Loved ones?” I questioned incredulously. “What loved ones?”
“All alone, huh?”
“I wish. I’d rather have no parent than the one I have,” I asserted.
“Mother or father?”
“The devil,” I disclosed, which elicited laughter from him.
“So, your father,” he pondered. “Does he beat you?”
“Among other things,” I whispered, sensing he heard me despite my soft voice.
“For how long?” he asked
I wasn’t sure why I was opening up to this stranger. But if these were my final moments, then what did it matter? At least someone would know my story. At least one person would bear witness to my pain.
“The beatings began—”
“I wasn’t referring to the beatings,” he interjected, making it clear he had not only heard my words but also comprehended their underlying meaning.
“12,” I divulged.
“That’s quite a long time.”
