Ordinary Hero

by Ellis Michaels

  “I was thinking about going for a walk, maybe stopping by a bookstore. You wanna go with me?”

  “Sure. Why not. I can tell you about the other strange thing that happened to me this morning.”

  “You mean there's more?” Kasie asked. “I thought the fight was the weird thing you wanted to tell me about.”

  “There was some weirdness in the classroom this morning, too.”

  “I thought you said that class was canceled?”

  “It was, but there's more to the story. Let's get going. I'll tell you along the way.”

  After getting ready for a few minutes, Kasie and I left our apartment to go for a walk. I told her all about the mysterious scroll that was sitting on my professor's desk. She found it a lot more believable than my story about me beating up three street thugs.

  “I guess you have had an eventful day, James,” Kasie said. “And it's not even noon yet. I wonder what else this day has in store for you.”

  “Let's hope that all the craziness is over,” I replied. “I think I've had enough excitement for one day.”

  “Did you do something different with your hair?” Kasie asked me as we walked down Mass Ave. “It looks really good today.”

  “No, I didn't. But, thank you!”

  Kasie looked me in the eyes and smiled. It wasn't the first time she'd complimented me but this time was different. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was. It wasn't what she'd said but how she'd said it. Her voice was slightly higher than usual and she maintained eye contact longer than normal.

  We stopped at her favorite bookstore in Harvard Square. It was a beautiful sunny day and the streets were filled with shoppers, tourists, college students, and street performers. We split up, each heading to different sections of the bookstore. I wasn't sure where she went off to but, if I had to guess, I'd say either the romance section or to the massive selection of self-help books they had.

  I found my way to the philosophy section. At the time, I was reading a lot of books about existentialism. I felt that my life had no purpose or direction and existentialism made me feel better because it taught me that it wasn't just me – no one's life had any purpose. I found comfort in that.

  Before long, I got bored and went to go look for Kasie. Sure enough, I found her in the self-help section. She was a sucker for all that crap. Those books make you feel like you're changing your life when, in reality, you're just sitting on the couch. I've seen her read dozens of self-help books without implementing a single word of them.

  “What do you think about the power of intention?” Kasie asked me without looking up from the book in her hands.

  “I think that intention is meaningless without action,” I replied. “All that matters is results.”

  “That's not what the author of this book says.”

  “Well, I intend on leaving the store. I can't find anything that I want. I'll be outside people watching. Just meet me out front when you're done.”

  “I'll just be a few more minutes,” Kasie said with a smile. “I think I'm going to get this book.”

  I walked outside and found an empty bench to sit on. People watching was a favorite activity of mine – Kasie's, too. And Harvard Square was my favorite place to people watch in all of Boston.

  A few minutes later, Kasie came out of the bookstore and joined me on the bench. She started talking about the book she'd just bought, but I wasn't really paying attention. There was a street performer covered in silver paint pretending to be a statue that I was watching. You know, the kind that stand perfectly still until someone comes up to them. If you give them a dollar, they hand you a fortune on a little piece of paper or something like that. Then, they go back to standing perfectly still again until the next person comes along with a dollar bill. This particular guy was good. So good that, had I not known better, I would've thought he was actually a statue.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Kasie asked.

  “Of course I am,” I replied.

  “Then what did I just say?”

  “You were talking about the book you bought. About how intention is important, blah, blah, blah.”

  Kasie gave me dirty look then, after a brief pause, asked, “Are you ready to get going?”

  “Sure. Where to?”

  “You want to grab an early lunch before I have to get to class?”

  “Where'd you have in mind?”

  “Nowhere in particular,” Kasie answered. “Let's just walk for a bit. When we see something that looks good, we'll stop.”

  We left Harvard Square and walked down Mass Ave for a while – quite a while, actually. Kasie and I got into a conversation about relationships, something we both enjoyed talking about. Well, arguing about, really.

  “I'm telling you,” Kasie said, practically yelling, “women are not attracted to jerks.”

  “Saying it louder isn't going to make me believe you any more,” I replied. “I see it all the time on campus. And I saw it all throughout high school. The assholes always get the girls while the decent guys are always single. And it seems that, the bigger the jerk, the hotter the girl.”

  “I'm not saying that jerks don't get girls,” Kasie said, lowering her volume. “I know plenty of jerks that have hot girlfriends. What I'm saying is that the girls aren't attracted to them because they're jerks.”

  “Then why are they attracted to them?”

  “Because most assholes are confident, aggressive, and act like nothing bothers them. That's what attracts women to them. It's not the fact that they're jerks. It's the qualities that jerks often have. But you can be confident and aggressive without being a jerk, too, you know. Now those are the guys that women are really attracted to. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “It does. But that doesn't make me any less angry about the fact that every asshole I know gets more girls than me.”

  “Hold on,” Kasie said, stopping on the sidewalk, looking around. “Where are we?”

  “I'm not sure. I don't think we've ever walked this far down Mass Ave before. You wanna turn around?”

  “Let's see what's down there,” Kasie suggested, pointing down a side street.

  “Okay.”

  We started walking down the side street. Several blocks down, maybe five or six, we could see a few restaurants. There were plenty of people down there but none near us, except for a guy and a girl on the other side of the street about a block up.

  As we got closer, Kasie and I could hear them arguing. Neither of us could help ourselves from looking but tried not to stare. Once we were close enough to hear what they were saying, though, it was impossible not to.

  “I said I'm sorry, Paul,” the woman said. “Please!”

  “Sorry. You're always sorry,” he replied, pushing the young woman up against a car. “You don't know what sorry is. Maybe I should make you really sorry!”

  Kasie and I were now directly across the street from them. The guy – Paul, apparently – was tall and muscular, at least twice the size of the woman. He'd pushed her into the car with one hand, sending her flying like a rag doll. Though I couldn't make out exactly what they were, I could see several tattoos on him including some on his face. Between the muscles, tattoos, shaved head, and the week's worth of facial hair on his face, he was a scary-looking dude.

  “Please don't hurt me, Paul!” the woman begged, fear in her voice.

  He didn't reply. The man wrapped his massive fingers around the girl's tiny neck and held her against the car. My heart began racing as my fight-or-flight response was kicking in. Every thought in my head, every feeling in my core was telling me to get out of there as fast as possible. Kasie, on the other hand, was thinking something different entirely.

  “We can't let him hurt her!” she said, then looked over at me. “You have to do something!”

  “Kasie, I don't want her to get hurt any more than you do. But I don't know what you expect me to do about it.” />
  “Something. Anything! James, he's gonna really hurt her. You have to do something now!” Kasie yelled and shoved me in the direction of the fighting couple.

  Her push caught me by surprise and sent me forward a few steps off the sidewalk and into the street. An intense fear overwhelmed me, resonating throughout my entire body. I took the deepest breath I could, trying to calm myself down at least a little bit. It didn't work.

  “Maybe I should just choke you to death right here,” the man said.

  The poor woman's face was bright red. I wondered who was more scared in that moment – me or her. It took every ounce of courage in my being to not turn around and run in the other direction as fast as possible. For the second time that day, I found myself praying to a god I didn't believe in.

  “Please don't let me get hurt,” I thought to myself. “Please don't let anyone get hurt. Let this go smoothly. Let it be over with quickly. Please, oh please let this end quickly and peacefully.”

  I walked across the street trying to look as unthreatening as possible. Basically, I just tried to look like my normal self: head down, terrible posture, barely any eye contact, and stuff like that. Kasie was following a few steps behind me. I guess she wanted a front-row seat to see her best friend get his ass kicked – the most likely scenario to play out.

  “Please!” the woman begged, barely able to get even that single syllable out.

  I continued across the street. My heart felt like it was practically beating out of my chest. I was now close enough to see what the tattoos on his face were. One was a tear drop, another three little dots, and the last one was a clock with no hands. Though I didn't know what they meant at the time, I later learned that they meant he'd spent a lot of time in prison.

  Even without the tattoos, the guy was intimidating. He was easily over six-feet tall, towering over the poor girl he was choking. His forearms were massive, not unlike the rest of his body. I knew that there was a good chance it'd be me getting choked up against his car as soon as I opened my mouth. Now just a few feet away, I cleared my throat and tried to use the most polite voice I could come up with.

  “Excuse me. Please let the woman go. That's no way to treat a lady.”

  With his fingers still wrapped around her throat, he turned and looked at me. I followed his eyes going up and down my body until they locked onto mine. He stared at me with a look completely devoid of human emotion. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. If that's the case, this guy had no soul. His eyes were as blank as they were menacing.

  “Why don't you mind your own damn business and keep moving,” he said, his voice deep and a little hoarse. “And believe me, kid, she's no lady.”

  To him, I probably did seem like a kid. The girl looked to be around my age but he had to be at least ten years older. His attention returned to the girl but I could tell he was watching me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Please,” I said, my voice shaky. “Just let her go and my friend and I will keep walking.”

  “Okay, hero,” he said, tightening his grip on the girl's neck even more. “You want me to let her go? Then make me let her go.”

  Her face was now beet red. She tried to say something but couldn't – he was squeezing her neck too tightly to get even a single syllable out. The urge to run was now stronger than ever – I was terrified. Kasie was right behind me and, once again, pushed me toward him.

  “Do something, James! Stop him!”

  Kasie's push propelled me forward a couple steps. Before I had the chance to do anything, I found myself up against the car with five very-powerful fingers wrapped tightly around my neck. The man let go of the girl, immediately replacing her neck with mine. She stumbled away from us, gasping for air.

  “See what happens when you stick your nose in other people's business?” he said, squeezing my neck tighter.

  “Yes,” I replied, barely able to speak.

  “I can't hear you,” he said, squeezing harder.

  “Yes,” I tried to say but it sounded more like, “Yugghh.”

  I knew that, if I didn't do something right away, I was going to get choked out. If it wasn't for Kasie, I probably would've welcomed it – anything was preferable to my current situation. But I was afraid that psycho would grab Kasie next as soon as I was unconscious.

  “Now that's just rude,” he said, looking right into my eyes as he choked me. “I give you not one but two chances to answer my question and all you can say is 'ugghh.' I'll give you one more chance.”

  I didn't even try to answer his question. In fact, I was so oxygen-deprived at the time that I couldn't remember what the question even was. What happened next surprised not only me but Kasie and the girl, too. I'm sure it also surprised the guy but he never got the chance to say so. But if the look on his face was any indication, he was just as shocked as the rest of us.

  I kneed the muscular guy right in the chest. I don't think it hurt very much but it did cause him to let go of my neck. He took a step back and I followed up with a jab to his chin. He took another step backwards and our eyes met. A devious smile grew across his face.

  “Who would've thought your skinny ass knows how to fight?” he said. “This is gonna be fun!”

  He swung a closed fist at my face but I was able to dodge out of the way. I wasn't so lucky when he followed up with a punch to the gut. His massive fist plunged into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. Normally, that would've been it. I should've been on the ground curled up in a ball at that point but I recovered quickly and attacked again.

  “Come on, James!” Kasie cheered. “You got this!”

  I charged at the hardened criminal, grabbing him by the legs. In one swift motion, I picked him up and slammed him on his back. Getting on top, I began pummeling him with punches to the face and body. Blood started dripping from his nose as he tried to defend himself. Just when I was starting to think that I might actually knock him out, he managed to throw me off him.

  We both got to our feet. He wiped some blood from his lip and then reached behind his back.

  “You know,” he said, no longer smiling, “I was just gonna kick your ass a little bit. But now... Now I'm gonna kill you.”

  The man pulled out a gun from behind his back. I was beyond terrified. I'd always had a fear of guns. I didn't even like guns in my video games. I was always more of a sword and shield kind of gamer.

  Even though I'd experienced tunnel vision before, I'd never experienced it like this. All I could see was the gun. The rest of the world disappeared – the street, Kasie, even the guy holding the gun was gone. All I could see was the gun barrel pointing at my face.

  “Paul, don't!” the girl begged. “He was only trying to help. Just let them go!”

  “Shut up!” he yelled at her. “Wait in the car.”

  The girl did what he said and got in the car. He waved the gun toward a nearby alleyway, motioning that he wanted me to walk down it.

  “Walk,” he said to me then turned to Kasie. “And you, get out of here.”

  “Please don't hurt him!” Kasie pleaded.

  “Get out of here or I'm gonna hurt both of you.”

  Kasie didn't move at first until he pointed the gun at her. She took a few steps backwards before turning around and walking away. I could see a tear forming in the corner of Kasie's eye and it killed me. Not in the literal sense like the street thug was about to do to me, but metaphorically speaking.

  We rounded the corner to the alley and started walking down it. He pressed the gun barrel against the back of my head and I swallowed hard, taking what I thought would be my last breath.

  “Any last words, chump?” he asked.

  Even if I'd tried to answer him, I don't think any words would've come out. I didn't speak but I did act. Everything that happened over the next few seconds was a total blur.

  I spun around with lightening speed and hooked my arm around his, locking out his elbow. With all my might, I
pushed the elbow up, forcing him to drop the gun. It made a cling sound as it hit the pavement. As soon as the gun was out of his hand, with his arm still locked with mine, I punched him right in the mouth with my other hand. It sent him back a few feet, giving me just enough time to bend over and pick up the gun.

  We stood in the alleyway, silently, for a moment. I think we were both surprised by what had just happened. He looked to be even angrier than before.

  “You're not gonna shoot me,” he said, confidently, and bent down slowly, taking a knife out of his boot. “You're shaking like my brother does when he hasn't had a drink for a while. I bet you've never even held a gun before.”

  “Please,” I pleaded, barely able to speak. “Just leave me alone. I don't want to shoot you but I will if I have to.”

  “You ain't got it in ya,” he said, raised the knife, and took a step toward me.

  “Please,” I said again, but it was of no use.

  3.

  With my finger wrapped around the trigger of the first gun I'd ever held in my hand, I hoped against hope that he would give up and walk away. I really didn't want to hurt anybody. I didn't even want to get involved at all to begin with. Yet, there I was, standing in the alley with some dude at gun point. If only he would've just walked away.

  But that's not what he did.

  He lunged at me with the knife, fire in his eyes. I didn't have time to think – only to react. Pointing the gun at his chest, I squeezed the trigger.

  Bang!

  The gun made a deafening sound that echoed throughout the narrow alleyway. He immediately dropped the knife and grabbed his chest as he fell to the ground. Blood began pouring out of the wound, forming a small pool underneath him.

  “James!” I heard Kasie scream from somewhere down the main road. “James, no! No!!!”

  She came running around the corner with a look of horror on her face. The second she rounded it, the look turned to confusion for a moment before changing to a look of pleasant surprise.

  “James!” Kasie yelled, her voice filled with warm enthusiasm.