The man who liked to save the world

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Once upon a time there was a man who liked to save the world.

Know the type?

The guy who stops for cars on the freeway to assist stranded drivers, when everybody else would just assume a tow-truck would come for them. And if an elderly lady happened to be crossing the street, he’s the guy you see stopping to ferry her by the hand gently to the other side, when everyone else would casually ignore her.

One day as he ate his lunch on a bench in a peaceful park in the heart of the city, he noticed a young couple in the distance on a grassy knoll speaking calmly. But when he paid closer attention, something seemed slightly off. Their body language was exuding a tense energy.

He turned away and continued nibbling. Then, when he was done eating and about to get up to leave, he heard the couple’s voices rising in the distance. Like an argument had flared. Not being the nosy type, he turned away, but decided to linger around a little longer just in case things got out of hand. He was, after all, the man who liked to save the world.

It didn’t take long for things to turn nasty. Their voices were no longer hushed but penetrated through the silence and tranquility of this otherwise urban oasis.  Suddenly, the man catapulted his arm and slapped the woman with brutal force, hurling her to the ground. She landed with a thud before breaking down in a gush of spine-tingling tears.

When she tried to rise up, the man pounced on her and pinned her knees to the ground. He roared a torrent of insults in her face. Bitch wasn’t even the worst thing he called her as he struck her repeatedly, each successive blow seemingly harder than the previous one.

The man who liked to save the world sprung to his feet and raced toward the couple. For good measure, as he was running, he called 911 to report what he had seen and where he had seen it.

“Leave her alone!” he bellowed from far, but a jet in the sky drowned out his voice.

When he reached them, the man was now strangling the woman to death as she gasped, desperate for oxygen.

He kicked her attacker in the ribs and pried him off her near-lifeless body as she coughed herself back to life.

Across the park, police officers were fast approaching toward them.

If I can just keep him restrained until the cops arrive, everything will be fine.

But the other man was younger and built tougher. He punched him hard in the chest with some fancy martial arts move. Then another one on the temple. Even before the pain had time to register, the man who liked to save the world blacked out.

When he came around, his first thought was maybe he was lying in a hospital bed. But there were no beeping machines or tubes attached to him. Absent was the sanitized air of a place where people go to heal. Not a single smiling face to greet him like the hero he thought he’d been.

Instead, the terrible funk of human waste and a humid suffocating heat.

This is not a hospital! I am in a jail cell. Why?

“Let me out!” he screamed desperately. No one paid much attention to him. He languished in the cell for what seemed like an eternity until a guard finally came to take him for questioning.

As he sat across from a stone-faced officer, there was not a shadow of a doubt in his mind this was a colossal misunderstanding. His name would be cleared swiftly and he’d be vindicated.

“Why am I being held?” he asked indignantly.

“You attacked a man and a woman in the park, in full view of other members of the public. Even small children.”

“What on earth are you talking about? I saved that woman from a certain death! They were having a heated argument that turned pretty ugly.”

“Not according to the police officers who also happened to be at the scene of the crime.”

“The scene of the crime? Sir, I was the one who called 911. The man with her was trying to strangle her, and he would have killed her if I hadn’t intervened.”

“That wasn’t what they said.”

“Who are they?”

“The man and woman you accosted.”

“I accosted no one, don’t you understand? They’re flat out lying. Maybe she’s trying to protect him, like all victims of abuse. A Stockholm syndrome sort of thing.”

“No. They were amateur actors rehearsing in the park for a theater audition. They said you came at them out of nowhere like a wild animal.”

“Bullshit! He was strangling her. I know the difference between acting and assault. She was dying. Check her neck. She’ll be all black and blue there.”

“Why would we do that? She accused you of attacking both of them. You’re the culprit here, buddy, not them.”

“I was only trying to do the right thing. Protecting someone in trouble.”

“Tough luck, Superman. You should have minded your own business and listened to Tina Turner.”

“Tina Turner?”

“We don’t need another hero,” the officer sang mockingly as he signed some paperwork that would send the man who liked to save the world back to his cell.

“Forget about me!” he screeched as the guards dragged him away. “You need to find that woman and protect her. Her life could be in danger—”

“And you need to learn to shut up and worry about saving your own skin. Five years minimum if the judge is feeling magnanimous. You could do up to ten years.”

“But I never even got a traffic citation! I beg you, check my records. I volunteer at the local hospital. I coach soccer. I organize fundraisers. I even donate blood!”

“Maybe yesterday you were that guy. Today you’re a perp. Under arrest for aggravated assault.”

And so, the man who liked to save the world served time for a crime he never committed.

Six years later, he walked out of prison obsessed with a single mission. To track down the woman he had tried to save and ask why she had lied. Because what he had seen that day was a woman on the verge of being murdered in broad daylight.

The local papers had covered the story and all their names had been made public. He paid a background checking website and found out her last known address. Just twelve miles on the outskirts of the city.

He took the train there then walked for half a mile.

Her mother opened the door.

He asked to see her daughter.

She broke down in tears.

“She is no longer with us,” she told him, her lips quivering.

“What happened?”

Strangled to death by her boyfriend.

“When?” he demanded.

“Six years ago, in a public park.”

“I don’t understand. This doesn’t make sense. I lost six valuable years of my life in prison because your daughter lied to protect the man who then ended up killing her anyway?”

As he spoke, the face of the woman’s mother blurred out of focus and everything around him was engulfed in darkness, like someone had switched the light off.

What is happening to me?

In the distance, police sirens were wailing closer.

Thunder crackled in the sky. For a brief while, the lightning illuminated his vision. The mother was no longer standing at the doorstep, but lying in a pool of blood. He tried to scream but nothing came out, like he’d been muted.

Then, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned around. It was the the man from the park, from six years ago. The murderer!

“Still think you’re a superhero?” he said with an icy smirk. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at the face of the man who liked to save the world.

“Time’s up,” he said racking the pistol before firing.

The man who liked to save the word woke up startled, the sound of a bullet ringing in his ears. He found himself sitting on a wooden bench in the park with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

Except he wasn’t the man who liked to save the world. That was just a terrible nightmare. In real life, he was the man who didn’t give a shit about anyone other than himself.

Know the type?

That jerk who slows down to watch an accident only so he could snap a few pictures for Instagram. Hashtag #LifeIsTooShort. The sort of fellow who never once in his life stood up for anything or anyone. Because nothing good ever came out of butting your head in someone else’s business, he had convinced himself.

What a horrific dream. He took a deep breath, grateful he hadn’t spent six years serving time for a crime he did not commit.

He continued working the sandwich. Then he glimpsed something across the park. It made his skin crawl.

A young couple in the distance on a grassy knoll. At first they appeared to be speaking calmly but when he paid closer attention, something was slightly off. Their body language exuded a tense energy.

What do you think he did next?

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Artwork by Sean Swaby.

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