Page 70 - WTP Vol. IX #10

$300? (continued from preceding page) Apology, and Disgrace
The guilt was destroying her. The only way to erase the shame was to confess to Meredith’s parents, so she walked to the front door. Her loitering was point- less when Meredith’s parents had a Ring doorbell. If they were watching, they would call the police. She knocked on the door and waited for approximately 20 seconds. As she was about to turn around, the door opened, with Meredith’s mom answering in a blue striped shirt Meredith used to wear.
“Can I help you?” Meredith’s mom asked, a look of distrust.
“I was Meredith’s English teacher.” She paused. A lump grew in her throat that sabotaged words from coming out.
“Mrs. Fritz. I didn’t recognize you with the sun in my eyes.” A smile came to her face.
“I still have $300 from Meredith’s fund.” She extended the envelope to Meredith’s mom, who did not take it, like she should have instinctually done.
“Why now?”
Lora hadn’t anticipated the question and fumbled for a response. So much for it being easy. Meredith’s mom acted like knew it was stolen, and had been waiting to exact her revenge. But that crazy scenario was in her head, paranoia getting the best of her. “I collected it, but never got around to giving it to you. Life has been so busy. Better late than never!” She gave a forced laugh that sounded disingenuous.
“So you stole it, felt guilty, and now you’re clearing your conscience? Accurate?”
Lora was unsure of how to respond. She moved back- wards, and nearly fell down the steps. The accusatory words had an undeniable physical force to them. She felt like she was in a Twilight Zone episode, where her past sins would never leave her conscience. She was on pace to have the same fate as Telly Sevalas with Talking Tina.
“I’m sorry.” Apologizing was the last thing Lora ex- pected, yet despite the bad that would come out of it, it felt good to not take the coward’s way out. She had to embrace the deserved anger of Meredith’s mom, a penance that would hopefully lead to re- storing her graces.
Suddenly everything changed in Meredith’s mom’s expression, as if the anger was exercised from her body by the truth. “We’re not poor. We never asked
for the money, a tragedy occurs, and automatically a GoFundMe goes up. The money collected is just sit- ting in the account. Word got around that you did a fundraiser too, and we never got the money. I wasn’t going to call you out on it. Glad I didn’t, because it’s obvious that keeping the money did you more dam- age. Do what you want with it. Go shopping, get a massage, have a cigar.”
Lora sighed. “I don’t want it.”
“Neither do I. But if you insist on giving it to me, then I will expose your crime to the school community.
“Don’t steal from the needy. If you have slight humanity,
your lapse in judgement will rip you apart. If you get caught, it could cause permanent damage to your reputation. If you’re a sociopath, keep doing it, because that shit won’t bother you.”
And don’t think it’s not a crime. My doorbell sees and records everything.”
Lora grasped the envelope, and descended the stairs without saying more. She walked to the pond near the house, where ducks and geese swam free from the emotions and temptations of humanity, and tossed the envelope into the shit filled water. It killed her to do that, but it was her only option. If someone was desperate, they could jump in for it. The scary thing was that her confession was recorded, and could be released at any time to take her down. She would never be free.
In Conclusion
Don’t steal from the needy. If you have slight human- ity, your lapse in judgement will rip you apart. If
you get caught, it could cause permanent damage to your reputation. If you’re a sociopath, keep doing it, because that shit won’t bother you. Maybe you can retire from it. Just embrace the repercussions.
Andreopoulos has held many occupations throughout his life, such as Target cashier, janitor, usher, and salesman. His goal is to make 100 blood donations in his life, and he is approaching the halfway point. He writes when he can, and sadly, it is becoming less often.
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