The Check

A choice we must eventually all make

Gary Martinez entered his apartment building on W. 1st street. As he ascended the front stoop, he noticed the front door unlocked and hanging open. How convenient. The building was in bad shape and the apartment units were in constant disrepair. Gary couldn’t afford anything better than his measly $25,000 a year salary would allow. He worked as a clerk at a grocery store, and in no way was his spare time used to accelerate his salary or lifestyle.

Gary, 25 years old, was a simple person. Being on a low budget, he refrained from major purchases, and large buys. He even didn’t own a car. He kept things in his life simple and routine.

Gary walked through the entry hall, passed the elevators and entered the stairway. He traversed the flight of stairs, taking one slow step at a time. Gary had no family, or friends. No social or personal life. His ordinary activities usually included work and reading spy novels. Aside from those things, he has Lady, his Labrador Retriever. She was the perfect reason to keep the gears of life rotating.

Reaching the third floor, he turned down the hall which contained his small, one bedroom apartment. He had lived here for 5 years. The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but it was probably better than most. Its not always what you have, Gary constantly thought, but what you are able to stay away from. There is no reason in complicating or even exciting your life when simplicity is, and will always be, better. That was life, to him at least.

Reaching his apartment, he turned and noticed the door, opposite his, ajar. A woman in her mid 40s lived there. Gary had seen her several times in the hall, and each time he mean to stop and talk. Of course, each time the situation would present itself, he would continue walking. She was thin, blonde, with a curving body capable of melting the eyes of any man. She moved in a few months ago and appeared to keep to herself.

He removed his keys and started to unlock his door when a large THUD sounded from inside the woman’s apartment. He turned and slowly walked to the open door, peering one eye into the small gap between the door and the frame. Heavy shuffling sounded as a woman’s voice released a deep grunt. Large object began clicking and thrashing across the floor. More grunts and moans sounded.

Gary’s eyes immediately grew wide and he pushed the door open within a swift move and entered the apartment. He quickly walked into the living room and froze at a disturbing sight.

A man stood over the woman, pointing a gun equipped with a silencer into the right side of her head. The woman’s head was hanging down, dark blood slowly dripping down the sides of her cheeks.

Many thoughts crossed Gary’s mind. Maybe this wasn’t what it seemed. It could be acting of some sort, maybe even a game. He didn’t know anything about the woman, not her profession or even her name. But as he jumbled reasoning thoughts through his head, he reluctantly accepted what it was he was seeing.

Gary’s heart began racing and his hands started trembling. His breathing quickened as his adrenaline rose. Instantly acting, he dove forward and grabbed the man from behind, swinging him onto the ground. Gary pushed down hard on the man in an attempt to incapacitate him. The move proved futile, as the man was much stronger. He pushed Gary off of his chest within a swift move. Throwing him to the ground, the man slammed the handle of his gun hard into Gary’s head.

Flashes of light entered his periphery as a loud ringing echoed through his ears. His head immediately tore with pain, which began to radiate down the back of his neck, through his arms, eventually leaving a tingling sensation in his fingers. He attempted to rise, but weariness forced him back onto the ground. Reaching back, he felt the side of his head. Blood dripped down behind his ears and his fingertips were capped with red.

Gary rapidly blinked in an attempt to clear the blurred vision. He could hear the rapid beating of his heart in his head. Looking up, he saw the man assume his original position, gun pointing to the woman’s head.. A small thump sounded as the pistol fired. The woman’s head flew back within a red splatter. Gary, with his trembling arms and quick breathing, froze in shock.

He had never witnessed a murder before. Scattered gun shots could be heard within the back alleys behind the apartment building, but he never actually saw anything. He knew this wasn’t the best of neighborhoods, but he never anticipated himself as a witness to any killing.

Gary’s eyes stayed wide as a tingling, numbing sensation spread throughout his body. His head pain transcended into emotional anguish as he tried to comprehend what it was he just witnessed.

The man turned and stood coldly over Gary. He appeared to be in his mid 50s, thin, with graying hair and stern facial features. He wore a black t-shirt covered by a grey tweed jacket, and black leather gloves on both hands.. He portrayed a great amount of intimidation, yet his face was calm. Stern, yet almost placid. He stared down at Gary as a parent would to a toddler who just tore an important sheet of paper. His gaze was a mix of disappointment and understanding.

He slowly knelt down. Sighing deeply, he placed a calm hand on Gary’s shoulder. “Your quite lucky, my friend.” His soft, tranquil voice was strong with a Louisiana accent. His blue eyes were strikingly piercing. “It’s of great benefit to you that your strength does not exceed your compassion.”

Gary’s breathing continued at a fast pace. His body was still numb with shock. At this point, he was accepting, in his mind, the possible outcomes. He didn’t know this mans intentions, but he began preparing himself for whatever was to come.

The man looked deeply into Gary’s eyes, as if wishing to deliver his message, not only through his ears, but straight to the inner depths of his soul.

The calm voice continued. “If that were the case, if you were able to overcome me and that woman able to escape, then I’m afraid you’d be dead right now.”

Standing, the man reached down, grabbed Gary’s arm and helped him up. Pain still radiated through his head and the numbing sensation began to change into a pulsing agony throughout his body.

The man holstered his pistol and looked beyond Gary, to the front door of the apartment. His eyes then returned to Gary. “Come with me.”

The man walked across the living room and through the open front door. He portrayed a air of confidence, as if he knew Gary was of no threat to him.

Gary, reluctantly, followed. His strides were slow, his hands still shaking. Thoughts began flowing through his mind again: what are the mans intentions, is he actually going to kill me or let me go, maybe he’ll just injure me to set some sort of an example, could I escape, call for help…

Gary reached the hallway to find the man standing outside the door opposite the woman’s. Gary’s apartment door.

The man gestured with his hand to the door handle. “Open it.”

Gary looked at the man for a long moment, then slowly pulled the keys from of his pocket and unlocked the door. The man, followed slowly by Gary, stepped through the open door and into the apartment.

Gary’s apartment was small and quant. His life of simplicity showed everywhere: from the clean kitchen with all the dishes and utensils properly stored, to his living room decorated with blank, white walls and a single couch facing a small, 20 inch television.

Immediately as they entered his apartment, Lady ran towards the men, as she does to Gary every day when he comes home. Being a Labrador Retriever, she is quite friendly and energetic. Her yellow coat is smooth, with white shades under her neck, along her belly and behind her shoulder blades. Her tail, with its auburn twisted tip, danced rapidly from side to side.

The man knelt down beside the dog and began eagerly petting and rubbing its face, neck and ears. Gary gasped at him, confused at seeing the man’s lighter side, contrasting his earlier actions. He didn’t know if the man was merely being friendly to the dog as a warning, or if this was actually his softer side. Either way, it put a sickening twist into Gary’s stomach.

The man stood and walked towards the dining room. He slowly sat himself on the small table and gestured for Gary to join him.

Again, Gary momentarily stood still, with a look of confusion, as well as caution. The one disturbing thing was how the man knew this was Gary’s apartment. This knowledge proved that the man wasn’t an ordinary murderer or even robber.

No, he was a trained killer, and obviously he did his research before carrying out his savage goal. The question was, what else did he know.

Gary walked, slowly, from the entry, through the kitchen, to the dining room. After standing still for a short moment, he reluctantly sat.

The man looked through Gary’s eyes with that same deepening gaze. Then he spoke with that same calm, accented voice. “I never anticipated actually meeting you, Gary. You were a side effect I couldn’t predict. That is rare. But nevertheless, as I said before, you are one lucky individual.”

Gary’s eyes narrowed as the man spoke.
“Most people, after encountering me, don’t live long enough to breath another breath of air. There are few who have actually seen my face, and lived. You, my friend, are among those few.”

The fact that the man kept referring to Gary as his friend was also sickening. It angered him beyond any reasoning. He didn’t want to be this man’s friend. He didn’t even want to know him and life would have been more than copasetic if the man had done his job and left well before Gary could get home.

“You can relax. I have no intention of killing you. But there are a few facts you and I must face. What are your intentions after I leave your apartment?”

The man allowed the weight of his question to sink for a few agonizing seconds. They both exchanged gazes, as if communicating through some wicked form of telepathy.

“Sooner or later, there will be police officers outside your door. They will find that woman dead and will indeed have plenty to ask you. Now, I ask again, what are your intentions after I leave your apartment?”

Gary thought of the basic, most mechanical answer he could muster. He knew whatever information he provided would be futile. The man had a set plan and nothing Gary could do would dissuade the man from his original course of action. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t know anything. Nothing happened, in my eyes.”

“Well that’s a fine story but we both know that isn’t so. You are a man of compassion, as you have willingly portrayed earlier. And I have a feeling that this compassion of yours will override your ability to do the smart thing. The thing most beneficial to you and your life, as well as mine.”

The man reached out with his left hand. “Give me your wallet.”

Gary slowly removed his wallet from his back pocket and dropped it into the man’s open palm. He began shuffling through credit cards, business cards and receipts, until he found what he was looking for. He removed an expired drivers license and held it up.

“I see you are an organ donor. How very generous of you.”

Gary’s eyes stayed narrow as he looked on, still confused as to the meaning behind the man’s actions.

The man took the license, closed the wallet and handed it back to Gary. “Ok. Here’s are the facts. As I said before, I have no intention of killing you. But, at this point, that choice is yours. When I leave here, I will take this license, as insurance. And if you decide to provide the police with any information regarding what you saw this afternoon, then I will know. And I will use this insurance to find you, and kill you. It doesn’t matter where you run, you will be as dead as that woman across the hall.”

His gazed stayed calm, which disturbed Gary even more. The man had an uncanny ability to pass off murder as a sport. His ability to portray killing as such adds validity to his previous statements.

“As you might have guessed, I know plenty about you. You live a basic life. Simple. You work as a checkout clerk, making approximately $12:50 an hour. You pay your taxes. You go to the Santa Maria Catholic Church down the street. You haven’t crossed paths with the wrong people, which could possibly result in your death. Therefore, there is no interest or financial gain in terminating your life. In my world, Mr. Martinez, killing usually involves a great amount of money. And in stepping out of that realm to kill an innocent person is bad for business.”

The man reached into his jacket, pulled out a sheet of paper, and laid on the table. Gary eyed the sheet as if it contained spores of anthrax. The man calmly pushed the piece of paper across the table. Looking closer, Gary realized it was an envelope.

“I have my insurance, and now, you have yours. Take it.”

Gary slowly reached for the envelope and opened it. It contained a cashiers check for 35,000. “Insurance?”

“Yes. You see, these funds were granted to me for this particular…assignment. Through the course of the past few days, I found that I no longer needed the funds, therefore, the check was never cashed.”

The man’s next move was what completely dumbfounded Gary. The man removed the black leather glove off his left hand, and reached into his jacket for a pen. He then grabbed the check out of Gary’s hand and began filling in the assigned blanks. Gary stared on in astonishment.

Obviously the man took great care in completing these assignment with complete anonymity. He appeared to take every precaution needed in avoiding capture or even being seen. And now, not only has he been seen, but he’s willingly providing evidence against himself. He is even providing details about his planning and whether or not he used the necessary funds. Why?

The man finished writing and returned the check to Gary. Gary Martinez was written on the top line, as well as the date and a scribbled signature at the bottom. The check appeared to be cashable at Bank of America. No identifying account numbers, addresses or even names were printed on the check. Nothing but the scribbled signature at the bottom.

“Why?”

“This check provides me with a level of relaxation. And it leaves you with quite an uncanny decision to make. Your choices are as follows: when the police come knocking at your door, you can give them this check. Not only will they have my unidentifiable fingerprints on the paper, but my untraceable signature and handwriting. It is a long shot, but this check, if given to the right departments of security, can provide the authorities with plenty of means to find me. It is unlikely, I can assure you. But there is more evidence here then across the hall. If you decide to become noble, then you have the means.”

A short pause

“And your other choice is this: you can walk across the street, to the Bank of America on the corner, and cash this check. If this check is cashed, it will be processed, filed and eventually lost within the confines of the bank. It will then be completely useless to the authorities. And you will be $35,000 richer.”

Gary stared directly at the mans cold, dark eyes. He waited quietly for the catch to this paradoxical deal.

“If these funds are accessed, if this check is cashed, then I will know. And if the word comes to me that this check was indeed cashed, then I will have greater piece of mind in knowing you have done the right thing. That is what I am buying with this money, the ability to not worry about your intentions.”

Another short stretch of silence.

“I give you two days. Two days to access these funds. If those two days go by and I have received no word, then I will assume you are against me and your life will be in greater danger. I do not want the added pressure of worrying about you, Gary. And I am sure the feeling is mutual in your eyes.”

“What if the police catch onto you, in some way that has nothing to do with me.”

“The I will know. I will know your involvement. My knowledge regarding detection extends beyond what you are able to comprehend.”

More silence. The man read Gary’s expression, as if they were words on a page. He knew the questions behind those eyes, as well as the concerns. And he knew the answers.

“You see, Gary. This world rotates based off of the good from people like yourself. People who give to society as much as they take. Who live their lives within the boundaries of normality. But the world itself is far from normal, or good. There are people out there who provide resistance against your goodness. They infect this world like an oil slick slithering through the clear freshness of a pure lake. And it is my duty, and the duty of people like me to cleanse this world of those people.”

“Why tell me all this? Why give me information that helps me in putting a murdering shithead like yourself away for good? You can feed me all the bullshit you want, throw whatever reasoning’s you tell yourself. But nothing is worth a human life. You have no f*****g right to take the act of God in your hands.”

“Oh but, my friend, you are wrong. If this God of yours did not wish for people like me to exist, then why am I here? The balance of life will always exist, and there will always be people who stain the world with hatred. In many ways, my work is futile. But nevertheless, it is work that must be done. I don’t expect you to believe me, Gary. In fact, its probably better if you didn’t. All you have to do is make up your own mind on what best serves you, and society. If you feel that taking me off the streets is best for society, then you will sacrifice your life in an attempt to possibly save others. The odds are: your death, 100%. The living of those on my list, 10%. That, to me, seems like a waste of a good life.”

Gary didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Regardless of what his life was lacking, he was happy. Adding $35,000 to this life would be great. But could he live with himself is he took the money, and didn’t do everything in his power to stop this man from further killing.

The man stood. He lifted the black glove from the table and replaced it on his left hand. He took Gary’s expired license and placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket. The mans face stayed calm and he allowed a small smile to surface.

“Take the money. Live your life within all its simplicity. And let it be a long life at that. I wish you the best of luck, my friend. And I hope, for your benefit as well as mine, that we must never meet again. I’d hate to be responsible for terminating such a good and simple life.”

After letting his last statement hang for a few moments, the man turned and left the apartment.
Gary’s eyes stayed fixed on the check as a door closed in the background. His thoughts were bouncing throughout his head like balls ricocheting within a lottery machine. He hated cruelty. He hated men like that, who seemed to take what they wanted and could buy anyone they pleased. Gary couldn’t be bought. Not for cooperation, or any reason.

All of this brought about a level of complexity which Gary disliked, aside from the murder, and his own possible demise. Gary worked hard to root out complexity. It was the reason he had no friends, or even relationships. He lived as a monk would live, inside a spinning world of hatred and confusion. But what a monk had that he didn’t was wisdom. Wisdom to determine a decision at a time like this.

Gary felt a slight brush on the side of his pants. He looked down to see Lady sitting beside his chair facing the opposite way, as if standing guard. He smiled softly. She was definitely a reason to keep the gears of life turning. What he knew about her, about any dog, is that she loved him, more than she loved even herself. He knew she would die for him, go to any length to ensure his happiness. Her love was pure, unaltered and unaffected.

That was the difference between dog and human.

A loud whine sounded outside. Gary stood and walked over to the window. Police vehicles began racing down the street and congregating outside his building. An ambulance shortly followed, then a fire truck. Men began pouring out of their vehicles and quickly organizing themselves at the entryway.

As if gravitationally pulled, Gary turned his gaze 90 degrees to the street corner. Bank of America was still open at this time, with people walking in and out of its glass doors. People happy within the progress of their lives.
But he was happy. He has been happy and some man in a tweed jacket wasn’t going to change that.

Regardless of what has happened, he was going to continue to be happy, his way, within all its simplicity.

Gary stared at the bank for a moment, then looked back at the building entry. The police were already filling into the building. It wouldn’t be long before they would be at his doorstep. But he knew what to do. He knew which course to take, and which path was right. Things would be different, of that, he had no doubt. But he would be happy.

Gary looked down to Lady as she sat beside him, looking out the window. He smiled and began stroking her head. He breathed in deeply as he let this new turn take hold.