A short story by J.S.Danskin

Author's note: Hi there! Not much to say about this one. Basically a "can one right outdo a lifetime of wrongs?" story. Hope you like, please review afterwards!

Jack William Melvin Parsons, aged thirty-four-and-a-half, currently unemployed and living in the not-so-good part of the otherwise pleasant city of Edinburgh, has just robbed a newsagents', armed with a knife purchased from Ikea in the kitchen section. Unfortunately for him - but fortunate for the newsagent and other witnesses - there was a policeman in the region of the crime and was able to speedily abuse the assault. But alas, due to the policeman's rather large stomach after one too many stereotypical doughnut consumptions, he was not swift enough to abolish the crime and catch the culprit in one fell swoop.

This, however unfortunate for the newsagent, witnesses and indeed the portly policeman's reputation, Jack escaped with the cash in hand, but with no handcuffs around his wrists.

"Aw, shit," the policeman drawled as Jack broke into and hurriedly sped away in one of the witness' maroon Nissan Micra. Both the witness and Jack subsequently echoed the policeman's cursing: the witness because of the loss of her automobile, but for Jack because of the gain of the same automobile, which was, as Jack saw it, crap. He began to wish he had stolen a different car to escape in. However, this, he soon realised, was impossible if he did in fact intend to escape, which he most certainly did. But fate had a trick in store for Jack William Melvin Parsons he could have very well done without, but there are some things that are just set in the stone of absolution.

Jack Parsons was not ultimately a bad man; he simply committed the odd bad deed because he felt he needed to. It was the only way he could survive in the dog-eat-dog world. Jack didn't like that phrase, simply for the reason that dogs generally don't resort to cannibalism.

But, at the moment, that was the least of his problems. He could hear sirens quite far behind him, but still there, pursuing him like a fox through the woods. Jack was not quite as innocent as the fox, and for those pursuing him, it wasn't a game they were playing, because the fat policeman and his colleagues would undoubtedly rather be at home eating pizza or indeed, doughnuts. Innocent or not, Jack would have been able to slip out of the back of the shop and never have been seen again had his rather vague plan gone according to plan. He had enough money now for an aeroplane ticket, and his bags all packed in the boot of the car for added convenience. He'd be at the airport but now, but the matter at hand had to be dealt with before worrying about whether passport control would stop him or not.

Just as Jack William Melvin Parsons was wondering how to get out of this mess without metal bands around his hands and a fat policeman patronisingly calling him "son" as if he'd just broken a window with his football, he saw out his - or the witness' - windscreen a small girl trying to run away from a man. Lack was currently driving down a quite village road after realising that if he stayed on the motorway for very much longer he would almost certainly be caught. This he did not want to happen, yet unwittingly found himself pulling up to the side of the road and emerging from the unfortunate Nissan Micra.

The man, whom Jack recognised as an old acquaintance from high school by the name of Charles - or Chaz - Campbell, looked up from the small child he was holding tightly by the forearm, using his right hand to repetitively strike her across the face. He grinned toothily at Jack and stopped hitting the girl, who looked like she was approximately six or seven years old. Jack did not smile back. He was wondering whether or not to get back in the car again. Maybe the girl was Chaz's daughter and had been disobedient, he wondered. Jack didn't agree with such discipline, it was child abuse, plain and simple. He may have been a criminal but Jack was not a thug, and was tempted to stop the abuse, but if it was Chaz's child then Jack's presence would not make any difference for the future. Just to be sure, Jack asked Chaz if the little girl was his daughter. Chaz merely laughed and shook his head.

"Nah, she's just a little slut who almost dented my car," he explained casually, and Jack regarded the car at the other side of the road, and he also regarded the child, who was sobbing silently and holding her face with her free hand, her other being held vertically by Chaz's rough fingers. Jack asked Chaz if he had nearly knocked this child down with his car.

"Aye," Chaz grunted in affirmation, "so I likes takes her tae the kerb, like, and I likes, y'know, teaches her the fuckin' green cross code!"

Jack observed that the only colour involved was pink, which was the colour of the girl's small face. Chaz laughed heartily at that remark, but Jack hadn't meant it to be a joke. Anything but. He was getting angry now because he was wasting precious time, and he should just drive away, his instincts told him. This girl was nothing to do with him, after all. She didn't really matter, but something prevented him from leaving and caused him to walk up to his old friend and promptly pinch him in the face. Chaz let go of the girl and she stumbled forward into Jack's unorganised hands, but he successfully held her upright.

Once Chaz had orientated himself, he too was angry and wanted to hurt Jack in return. Jack was clever and sensed this, so put the girl behind him and urged her to run, but she remained still, holding her hands to her sore face. Jack was so busy telling the girl to go that he did not notice Chaz come up in front of him and hit him with his fist on the side of his face. Jack staggered backwards and the girl screamed, but Jack did not fall. He merely stood up straight again and looked very serious. The two men stood in silence before Jack ran at Chaz, knocking him to the ground and banging his head against the pavement.

Jack was the only one who uprighted himself, his one-time friend unconscious on the pavement with no care in the world. Jack made sure Chaz wasn't on the road at all, and that nothing was broken. He was fine and would just have a nasty bump and a headache when he woke up. Jack, however, was worried that he had wasted too much time and he would have to hurry if he didn't want to be caught.

He nodded at the girl and asked her if she was alright to get home by herself. Right then she burst into tears, and Jack William Melvin Parsons felt his heart wrench.

"Stay with me!" she pleaded helplessly, and Jack looked around to see if there was anyone else around who could help her. He asked her what her name was.

"Natalie," she mumbled in reply, "what's yours?" Jack told her that his name was Jack. "Jack's a nice name," she said, and he smiled and thanked her.

Just as the girl was calming down and Jack was managing to get her to return home, the police squadron car turned the corner in a flurry of flashing lights and squealing sirens.

Jack panicked and fumbled with the car door before managing to yank it open and knock himself in the shins with it. He cried out and staggered backwards again, right into the arms of a policeman; but not the fat one from before. The fat policeman was standing by the car with a tough-looking policewoman, whom was both staring at Jack with a profoundly pissed-off expression. She wanted the chase to have gone on for much longer than it did; now they had to return to the station and file this and that before buggering off again to another armed robbery. Jack didn't particularly want to go to the station either, but he wasn't going to try and cut any dramatic escape attempts. He quite honestly couldn't be bothered.

Natalie began to cry again as Chaz began to come round, because Jack couldn't help her as his hands were handcuffed. The police regarded the man whom had a large bruise on his head, and the fat one moved to help him to his feet. Jack protested and Natalie screamed, but the fat policeman didn't listen, and the tall one was holding Jack by the shoulders while he searched him. He found the knife he'd robbed the shop with quickly, and confiscated it. He nodded to the fat one.

"Did this man attack you, sir?" the fat policeman grunted to Chaz, who groaned and nodded.

"Aye," he moaned, "the fuckin' bastard!"

"Why did he hit you, sir?"

Chaz shifted on his feet and looked at Jack nastily, whom very much wanted to punch him again. The rescue was turning out to be a twisted mess very quickly. Chaz shrugged and rubbed his ever-blackening eye.

"I wis tryin' tae help this wee lassie," he explained untruthfully, and as if for the first time the officers noticed Natalie. The policewoman went to her and began to speak very gently so that Jack couldn't here.

"Did the girl appear to be in distress?" the fat policeman enquired. Jack struggled slightly against the tall policeman, who pushed him into the back seat of the car. Jack tried to shout out his innocence, but no one heard him.

"Aye, this lowlife was hittin' her an' stuff, so I came up to stop it and he clocked me ane. I hit 'um back but he wis too strong for me . . ." Chaz trailed off, pretending to be upset, which he visibly wasn't. Jack was yelling now, but luckily for him Natalie was still on his side.

"The little girl here says differently," the policewoman contradicted, and Jack looked out of the open door in interest. "She says that Mr Parsons stopped you from abusing her when he was driving past. Is that correct, Mr . . . ?"

"Charles Campbell," the fat policeman said proudly, the only thing he had done correctly. "I checked his I.D."

"Congratulations," the tall policeman said sarcastically, and Jack noticed a knowing look passing between the tall man and the policewoman. He smirked to himself.

"Well . . . uh . . . likesay, she would say that, would she no'?" Chaz drawled desperately, not liking his position now the tables had turned against his favour.

"And why would she, Mr Campbell?" the tall policeman enquired from the doorframe of the car. He had a sarcastic, nasty tone that Jack generally didn't like in people; but he wasn't about to argue with the law.

"She wuz likes, confused, righ'," Chaz tried pathetically, now knowing there was no way he was going to be able to walk away. "An - an . . . fucksake man ah widnae bash a bairn!"

"He did!" Natalie cried suddenly, and Jack saw Chaz throw her a filthy look like a dagger shooting right into her eyes. "He hit meh lots o' times!"

Jack told her from the car that it was alright and it would all be sorted out. She smiled warmly at him; she didn't know he had just robbed a shop. She only knew him as the nice man in the shitty Nissan Micra who stopped a man hitting her. She didn't know he was being chased, but she would soon find out, Jack realised. What would she think of her so-called knight in shining armour then?

Six months later.

The case was taken to court, of course. Jack and Chaz had both been granted bail, Jack for armed robbery and actual bodily harm, and merely the latter for Chaz, who was amused to hear about the robbery. Jack didn't care, but was looking forward to seeing Natalie again, despite her being the reason he had been caught. It would be bad enough if Jack was sent down for armed robbery, but for assaulting both Chaz and Natalie would be terrible and unjust. Something Jack could do without.

"Mr Parsons," the patronising lady lawyer for the prosecution on the charge of armed robbery, "did you or did you not enter McCabe's Newsagents at ten- thirty on the morning of April 17th, 1994, robbing the shop of two thousand pounds in cash from the safe in the back shop, and a hundred and forty-two pounds and sixty-seven pence from the till register?"

Was it that much? Jack wondered. Oh well. He nodded and said that he had robbed the shop, but that he thought it had been sixty-eight pence. The lady lawyer's pinched face flickered with dissatisfaction before she looked to the judge and said stiffly, "No further questions, Your Honour."

A different lawyer asked him about the other accusation of assaulting Charles Campbell and Natalie Frost. When asked about it by another lady lawyer, whom seemed nicer but still very professional, he said that he had punched Chaz but had only aided the girl. He thought the lawyer looked like she believed him but understood she couldn't say so. Why not was a different matter, shouldn't lawyers be able to express their opinions, considering they're the ones who do all the research?

"Did either Mr Parsons or Mr Campbell assault you in any way, Miss Frost?" Jack's male lawyer asked in his West-end Glaswegian accent to Natalie. When she merely nodded in reply, he asked her to say so out loud.

"Yes," she saw quietly, still nodding. Jack's male lawyer nodded with her, and softened his tone significantly.

"Do you know which of the two men attacked you?" he pressed.

"Yes," said Natalie, as quietly as she could without Male Lawyer making her repeat herself. Jack felt his heart pumping faster, although he was sure he could trust the girl to tell the truth.

"Can you tell me which?" Male Lawyer asked. "Was it Mr Parsons," he paused, pointing to Jack, "or Mr Campbell?" He moved his index finger to point.

Someone in the gallery shouted out, "Did ye no' ken that it's rude tae point? Fuckin' back-stabbin' weegie bastard!"

Silence for a moment as the man and his two giggling companions were removed from the courtroom, and Male Lawyer's face turned a magnificent shade of embarrassed crimson. Jack could only feel his heart beating faster during the silence, could only hear it, could only see Natalie's mouth quivering nervously. He could smell the strong essence of blood purging around inside his flesh and could taste the saliva in his mouth he was unable to swallow for fear of vomiting.

"Mr Campbell," Natalie said quietly but clearly.

"And where did Mr Parsons come into the picture, Miss Frost?" Male Lawyer asked, changing the subject after the last statement sank in to the jury. Jack felt himself relax. It would be okay now, he was sure.

Natalie hesitated before realising again that she was Miss Frost. She was very improbably addressed like that at home, Jack realised, so excused her.

"He wis in 'is car drivin' fast," she told them. Male Lawyer, Female Lawyer #1 and Female Lawyer #2 decided not to add that it was in fact not Jack's car, but a stolen one. Jack clucked his upper palate with his tongue; he would have preferred that detail to have been omitted. But it was, as he wished, the truth, and he respected that. "An' he stopped when he saw us. I hud walked oot over the road an' nearly gotted knocked doon and Mr - um - Campbell - got out an' started hittin' 'us and yellin'. Then Jack came an' Mr Campbell looked like 'e kenned 'um an' wis friendly likes. They spoke a wee bit but Jack got dead angry an' punched 'im." She stopped for a moment to look over at Jack and smiled. "'E told meh tae go hame but ah wis too feared. Jack fought we' the other man an' got hit but didnae look too hurt, likesay. He hit the other man again but this time 'e fell. Jack needed tae go in 'is car tae get awa'." She stopped there.

"But Mr Parsons was caught standing on the pavement with you and the unconscious Mr Campbell, Miss Frost," Male Lawyer reminded her, possibly because he wanted to get this over and done with so he could get his cheese and pickle sandwich in the lawyers' office with the "Good on ye, Johns".

"Could you perhaps explain this, please?" Male Lawyer asked.

"Aye," Natalie said confidently, although she was obviously - and understandably - nervous. "I mean yes. I asked 'im tae stay wi' me 'cos I wis scared that Mr Campbell wid wake up and be angry again. Jack looked sad but he stayed anyway. Then the polis - police - came."

"Did you know that Mr Parsons had robbed a shop just before at that time, Miss Frost?"

"No."

"Thank you, Miss Frost. No further questions, Your Honour."

No further questions. Male Lawyer had plenty of further questions, but the only story that the jury had heeded was Natalie's. It matched with Jack's and they - like Female Lawyer #2 - believed him. Chaz was looking increasingly pissed off, especially when the jury returned to give their verdict three hours later.

"Does the jury find the defendant Charles Campbell guilty or not guilty?" the Judge enquired, "on the assault of Natalie Frost?"

"Guilty," the jury spokeswoman said.

"FUCK YOU YA FUCKIN' POLIS BASTARD PIGS!" screamed Chaz. The Judge sentenced him to three months imprisonment and a restraint on being anywhere near a child for the next ten years. Jack thought he'd gotten what he deserved, or near enough.

"Does the jury find the defendant Jack Parsons guilty on the assault of Natalie Frost and/or Charles Campbell, or not guilty?" the Judge asked, mincing his words a little bit. Jack thought it was good the Jude could make a mistake and remain gracious.

"Not guilty," said the jury's spokeswoman. Jack saw Natalie looking at him, so he grinned and winked at her.

"Does the jury find the defendant Jack Parsons guilty or not guilty or armed robbery?" the Judge asked. Jack's blood started pumping rapidly around his body again, yet his face was pale as snow. His heart skipped a beat, he could have sworn.

"Guilty," the jury decided, and Jack was surprisingly relieved. He slumped in his seat.

"Jack Parsons," the Judge said to him, "you have been found guilty on the charge of armed robbery. Do you acknowledge the seriousness of your actions?"

Jack said that yes he did, and that he was sorry. He hoped that they all believed him this time, because he truly meant it. The Judge nodded.

"That does not, however, justify your actions. I therefore sentence you to four months imprisonment and six months community service. Does this comprehend?" Jack said it did, and the two officers led him away, but not before he had smiled at Natalie again.

He wasn't fond of children in general, and she didn't like adults very much, but after certain things happen, people make exceptions. Jack became a better person because of Natalie and she became more aware of good and bad people, and not to judge a person solely on their crime. For Jack, his lifetime of misdeeds was over because of the effect one good deed had on him. Natalie could have been seriously hurt, but he had stopped it. They both knew that, and that created a strong friendship between adult and child.

Natalie visited Jack at least once every week he was inside, and at least three times a week afterwards. They sat on his settee and ate crisps and drank orange juice. That was the first time Jack had ever felt like he was doing something worthwhile; but fortunately not the last, either.

A/N: Thanks very much for reading! I might try and turn this into a screenplay one day, we'll see how it goes! Hope you enjoyed, I'm now offski to cry over my measly amount of reviews! IF you review I shall be exceedingly grateful, danke very muchly!

Toodles!