A Short Story by Sterling Fisher

A black man hugged himself tightly as he struggled to stay warm while standing on the sidewalk. It was a bitterly cold night and the winds picked up every so often, making it seem even colder. Unfortunately, the man was not dressed for the weather. He had on a blue baseball cap, a purple windbreaker, and a pair of tattered black sweatpants. The dingy white sneakers he wore were old and the sole had started to come off near the heel portion.

The area around where he stood was dark and barren. There were no buildings in sight. Only dusty vacant lots remained where buildings may have once stood. The nearest source of artificial light was a streetlamp, about four blocks away from where the man was standing. Even natural light was rare, as just a few stars dotted the night sky. The moon was also conspicuously absent.

The man looked intently down the street at the lone streetlamp, almost as though he was hoping for something—anything—to pass by. The hours the man had spent standing on the sidewalk had taken their toll. His eyes were squinted and he was shivering uncontrollably. His bare hands, stuffed deep into the pockets of his windbreaker, were so cold that he could barely feel them at all.

As the man stood, he thought he noticed something. It seemed as though that another light had appeared somewhere far down the street. Not only that, but the light looked as though it was moving. The man then started to realize that the light was actually a car coming slowly down the street. The car was now very close to where the man was standing. The brightness of the headlights blinded him slightly and prevented him from seeing what the car actually looked like.

When the car was only a block away, it started to slow down and came to a stop right next to where the man was standing. The bright headlights dimmed a little bit and the man could now the car clearly. It was what looked to be a black luxury sedan. The man couldn’t determine the make of the car, but it was large. He moved a little closer towards it, looking with curiosity. As he tried to look into the passenger side window, it lowered and revealed the car’s plush (and brightly lit) leather interior. In the driver’s seat sat a white male dressed in a dark colored suit. His dark brown hair was short and parted on the left side. He had on a pair of barely noticeable rimless glasses. The white male turned towards at the black man with a weary but non-threatening look upon his face.

"Hello," the white male said.

"H-H-Hi," the black man said, his teeth chattering.

"What brings a fellow like yourself out here, standing on the sidewalk, on such a cold night?"

"Well, sir, I lost my job several days ago. My girlfriend left me when she found out. A couple of days later, I was evicted from my apartment. None of my family would take me in, so I just kept walking until I had to stop. This is where I stopped. All I have left are the clothes on my back... that’s it. I have nowhere to turn. If you can provide any help, it would be greatly appreciated."

The white male put his finger and his thumb on his face and looked downward, intensely thinking about the black man’s request. He then looked quickly upward at the black man’s face and saw the sadness and hopelessness contained within.

"Sure, I can help you," the white male said after a short pause. The passenger side window went up and the sound of the doors unlocking could be heard. The white male undid his seatbelt, opened up his door, and exited the car. He left the door open as he walked around the front of the car towards the black man. "Just to make sure, you really want my help?" the white male asked the black man. "I don’t want to be mistaken in any way."

"Oh no, I do want your help. I really need it," the black man said as the white male joined him on the sidewalk.

"Okay then," the white male said as he fumbled around in his pockets. "Shit, I don’t have any pills. Will a gun be okay?"

"That’s fine," the black man said as he turned to face the white male directly. The white male unbuttoned his suitcoat and opened it. He reached inside his inside breast pocket and pulled out a shiny chrome nine-millimeter semi-automatic.

"Would you like it in the temple or in your mouth?"

"The mouth. I don’t wanna become a vegetable."

"I hear you."

"That’s a very nice gun," the black man said as the white male checked the chamber and made sure the safety was off.

"Thanks. It’s very high quality. Had to get the best, you know?"

"Yeah." The white male signaled the black man to step a little closer and he did so. He pointed the gun squarely at the black man’s mouth.

"Thank you...for this. I appreciate it," the black man said. He opened his mouth wide and the white male put the barrel of the gun inside.

"You’re welcome. I hope you would’ve done the same for me if I were in your situation." The white male paused slightly as he looked the black man in the eye. "On the count of three, okay?" The black man nodded.

The white male sighed a bit and steadied himself. He counted out loud.

"One...two...three." The white male pulled the trigger and the black man’s lifeless body fell to the ground. A pool of blood began to form around the man’s head. The white male crouched down to look at the body. The look on the black man’s face was one of peace—not quite happiness, but much better than despair.

The white male closed the black man’s eyes and stood up. He put his hand in his pants pocket and pulled out a small white handkerchief. He then meticulously wiped the residual blood off his gun and placed the gun back into his breast pocket. He stared down at the black man’s body. The white male sighed slightly.

"Yeah, I’d want the same if I were in his position," he said quietly to himself. He walked back around his car to the driver’s side. He got in and closed the door. After putting on his seatbelt, he put his car in gear and continued driving down the street.