A good man (standard:Psychological fiction, 3812 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Dec 06 2014	Views/Reads: 2633/1820	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Turning up in the town to try and do good for the community, does he have an alternative motive?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

introduced to his friends. "Hi," he said, as he approached. The small, 
stocky man who looked to be in his early sixties looked up but said 
nothing. "Would you like any help?" The man was still quiet for a few 
more seconds, on his hands and knees, hammer in one hand, thin wooden 
panels on the grass before him. "Alright," he said, "I can't pay you 
though". "Don't worry, I don't want paying. I want to help, I've done a 
bit of D.I.Y myself". The man smiled, stood up, and they shook hands. 

Two hours later, they were both stood on the pavement, hands on hips,
admiring the new fence. "I think now it needs a coat of paint" said the 
man. Ray nodded. "OK, shall I come round tomorrow?" "No, it's alright, 
I haven't decided on the colour yet. Anyway, I think that calls for a 
drink. Fancy coming down the local? My name's Tommy by the way". "OK" 
said Ray, smiling. 

When he was there in the local pub, with light from grimy windows
filtering through, and slow plumes of smoke drifting through the air 
because no-one took notice of the smoking ban, he was introduced to 
three of Tommy's friends who were there already. After ten minutes of 
general small talk, one of them asked Ray: "What did you do before you 
came here?" "Built a fence" he said. Three of them laughed, but one of 
them didn't, Richard, who merely smiled as though he found it amusing, 
a forced expression which Ray failed to pick up on. "I was a website 
developer with my own company accountable for around 80 employees. We 
made the websites of many major companies. I've lost count of how many 
corporations have headhunted me personally to design thiers, to write 
programmes for them and set up unhackable security systems. Yet, you 
know what? as much as I loved it. I wasn't quite satisfied. I needed to 
give more back to society, so I left it. I heard about man in Montreal 
in Canada who was working in some boring office job, and one day was 
just staring at the screen, at some figures, and just decided there and 
then to leave the job and travel the world. He just quit. I thought, 
yes, but I quit so I could do more for people less well-off than me, 
and so I've ended up here. I need to do something for the community, 
help out in some way, so if any of you know what I can do. Actually I 
know what I can do now, get the drinks in. I'm buying, what's everyone 
having?" They all looked at each other, then told him. He headed to the 
bar, and the friends were silent again for a few moments. "I think 
somebody's trying too hard," said Richard. "He turns up out of nowhere, 
freely helps to build your fence, offers to buy all of us a drink who 
he's never met, and now wants to help the community voluntarily. 
There's something not quite right here. Nobody does that, and I don't 
believe a word of what he said he did as well. Headhunted by 
corporations?" He shook his head. "He wants everyone to like him, and 
is trying too hard to fit in". He saw Ray coming back over carefully 
carrying the drinks which he set down on the table. They all thanked 
him. "So did you think of what I can do to help the community?" he 
asked. 

The following day the sky threatened rain, and carried it out with a
brief morning shower, then changed its mind, deciding to stop the rain 
and just lower the temperature slightly to an unnoticeable level but 
keeping the clouds grey just incase it decided it wanted to shower 
again, which it didn't. 

"...so, yes, I lost count of how many corporations head-hunted me, but I
just decided to quit, you know, and give something back to the 
community". Eileen Waters nodded in understanding as he told her, 
leaning forwards on the desk as she subconciously clicked on the mouse 
on the computer,  concentrating on him. "That's very kind of you," she 
said, "and you don't want any payment. I'm sure you can find work easy 
enough here, if you're good with your hands, there's a golf course two 
miles up the road. They always want people to help out there. They 
might pay you, but I suppose it depends on what you do". "It doesn't 
matter," said Ray, standing up properly,"Anything they want doing I'll 
do it free. Anything". "You're looking smart," she said, sizing up Ray 
in his new black ferecci suit, which he had driven five miles for 
yesterday after he had discovered that the men he had met in the pub 
were to attend a funeral the following day for one of their friends who 
had passed away from smoking related emphysema. He never said he would 
attend, but decided to anyway, to show his commitment to the community. 
"Off to a funeral," he said, "up at the church". "Yes, that'll be old 
Laurence. Met him a few times" she said. "Did you know him?" "No," said 
Ray, "but I thought I would go and pay my respects anyway". A 
disheveled couple in their late forties carrying luggage entered the 
bed and breakfast and approached the desk. "You're a good man," said 
Eileen. "I know" he said, walking out. 

There were a few surprised faces at the side of the grave as Ray
approached, all of them silently asking themselves the question as to 
who he was. Laurence didn't really have too many friends. His life was 
fairly routine. A wife who had died 15 years earlier and two children 
who had long since vanished into the world who never kept in touch 
because of a falling out, meant Laurence was a drinking, smoking 
stalwart, set in his ways, part of the structure of the community. 
There were about eight people at his graveside, which included the men 
he had met. 

Tommy looked at Ray as if to say 'What are you doing here?'. Ray smiled
respectfully, standing beside him. "Even though I never knew him," he 
whispered, "I've come to pay my respects". The others all nodded in 
appreciation. 

Later on they were all back in the pub, toasting thier friend. The
barman had put music on the jukebox which was a favourite of 
Laurence's, early bluegrass, but it wasn't too loud, more like 
background music. 

Ray stood talking to one of Laurence's friends. "...yes, so basically,
I've lost count of how many corporations have head-hunted me, but I 
thought you know, I quit, because I wanted to put something back into 
the community". The man nodded in acknowlegement. "Really?" he said, 
"You have to be brave to do that?" Ray nodded. "Yes," he said, "I guess 
I do". 

A few minutes later he found himself chatting to another friend. "I'm
thinking of volunteering up at the golf club," he said, and the man 
smiled. "Most of us here play golf," he said, "I can introduce you and 
maybe put a good word in if you're looking for work". "I don't want 
paying," he said, "I don't need the money. I've got enough saved away. 
I just want to do something. I need to do my bit. Whatever needs doing, 
I'll do it for free". 

"I see our friend is integrating himself" said Richard, looking across
at Ray. "I could make out something about the golf club. Let me guess, 
he's always wanted to play golf" "Let's give him a chance" said Tommy, 
stood beside him. "He may be genuine", but Richard could see on Tommy's 
face, a shade of doubt. 

That afternoon, three of them all walked the two miles to the golf club,
and it wasn't long before they were in the lounge which was part bar 
and restaurant for members only. A smartly dressed man in a white suit 
came in and strode across. "Do we have a new member?" he asked, shaking 
Ray's hand. "My name's Flynn, I'm the chairman". "No, I want to 
volunteer my services for anything you may have that needs doing" 
"Volunteer?" "Yes, he helped me with my fence and as much as I offered 
he refused payment," said Tommy. "So you want to do the same for this 
club? Help out with maintenence". "Yes, or whatever you think". The man 
smiled and hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "Well the grass is 
getting a bit long for the golfing, so how about mowing all eighteen 
holes?" he said, not expecting him to take it up. "OK", said Ray. 

A few minutes later, the chairman of the golf course was stood besides a
lawn tractor around the back of the club, obviously having been used 
many times before, it looked in need of a mechanic's attention. "Now, 
you drive this at your own risk. I'm not insured for this so it's up to 
you. You don't have to if you don't want. Some of the golfers here 
volunteer for maintenance, so it's no bother if you change your mind". 
"It's fine" said Ray, and Flynn handed him the keys. 

Ten minutes later, Tommy slid a golf tee into the ground, placed a ball,
then straightened to line up his driver. They had changed clothes and 
wore ordinary, bland clothing. "There he is" said Richard, looking at 
Ray in the distance, mowing the grass around a bunker. "I still can't 
trust him". "Maybe give him the benefit of the doubt," said Tommy. "He 
might be genuine, and to me he seems alright. A good man". He struck 
the ball. 

Later that night, a tired Ray, having taken four hours and thirty-five
minutes to mow all eighteen holes on a machine that wouldn't go more 
than 10miles per hour, collapsed back onto the bed. See, he thought, 
who else would do that for nothing? for no money, no favours. A good 
man would. Yes, that'll be me. He stood up and walked across to the 
window, looking out at the quiet road, at one person walking a puppy. 
He nodded, and ran a hand through his hair. I am a good person, I know 
I am. His hand slowly closed into a fist in his hair, and he closed his 
eyes. "I am" he said, finding he had said it aloud. He turned and 
walked into the bathroom, looking at his red-faced reflection. There 
was fear in his eyes. "I'm good," he said. "I am. I am a nice, decent, 
honest person. I know I am. I know I am, because I've proven it". He 
sighed with relief, and nodded. "See, told you I was" he said at his 
reflection. He went back and sat on the edge of the bed, running his 
hands through his hair over and over again, breathing quite heavily, 
not simply because of the work he had done. He nodded to himself again, 
and smiled. "Yes," he said, a little louder. "I am a good man". 

".....so I mowed all eighteen holes for nothing" he said to Eileen, "I
mean, they gave me a free drink afterwards, which I didn't ask for, 
which was nice, but you know. I'd do it again like that". He clicked 
his fingers. "For no pay at all, for free". He was leaning on the desk 
again, Eileen looking at him, looking at the monitor, looking at him, 
monitor, him with a certain amount of affection in her eyes which he 
hadn't quite picked up on. "So, what about you?" she asked. "Is there a 
very lucky woman who you've got waiting somewhere?" "No," he said, 
"With all the work I'm doing, or have done, I just haven't found the 
time to settle down you know? Maybe though, if I find the right person, 
who knows," he said, smiling, standing up straight. "I'll see you 
later," he said, then turned and walked out. Eileen wasn't really 
concentrating on the monitor, her hand subconciously clicking the 
mouse. When her attention returned fully to the task in hand she found 
she had double-booked a room. 

Ray had decided to give his car a checking over, making sure it was
still functioning properly. It was parked around fifty metres from the 
bed and breakfast. Midway across the road was what was effectively the 
middle of the town, there was a small roundabout, and in the middle of 
that there was a small well, unused for years. The town seemed to have 
been built around it. There was nothing at the bottom, thirty metres 
down, no water, just stones and sand. 

Ray walked across to have a look. "Hi Ray," came a voice across the way,
and he saw it was a face he recognised from talking to them in the pub 
after the funeral. They didn't come over to chat though. Ray waved 
back, and the man carried on walking. Ray continued to his vehicle, and 
was soon opening up the bonnet. 

Five minutes later, he was sitting in the drivers seat, revving the
engine. He saw movement in the rear-view mirror, a car turning into the 
road. A car he did not want to see. A white Audi S5 quatro which rolled 
closer, pulling up beside him. Ray looked panic-stricken, terrifed, and 
fear surged through him. The driver of the car looked across at Ray, 
then got out and walked across. "Got you," he said. He was a bald man 
by choice, in his early fifties, always wore similar clothing of an 
ordinary nature, and even though the weather wasn't particularly cold, 
he wore a long jacket and a scarf as if it was winter, not spring. 

"Come on" he said, "Out!" Ray put his face in his hands. "I said out".
Ray slowly got out of the car and regained composure. "Look, I know 
you're upset, but remember..." "I've done nothing wrong," the man 
finished for him. "It's true. I have not committed any crime" Ray 
slowly walked onto the road, but found himself backing away from the 
man, putting up his hands as though to calm him, even though he was 
calm already. "I know you've not committed a crime, that's why the 
police won't do anything, even though I've pleaded with them to arrest 
you. I did get one police officer who was prepared to bend the rules 
though". They slowly headed towards the roundabout. "It was he who 
helped me find you". "How?" asked Ray. "Well, he had access to the road 
traffic police security speed cameras, and even though you weren't 
speeding in your haste to get away from London, he did let me know when 
they clocked your number plate, all they way up here. He had sympathy 
with me, see, knows I was coming to find you, and did nothing, kept 
quiet. Gave me all the info I needed to find you. After the last speed 
camera snapped you, you could only have been driving to one place. Now 
here you are, hiding like the coward you are". "Now, don't you be doing 
anything stupid". He backed up against the well, and saw there were 
curious bystanders watching. One of them was Eileen. "I didn't really 
know what I was going to do to you. Kill you, no. That wouldn't do my 
conscience any good, and I hope yours has been killing you". "What's 
going on here?" said Eileen, concerned, slowly approaching. "He's a 
good man". "A good man? No, he isn't" "He's been doing good for the 
community" "Has he? showing how nice he is, what a decent honest gent 
he is. I think your conscience has been getting to you" he said to Ray, 
who pointed a threatening finger at the man. "I've told you a hundred 
times. I am not a criminal. I didn't do anything wrong." he said, his 
face reddened, his voice raised. "What's he done?" asked Eileen. "Go 
on," said the man, "Tell her. Or haven't you got the guts to, because 
your just a snivelling little coward". More of a crowd had gathered. 
"Tell her what you didn't do. Tell her that my two kids arn't here any 
more because of you, because somebody couldn't be bothered to save 
them. There they were on a boating lake, the two of them rowing when 
the boat sprung a leak, and panicking as the boat sank, they ended up 
in the water, drowning. They couldn't swim". "Well why were they on a 
boat in the first place? Why weren't you with them? What sort of parent 
are you?" It was the man's turn to point an accusing finger. "Don't you 
turn this round on me. You were there on the lakeside, reading a 
newspaper on a bench. You were the only one near them, who could have 
gone into the water and saved them". "Yes, but what if something had 
happened to me? What if I had drowned? I'm not a good swimmer". By now 
at least a hundred people had gathered to watch. Things like this were 
a rare event here, and anything that deviated from normality had 
people's curiousity piqued. "See," said the man "Didn't want to get his 
hair wet. Just thinking of himself". "I could of drowned," said Ray, 
"Can't you see that?" "So it had to be my kids who arn't here anymore. 
You are just a selfish coward". "Look, I am a good man. The people of 
this town will tell you that". He looked around with hopeful eyes, and 
Eileen walked across to him. "No," she said, "You're not a good man at 
all". She pressed a hand on his chest, and pushed him into the well. 

Amongst the crowd was an off-duty constable who walked across and looked
into the well with a few others. With it being thirty metres deep, at 
about halfway it blended into darkness, and nothing could be made out 
there, not even on the brightest summer day, so Ray would stay down 
there, moaning, and starving until he became a corpse, and the people 
of the town would tell no-one. It would remain the town's secret.


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