THE ALTRUIST

Genre: Horror/Mystery 

 

 

 

THE ALTRUIST

By Randy Romero

 

 

Eight years.

Eight years had passed, and he hadn’t even crossed Becky’s mind. Not since high school.

She didn’t need to think about him and didn’t want to, either. She didn’t even like to be reminded of his name.

But it was impossible to avoid when his name was plastered all over the morning newspaper.

Rodney Pierce, or Rotney, as he was colorfully referred to by Becky and her friends.

Name calling can be childish, even hurtful. But bullying, real bullying, both mental and physical, can cause irreversible damage. Damage that Becky understood all too well.

That’s what Rodney and his high school cronies were. Just a pack of bullies who got off on making people’s lives miserable.

Becky had no idea he’d been living just two towns over, in Redfield. And she certainly had no idea he had been depressed, especially enough to go as far as to take his own life.

Personal feelings aside, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for his family and friends. Even after all the hell he’d put her through.

Rodney Pierce had been her bully from the beginning of middle school to the day they both graduated Fairview High School. It started innocently enough, childish name calling, hair pulling. As the years passed, it progressed to more hurtful insults. Momma jokes. Jokes about Becky’s weight. Those cut the deepest.

He’d stuff nasty notes in her locker, fill her backpack with garbage. He never gave her a break, never missed a day.

As someone who never felt truly comfortable in her own skin as a teenager, those insults cut Becky to the bone. And Rodney and his friends were relentless thugs who were never cautious or mindful with their words.

But they took things too far when they started a rumor about Becky and her best friend. Word spread fast that her and Madison Hill were “an item”. That stigma followed them all throughout high school. People made jokes behind their backs. Whispered when they saw them together in the hallways or outside of school at the mall or the movies. It cost them friends and dates and just added to the emotional turmoil.

Rotney. Rotney with his terrible acne and his razor burn. Rotney with his stupid chain wallet with the flaming skull embroidered on the front. How edgy, how cool, she thought. If that wasn’t bad enough, Rodney’s wallet made her think about the studded Hot Topic wrist bracelet his poser friend, Jason Briggs, used to wear.

Jason, who always wore inappropriate shirts with band names like Cannibal Corpse or Bury Your Dead on them to school to grab people’s attention. Another edge lord, she thought.

But she shook her head, disappointed in herself. She shouldn’t judge them like they judged her. She should pity them, or just let the past stay in the past.

It was eight years ago, after all. Becky Vale was twenty-six-years-old now and in the best shape of her life. She was fit and brave and confident. She never let the past define her. She looked ahead, which included a job interview on that particular day.

Becky got up early enough to shower, brush her teeth, and brew a small pot of coffee. She had toast with butter and Cheerios with almond milk. Then she took an Uber across town to meet Nathan Chase.

She had expected to meet him in his office, but Nathan had insisted on something a little more informal. And so they met at a coffee shop.

 

Nathan was already waiting when she arrived. She showed up with her shoulder-length blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, black rimmed eyeglasses, white blouse, a grey skirt paired with sheer black stockings. Her skirt ended just above the knee, and she wore sensible heels. She wasn’t trying to use her looks to gain an unfair advantage or lead Chase on. But she didn’t want to show up dressed down with no makeup on, looking like she had barely slept the night before, which was usually the case. She wanted to stand out, to make a first impression.

“What can I get you?” Chase asked. “It’s on me.”

“Just a regular coffee, thanks. Cream and sugar. Two spoons of each.”

“You got it.”

Chase placed his order and ordered for Becky, before giving her his undivided attention.

“Becky Vale. I like your name. It sounds like a Batman character to me.”

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve heard that,” she laughed. “But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“It certainly is. Your name stands out on a job résumé. It has a certain je ne sais quoi to it.”

“Jan says what?”

Nathan chortled. “It’s French. It literally means ‘I don’t know what’. It’s a phrase used to capture an indescribable feeling or an unnamable quality. In other words, something you can’t quite put into words, but something you know is special.”

“Oh, please, now you’re just trying to butter me up. I thought you were supposed to be interviewing me. Shouldn’t I be kissing up to you to get this job?”

“That’s not necessary, yet,” he grinned, baring his pearl white teeth. “So tell me about yourself. Not your qualifications. Tell me about you. The real Becky Vale.”

“My name is Becky Vale, as you may already know. I’m twenty-six-years-old. I grew up here in Fairview, born and raised. Went to school here, graduated here. Left to travel and go to college, then came right back home, where I belong. I enjoy reading, writing, hiking, and I absolutely love to travel. New York will always be my home, but I want to see the world. I’ve been everywhere from Canada to California. I’ve seen the bright lights of Vegas and the bright lights of Tokyo. I’ve backpacked across Europe. I’ve even been to Switzerland. And yes, the hot cocoa is to die for. But the most important thing you need to know about me, is that I really need a job right now.” She chuckled, but she also wasn’t joking.

“Well, Becky, you’re young, intelligent, you have amazing qualifications, your references and recommendations are impeccable. But let me cut to the chase. What are you willing to do this job?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, as I stated, you’re certainly qualified for the job. But so are plenty of other women. And there are tons of women that want this job. What makes you so special? Why should I choose you over all the others? What can you do for me?”

It was then she noticed him leering at her nylon clad legs.

She left that interview feeling violated. She wouldn’t get the job, and she could live with that. But she felt sorry for the girl who did end up getting hired.

Becky was between cars at the moment. So, she got as far away from the coffee shop as she could before she called for an Uber. But something wasn’t quite right. The whole time she was waiting for her ride, something felt off.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

 

Becky had dinner that evening with Madison Klein, an old friend from high school that she kept in close contact with. Neither of them had left Fairview after they graduated. The only difference is that Klein was not Madison’s maiden name. Becky knew it was customary or common for women to be jealous of their friends. But Becky was delighted for Madison, and she was honestly happy living the single life.

“Do you remember Rodney Pierce?” Becky asked over appetizers.

“Who?” the former Madison Hill asked, an inkling of recognition in her tone.

“Rotney.”

“Oh, yeah, Rotney,” she scoffed. “It’s funny you mention him. I was just thinking about him not too long ago.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“You remember his buddy, Jason Briggs? He died of CO poisoning. My husband got the call. He was one of the responding paramedics. It was too late to save him. Found him with his car running in his garage. He recognized him right away, even after all these years. He told me about it that morning. It got me thinking about high school again and how they used to terrorize us.”

“Do they think it was suicide?”

“It certainly looks that way. He didn’t leave a note or anything though as far as I know.”

“Rodney committed suicide too. I read about it in the paper this morning.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, forgive me for saying it, but good riddance. The world is better off without them around.”

Becky didn’t exactly share those sentiments, but she understood the rage and the pain that caused Madison to feel that way. Rodney and his goons made their lives a living, miserable hell for years. Madison had every right to be angry.

“That’s two out of three,” Madison said grimly.

“Huh?” Becky said, confused.

“Rodney and Jason are gone. That just leaves Trevor Virden.”

Trevor. The third member of Rodney’s crew. Becky had almost forgotten about him. Trevor was a dick, but he wasn’t half as bad as Rodney or Jason. Still, Becky couldn’t help but wonder where he was or what had happened to him, how he had turned out after high school. Hopefully he had turned his life around and didn’t follow the same route as his friends.

Becky tried to picture him. Ripped blue jeans. Classic rock T-shirts. Always smoking a cigarette in between classes across the street from the school, where security couldn’t yell at him or get him in trouble since he technically wasn’t smoking on school property. He had this Zippo lighter with a pair of dice on the front. Snake eyes, Becky remembered.

Before their entrees arrived, Becky filled Madison in on her day.

“You wouldn’t believe the interview I had today.”

“Tell me about it.”

“This guy was a total pervert. Nathan Chase. He couldn’t take his eyes off my legs. And he was very…suggestive. Needless to say, I’m not getting the job.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for turning that creep down. Men like that need to learn that they can’t abuse their power.”

Madison offered to drive her home after dinner, but Becky didn’t want to impose. She was also still searching for a job and short in cash, so she settled for a bus instead of an Uber.

She was alone while she waited at the bus stop, but she didn’t feel alone. She felt a pang of anxiety. She glanced to the left, to the right, over her shoulders. She never saw anyone, but again, she couldn’t help but feel that someone was watching her.

 

 

A few days later.

Trevor Virden’s name was all over the morning news. He had perished in a house fire. Reports said that the cause was faulty wiring. He was the only victim in the fire, as he had lived alone, never married, didn’t have any living relatives.

She felt sorry for him, but she also couldn’t spend the day mourning for someone who used to tease and torment her. She did however find it odd that Trevor, Jason, and Rodney had all died in the span of a week or so. But she chalked it up to coincidence and bad luck in their parts. She certainly had no desire to dig into it any further.

Becky had three job interviews lined up that day. And she needed to do laundry, and go food shopping, and call her mom. She had a full plate.

By the time she got home, she was so exhausted she almost missed the package sitting on her doorstep. It was gift wrapped with shiny red wrapping paper.

She was skeptical at first, but she brought it inside, and decided to tear it open. She removed the paper, then carefully opened the box.

There were three items inside that Becky instantly recognized. A chain wallet with a skull engulfed in flames. A metal studded bracelet. And a Zippo lighter with a pair of snake eyes dice on the front that belonged to one Trevor Virden.

What was this? Some kind of sick joke? A threat? A warped gift? She had no doubt that the items were genuine. The wallet was worn and the chain was slightly rusted. The studded bracelet was also rusted and the leather on the inside was cracked. The Zippo lighter was dry and the dice logo was scratched and faded.

She felt like she was going to be sick. Her body quaked from head to toe. Chills sprinted up and down her spine.

At the bottom of the box was a letter.

 

Dear Becky,

 

I hope you are pleased with my work. Do not mourn the loss of the wicked. They had it coming to them for everything they put you through. I’ve been watching you, for longer than you’ll ever possibly know.

Who am I? Maybe one day you’ll find out. Or perhaps I’ll never reveal my identity. But just because you don’t see me, doesn’t mean I’m not there, watching, looking out for you.

Who am I? I’ll cut to the Chase. I’m your protector, your savior, your guardian angel. And you might be hearing from me again very soon. Take care, Becky. I’ll be watching.

 

Love,

Your Guardian Angel

 

Two days later, Nathan Chase was dead. Fell down two flights of stairs at his office and broke his neck. Tragic and heartbreaking, yet nobody would suspect a thing. Just as her guardian angel wanted it to be.

She thought about showing the note to the police. But considered the ramifications. Would she be culpable? This person, this altruist, this guardian angel had acted on her behalf. Was she an accessory to murder? Would the police make her the primary suspect, try to pin evidence on her and put her away for life? Should she burn the letter and destroy the items?

She couldn’t tell the police. Not yet. And she couldn’t tell her family or friends. She thought about telling Madison over dinner that night, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She let Madison do most of the talking that evening, about her husband, about not wanting kids, about where she gets her hair and nails done, and what latest clothes were in fashion. And shoes. Madison loved shoes.

But Becky was in her own world, as Madison droned on.

“Sorry, Madison, I’m just not myself tonight. I feel awful. I’m not very good company.”

“Nonsense. Anybody who can listen to my stories is a hero.”

The word “hero” made her shiver.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said, as vague as possible.

They ate quietly, and Madison picked up the check. Worried about her friend, Madison insisted on driving Becky home after dinner. “You’re not getting an Uber or waiting at the bus stop tonight. I’m driving you.” It wasn’t a request, either.

Becky’s place wasn’t far from the restaurant. But the ride home was quiet, with Becky deep in thought. Madison pulled up in front of Becky’s and broke the silence.

“Hey, do you remember that rumor that Rotney and his buddies started about us?”

“You mean the one about us being muff divers? How could I forget?”

“They were such assholes.”

“Yeah,” Becky said, forcing a laugh.

“But they weren’t that far off from the truth,” Madison said.

“Wait…what?”

“Oh, nothing. I really should be getting home. Take care, Becky. And stay safe. I’ll be watching,” she said with a wink.