A man sits at an airport, waiting. It’s 9:30 PM and he has a plan to right the wrongs that were done to his son. Are his methods justified? Or is he just another misguided vigilante? Zack’s story leads us into an intriguing conversation on when is it OK to take the law into your own hands?
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Welcome to Smirk. A podcast that covers society and culture through a storytelling lens. Part creative writing, part discussion, and always interesting. Each week our hosts brings a story to the show, a story they wrote themselves, which is immediately followed by discussion on the author’s moral or theme.
These stories can cover any topic the host wants to discuss, it can be lighthearted or more serious. No one but the author knows if these tales are truth or fiction, and part of the fun is guessing while you’re listening before the reality is made clear.
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Want to read Zack’s story “9:30 PM” in full? Think you can identify the moral or theme for this episode? Read it below, and then take a listen to the podcast.
9:30 PM
The airport is barely busy, almost still. It’s as if the building itself knows how heavy the air is. I didn’t come to my decision lightly, but it’s the only one I could ever make. There’s no denying, however, that the gun weighs heavy strapped to my boot.
I know he’s coming soon. The gentleman who works at the news station told me that this was the evening. He might get in trouble for that, I don’t know, but at least I kept him oblivious to who I was and what I plan to do. That Evil Man arriving today won’t even recognize me. I used the most generic of disguises. Wearing a ball cap pulled down, and sunglasses clearly too big. They say if you really want to hide, do so in plain sight. No one has even taken notice of me. They will once they hear the gunshot.
The time is approaching, so I make for the payphone bank. I dial my best friend, not to let him know what’s about to go down, but simply to make my blending in easier. Even the conversation can’t distract me, and I notice as The Evil Man turns the corner. I can see it in his eyes. All the hurt he caused my son for over a year. The way he took advantage of our family. I see my son’s crying face when the police finally returned him to me. Once The Evil Man takes a single step past me with his police escort, I don’t hesitate as I pull the gun from my ankle holster.
A sound of thunder rolls across the airport terminal as I pull the trigger against his temple. His body goes limp, and plops to the ground. A husk of The Evil Man so vile I would knowingly commit homicide.
I put up no resistance to the police as they ask “Why?!”
They may not understand right now. But if it was their child, what would they have done?
Learn more about this story at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gary_Plauche