Service Society - Cover

Service Society

Copyright© 2011 by Lazlo Zalezac

Chapter 4: The Creep

Posted: June 12, 2011 - 03:13:12 pm

The trip to the bank the previous day had completely wiped Dexter out. He had to beg off from lunch with Mark, because he was feeling extremely weak. When he arrived at the apartment, he had gone straight to bed and had taken a six hour nap. Upon waking, he realized that he should probably follow the doctor’s orders.

He was to take two short walks a day, gradually increasing the distance walked each day. Apparently going to the bank was a little more stressful on his heart than taking a short walk around the block. He was supposed to take his medicine as instructed. Unfortunately, Dexter was not in the habit of taking medicine, and had forgotten to take some of his pills. He was to eat well balanced meals. The previous night, he had been too tired to eat.

His first task of the morning was breakfast. That meant he needed to tackle the refrigerator. He had put it off out of fear of what he would find.

There was a half-quart of milk that had gone bad, a head of lettuce that had spoiled, and some lunch meat that had turned green. He threw the spoiled items away. He grabbed a tub of margarine and a bottle of syrup for his toaster waffles. Maybe it wasn’t a well balanced meal, but it was food.

His first walk of the day was to carry his trash out to the dumpster. It wasn’t that long of a walk, and he didn’t have much trash to take out there. He made the trip without much effort. The hard part was getting the bag of trash over the rim. Dexter discovered that raising his arms pulled on his stitches.

Dexter returned to his apartment, thinking it was time to get back to work. It couldn’t be too strenuous, he thought, since he would just be sitting at his desk reading and typing occasionally. He worked on a ‘returning to work’ article.

The article wasn’t about the workplace. It was about the attempt on his life, and his subsequent heart attack. He still didn’t know many of the details about his assailant. All he knew was that Brian Gaines had placed and detonated a bomb in his office before attempting to kill him in front of the courthouse. He still didn’t know why the man wanted to kill him.

Dexter gave a simple time sequence of events as he had experienced them, as well as a few comments about his reactions to what had been happening. In the article, he avoided naming the individual, although it was already public knowledge. He could just imagine getting sued, even though a film of the man attempting to shoot him had aired on national television.

It was a screwed up world when a criminal could sue the victim ... and win. Dexter knew he wasn’t going to fix the absurdities of the legal system all by himself.

Concerning the email death-threats, he described the incredulity he felt when initially reading them. His first reaction was to assume that they couldn’t be real. He began to fear for his life, when it became obvious that one man was very serious about killing him. He described how he had fled town, after having evidence that his assailant was stalking him. He didn’t say where he had gone, despite the fact that news reports had placed him in Nevada.

He made minor mention of the shooting outside the courthouse, without getting into the vast difference in his version of events and the version that had been broadcast. All he said about the episode, was that it was the most frightening thing he had ever experienced in his life.

With regards to his heart problem, he discussed how important it was to have an annual checkup. While a company might not want to give an employee time off for activities like that, the company should understand that it’s better to give an employee time off, than losing an employee to death. An hour spent at a doctor’s office could add years to that employee’s life.

Dexter wrote about being completely unaware of his high cholesterol. A simple medication, a minor change in diet, and a little exercise could have prevented his stay in the hospital. He added that he had suffered from an ulcer. Knowing that there were others out there like him, he suggested that anyone drinking the pink stuff by the bottle should visit a doctor as soon as possible.

He gave testimony as to how too many of his fellow employees at his old company had died young. He mentioned that they had left behind widows and children whose futures were significantly impacted by their deaths. Threats of unemployment had to be weighed against the loss that a family would suffer if the person died. In the long term, one could always find a new job, but resurrection from death was impossible.

Dexter concluded his article with a paragraph about how he appreciated all of the emails wishing him a speedy recovery. He mentioned that being in the hospital had made it impossible for him even to read the emails. The amount of emails would provide him with a year’s worth of reading material. He gave a rough calculation that it would take roughly one hundred days working twelve hours a day, to read and reply to all of the emails he had received, just on the day after he had been taken to the hospital.

Dexter finished his doctor ordered walk for the second time that day. This time, he attempted to go around the block. It hadn’t been as bad as he thought it would be. He still had some energy left. Walking around the block had proved interesting, as well. He had been surprised to see how many people actually slowed down their cars to stare at him. If he had been jogging, then no one would have thought twice. But to see a man walking on a sidewalk appeared odd enough to arouse curiosity.

In the entire time that Dexter had been living in the apartment, he had never seen anyone sit outside of their front door. He dragged a kitchen chair through his front door, and placed it on the building’s small porch, next to the door. Taking a seat, he watched people returning to the apartment from their various jobs.

There was a short period of time in which a lot of people returned home from work. He watched the influx with interest, wondering what kinds of jobs these people had that allowed them to come home at a reasonable time. There were a few who wore uniforms that announced their occupation.

A young man in his late twenties shuffled tiredly up the walk to Dexter’s apartment. His head was down while he was walking. When he stepped onto the porch, he was startled to see Dexter seated there watching him.

Holding out his hand, Dexter said, “Hello. It appears we are neighbors.”

The man stared at Dexter’s hand without offering his hand. After an uncomfortable pause, Dexter ended his offer of a handshake.

“I’m Dexter.”

The man frowned and looked at his apartment door as though wondering if he could make it inside without having to deal with this strange man. He hoped that he wouldn’t get harassed like this every time he left or arrived at his apartment.

“I’ve been living here a couple of months. I thought it was kind of odd that I have never met any of my neighbors,” Dexter said.

The man said, “All I want to do is get in my apartment.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you up,” Dexter said.

The man sidled to his apartment door, keeping as much distance as possible from Dexter. He awkwardly unlocked the door, while trying not to turn his back to the strange man seated on the porch. Once it was unlocked, he quickly disappeared inside. Dexter could hear the deadbolt being thrown.

Dexter had watched the young man make his escape with a frown, and a wrinkled brow. It wasn’t so much that the man acted afraid, but more like distrustful. After all, the man was younger than he, and was certainly in better physical shape.

A few minutes later, the door to the apartment opened. The man stuck his head out and said, “You’re Dexter.”

“Yes,” Dexter said.

“You’re the guy who was on television a couple of weeks ago,” the man said.

It was more like a week earlier, but Dexter wasn’t going to correct the young man. He nodded his head in agreement.

“That wasn’t one of my better days.”

“Do you mind not sitting out here like this?”

“Why?” Dexter asked.

“It isn’t a natural,” the young man answered.

The source of this story is Finestories

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