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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Cultural · #1928357
Short story about a businessman with an unfortunate reputation.
Written May 14, 2009





About a million people showed up to protest the ceremony, a funeral scheduled for an early afternoon on a mid-July day. Between the anger and disgust of the crowd and the dreadful heat wave in affect, a recipe for disaster was slowly boiling away.



The newspapers and city officials called Gary Barness a hero. But, to the opposing mob assembled in the streets, he was a murderous coward. In fact, a mob gathering had surrounded, and resulted in his death just six days prior.



Gary Barness was beloved amid the city's upper class residents, as well as politicians. His so-called heroics, as many dubbed, came in the form of premature gunfire, triggered purely by "fear". The trigger-happy martyr repeatedly found himself in the same situation, armed while face to face with a homeless or poverty stricken citizen.



Each of the eight encounters, Barness claimed self-defense. "My business is very close to a rotten area of the city", he would say during interviews. "And, I always carry protection with me."



With every instance, Gary Barness would claim, "I was on my way back to my car, when I was approached by a man wielding a knife" or "a gun" or "what looked to be a weapon." And the accused mugger would always ask for his wallet or car keys. And Barness would cry, "I was afraid I would never see my family again, so I drew my weapon", whenever the questions arose.



By the fourth or fifth time, Barness began to come off like a vigilante, and very cocky, due to newspaper headlines labeling him such titles as "hero" and "crime stopper".



Barness received praise and applause from police and the creme de la creme of the city. Even the Mayor was quoted as saying "Gary Barness is a Saint among men. That is the worse part of town. I get nervous whenever I pass through."



Meanwhile, the more underprivileged members of society were furious. They claimed that Barness was lying and murdering in cold blood. Many cried out that one time is unfortunate. Twice is a coincidence. But, anything more is purely deliberate.



Upon hearing of Barness's eighth, and final, "act of bravery", residents had more than they could bare. A mass of city dwellers reached their breaking point. All it took was the call of one man, who managed to interrupt a live interview between a local reporter and the "hero" himself.



The man screamed to Barness, "Watch your back Hero! ...Tonight, the city gets it's revenge!" And, off he ran. Sure enough, within the hour, the men and women of the adjoining neighborhood slums and ghettos began taking to the streets.



A barrage of citizens stormed Gary's Hardware. They destroyed everything they couldn't carry. And before long, the once successful and respected business was torched to the ground. The unruly mob was so persistent that they refused to allow firefighters to put out the flames. A swarm of police and SWAT members were required to break the crowd. But, the night was still young.



Much of the mob had reassembled shortly after, and marched on Barness's home. Gary had been watching the news while the damage was done to his store, and felt it wise to leave before an unholy cascade of violence came pounding on his door. But it was too late.



Shouting voices could be heard from three blocks away and torches illuminated the entire block. Gary's only chance to escape was out the back door, and he ran like hell!



His home was completely destroyed. The crowd ransacked the house, during their search. Anything of value was taken, the moment it was found. Gary lost every single thing he owned that night. The windows, the walls, tables, chairs, TVs...everything was either broken or stolen.



When Gary Barness could not be found, his home was also set ablaze. A glorious fire burned into the night. Attempts were made by the fire company to control the inferno, but again, their efforts were thwarted by the enraged swarm.



As the house burned, Gary Barness was four blocks away, begging for help from anyone who would listen. Sprinting through the streets at night, wearing nothing but his shorts and a tattered sleeveless shirt, the few people he found simply took him for a nutcase.



Barness finally came upon a nervous fellow, possibly homeless, standing at the edge of an alleyway. Gary pulled anxiously at the poor man's filthy overcoat, pleading into his full beard to help, frightening the poor soul half to death.



"Please!!", Barness cried. "You have to help me, please! ...money for the phone, or a place to hide! ...Please!, They're after me!"



Struggling to break Barness's deadly grip, he begged of Gary, "Get away from me, sir! I don't have any money."



"Please, you have to help!"



"I don't want to hurt you. Let me go!"



"No! You have to help. You have to!"



With that, Barness sobbingly dropped to his knees, the man still in his clutches. Gary was rapidly clawing, grabbing, and tugging at the coat and clutching the man's legs.



The over stimulated vagrant reached in his pocket and pulled out a rusty old knife blade, that he had recently fished out of a garbage can. He took the blade and charged it into Barness's neck. He thrust as hard as he could, as fast as he could.



As the Gary's body fell to the ground, a squad car came to a screeching halt. Two officers jumped out and tackled the tramp to the ground. With the blade still in hand, the filthy man exclaimed "It was self defense! He tried to take my money!"



During a short struggle to subdue the bum, one of the two officers struck him in the face with his night stick. The force of this strike drove the man's nasal bone into his brain. He was dead before the officers had a chance to call it in.



Over the next few days, people learned of the events that unfolded that evening, and were outraged, yet again. And about a million people showed up to protest the funeral ceremony of Gary Barness.



The crowd quickly got out of hand and broke through police barricades. A herd of anger stormed it's way to take the casket. There was no respectful burial given to Gary Barness.



His body was taken from its' would-be tomb and paraded through the streets, to the rubble heap where his business once stood. Protesters broke every bone and tore off every limb. The remains were cast into the nearest sewer.



So ends the life of Gary Barness.




END
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