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Fiction Short Story

by  Robert Barlow

The Perfect Victim

I wheezed from the smoke hanging inside The Brew House. It tickled my asthma while I searched for the woman. I spotted her third barstool from the end. Dirty blonde strands flowed around naked shoulders and barely touched the top of her narrow blouse. She was the key to achieving my goal.

"Hi. I'm Sammy."  I've seen the same reaction when other women take in the acne pits and little scars detailed across my face. But I know how to change a woman's opinion. "I recently came into a lot of money. How about I buy you a drink with some of it?"

"A lot of money, huh? Car accident?" I knew that I already seemed less repulsive to her when she blew her next lung full of cigarette out the other side of her mouth instead of into my face.

"Nope. Parents of a college boy paid for him beating the hell out of me."

Now I had her attention. She eagerly sipped at the Long Island Iced Tea I provided while I showed her the uneven mend of various broken bones.

"He must have been a real bad ass to beat you like that."

"Not really. He just didn't know he was messing with the perfect victim."

"I don't understand."

"Most women don't. You see I have a secret. In high school my peers only saw a skinny boy covered with acne and hair that wouldn't stay put. They never knew I had a high tolerance to pain. And I never really thought much about it, until I mouthed off to Bobby Lee. I still remember every word he said."

"Get up, dumb ass." All six and a half feet of Bobby Lee loomed over me. He'd pushed me hard. I slid several feet over the glossy gym floor. "Now wipe your sweat off my Nikes, unless you want me to squeeze your neck until your head pops like the zit bag that it is."

Here was my moment of truth. I could wipe his gym shoes or walk away. Instead, I gave him the finger and said, "I hear that homosexuals really like to wrap their hands around other guys."

Bobby Lee punched me so hard they kept me in the hospital for overnight observation. The school cops spent two days interviewing other students before they arrested Bobby for felony assault. But that wasn't the best part. My mother sued Bobby's parents, and suddenly I had a shot at going to college. Not that I ever finished college, but those were good times. And they came with lots of angry rich boys to pay my way.

For some reason, I usually found them slumming in the seedier bars. But I still had to be careful, so as not to build a reputation. I stalked rich boys in some of the surrounding towns until I was on a first name basis with most of the cops and all of the district attorneys. They either thought I was crazy or just one unlucky bastard. Whatever they thought didn't matter as long as they worked hard to secure the criminal convictions I needed for the civil trials. My mom's lawyer kept telling me that proving beyond a reasonable doubt makes it easy to demonstrate a preponderance of evidence.

But it takes a lot of patience to be a perfect victim. That's why I always did my best to guarantee the evidence and force an early settlement. I started convincing guys like me to come along as witnesses. Most were willing to do it just to see a rich bully pay the price. Then I discovered low light video.

It helped that I was a computer science major for a while. I learned enough to fine-tune the video for detailed identification in court.

Even with the video, it was a good idea to have another guy along with a cell phone. That way the cops arrived early enough to keep the beatings from going too far. Well, almost always. Sometimes it happened too fast and I'd have to wake up in the hospital to learn how it ended. I got to know the staff at the various hospitals better than the cops. So far, I've added up three major surgeries for internal ruptures, plenty of broken bones, two concussions and several feet of accumulated stitches.

I know it sounds pretty bad. Sure I've had some vision and balance problems, but it's all been worth it. Still, even a punishment glutton like me finally needed a better way to make money. That's when I went after the fraternity. Phi Alpha Beta Gamma's probation week seemed like the perfect opportunity.

I played along with the initiation until the final night. This time I had both Jimmie on a telescopic long lens and a mini cam I'd planted inside the frat. Jimmie later used a cover story about conducting research on hazing.

A bribe revealed that the grand finale involved making us roll in dog crap and splashing us with urine. I knew that if I waited too long they'd be less likely to lay hands on me or worse than that, it might mean getting kicked more than punched.

The seniors had already tapped the kegs and were drunk, sloshing Coors with every insult they hurled at us. Eventually the frat president called my name.

"Sammy. You get to be first, you scrawny puke. Roll in it, probee!"

I looked at the green tarp dotted with dog droppings. Most of it smelled pretty fresh, which didn't surprise me considering the size of the frat's mascot, Taz.

"I'd rather see you eat it."

That killed all the side talk for about five seconds. Taunts burst out again. Peer pressure at its purest.

"You gonna take that from a probee, James?"

"We should make him eat it!"

"Why don't you eat it, Tyrone? Unless you're afraid it might remind you too much of your girlfriend," I added to sweeten my plan.

From the look on Tyrone's face I knew I had two of them ready to rip into me. I really wanted at least two more if I was going to hit the jackpot this time around.

"Hey Anthony!  Bernard!  If you two are done making out with each other by that keg maybe you could help your buddies polish off these turds."

None of those rich frat boys were football players, but you wouldn't have known it from how they took me down. The four of them rushed in high and low, fists flying. Fortunately, I cracked my head pretty hard when I fell back against the end table and I blacked out before the worst of it.

I only got to see part of the two videotapes in the hospital a week later when I regained consciousness. I identified all four of them, but to me it just looked like four guys going crazy over a limp body.

Two months later I'd recovered enough to wheel into the courtroom for the criminal trial. That's where I finally got to watch all of the video and point out individual aspects to the jury. Of course, the defense attorney laid into me pretty hard about inciting the frat boys with my comments. But the district attorney countered him by pointing out that nothing I said justified getting assaulted. You know the stupidest part of all this is that if those guys had any self-control at all my plan would have failed. Anyway, once the jury saw all of my injuries in photographic detail the convictions were a done deal.

Later, when I sued them, all but James settled. I was up and moving with a walker for the civil trial and he just sneered at me in court. He really should have settled. It would've saved him a hundred grand, not including the attorney fees.

"Not bad, huh?"

"That's amazing."  The woman slurred her sympathy over her third drink on my tab.

"Let me buy you another."  I ran my hand down her back at the same time her boyfriend stepped out of the billiards room. "My problem is that I spend it way faster than I earn it."

A moment later the big man lifted me up by the front of my shirt. I clearly saw the rings decorating his fingers and the gold chains hanging around his neck. Yeah, he was the right guy.

"Wait, Charles. Don't," said his girlfriend.

Too late. Knucklebones lined up to crack my nose for the fifth time in my life.

Stupid woman. She still thought that I was after her, when it was her boyfriend I wanted all along.


About the Author
Robert Barlow's fiction specializes in humor, fantasy, science fiction, and spiritual speculation. Robert's short fiction has appeared in online magazines such as AlienSkin, The Sword Review, and Dragons, Knights and Angels. Links to and uploads of Robert's stories can be found at http://www.spoiledink.com/Robert_Barlow. When not having fun writing at night, Robert's less exciting days are spent working as a police detective investigating homicide, robbery and fraud in Oregon.