[ WP ] You have just prevented a deranged gunman from massacring a school bus full of children . Everyone thinks you 're a hero . Everyone , that is , except those few who know what the consequences of your actions will be :

I noticed her amid the crowd of proudly smiling faces because she neither cheered nor gasped as I recounted the story. Just studied me. 
 My curious thoughts snapped away as the flash of photographers and wave of reporters demanded my senses. The police chief's strong arm rebuffed the throng, but when I scanned the crowd again she was gone. 
 
 The attention drained me. The chief urged me to go home and hug my wife, but the amassing crowd and waiting smiles stabilized me. I took every picture, gift, and blessing as graciously as could be managed. After a few hours, with no hint toward cessation, the chief insisted that my efforts were sufficient. Stilling my protest with action, he informed them that he needed to attain an official report of the incident and rushed me inside. Leading me to a backdoor, as I'd already given it, he thanked me and told me his office would be in touch. 
 
 Driving, finally alone, I called Monique. We had only spoken briefly immediately following the scuffle, and she answered before the first ring had finished. Five minutes later, I was still repeating the first words I'd spoken. 
 
 `` Baby, I'm fine. It's not that serious,'' I said braking at a traffic light. 
 
 `` Well, are you sure?'' she asked with the same alarmed tone from when I had called her earlier that day. 
 
 `` Yes,'' I said in the most reassuring manner I could muster. `` I promise. I'm fine.'' 
 
 `` Okay.'' I heard her inhale, pause, and exhale. `` Okay. I'm glad.'' 
 
 `` I am, too,'' I said relieved at her relief. `` So, how was your day?'' 
 
 She laughed. We kept talking until I was walking into the house. Hugging me, I felt her contracted body loosening for the first time that day and tried to pull her closer. 
 
 `` I'm good, Monique,'' I said softly. `` Really.'' 
 
 We stood embraced. 
 
 `` Come eat,'' she said after a while. `` No,'' she said softly as I walked towards the kitchen. `` Sit.'' 
 
 I sat at the table watching her. She kept shaking her head, smiling over at me. 
 
 `` Here,'' she set down a plate and two drinks then joined me. 
 
 `` I love you,'' I said squeezing her hand. 
 
 `` I love you, too, Batman,'' she joked for the first time. 
 
 A headache was my alarm the next morning. I drifted off cradling Monique but woke alone. I went into the living room to find her sitting on the edge of the couch glued to the screen. Seeing me, she smiled and gestured towards the lady on the screen. 
 
 `` This is the fourth interview they've done,'' she said. `` I was n't that excited when I married you.'' 
 
 The lady speaking, wearing a jogging suit and baseball cap with a gray ponytail sticking out, was recreating the scene for the news cameras. She could tell a story. Not the one that happened but still. 
 
 `` I've never seen you do a backflip,'' Monique said as I sat down. She laid her head on my lap. The lady finished her tale and seemingly resisted the instinct to bow. A few people had gathered to watch her. That's when I saw her again. 
 
 `` Holy shit!'' I started. `` She was there yesterday.'' 
 
 `` Um, yeah, babe,'' Monique said. `` That's why they're interviewing her.'' 
 
 `` No, not her. The girl in the black,'' I said. `` See her? Leaning on the street light.'' 
 
 She wore the same clothes and expression as the day before. A mild look of pity wrapped in concern. This time, she had a notepad and was making notes of the answers the older lady provided. 
 
 `` Who is she?'' Monique asked. 
 
 `` I do n't know,'' I answered. I could n't really explain that she had stood out as the only person not worshipping me. `` I wonder what she's writing.'' 
 
 `` She's probably a journalist,'' Monique offered. `` Or a cop.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, probably,'' I said. The interview finished and the reporter bounced back to the studio. Monique muted it as they changed stories. 
 
 `` Oh,'' she said, `` Bill called and gave you the week off.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, he texted me,'' I said. I knew it was less altruistic and more practical. Not much would get done with everyone hounding around me. He wanted to let the hype pass. `` Not much to do with myself, now,'' I added. 
 
 `` I'm sure there's a fire somewhere,'' Monique yawned, sitting up and stretching. `` Or I might have a nightmare,'' she said kissing me and going into the bedroom. 
 
 I chilled on the couch until I heard the soft snores coming from the room. I decided to go out for breakfast. Driving past the usual places, I stopped at a diner a few exits out of town. I tucked into a booth grabbing a menu. 
 
 `` Will that be all for you today?'' the server asked bubbly. 
 
 `` And some coffee,'' I said noticing her university tee. `` You go there?'' 
 
 `` Yup,'' she answered. `` My last semester then off to grad school. I'll be right back with your coffee,'' she smiled. Bouncing back, she placed the mug on the table and began pouring. `` You hear about that guy downtown?'' 
 
 `` Uh, yeah,'' I stammered. `` I saw something about it on the news. Did n't catch too much, though.'' 
 
 `` Brave and modest. This one's on the house,'' she winked. 
 
 I sipped and watched last night's sports highlights on the only television in the restaurant. There had been a fight during a college football game and analysts were breaking down the footage for instigators. Their sober speech assumed a mortal matter. `` So they can hit each other as long as they do n't hit each other,'' I thought. 
 
 Mentally occupied, I did n't notice her until she was a few steps away. Still in all black, her concerned expression had been traded for one of deliberation. She silently slid into my booth. 
 
 Her studying gaze, at this distance, was more penetrative. She began slowly. 
 
 `` Do you recognize me?'' she asked. `` Outside of the press conference.'' 
 
 `` No,'' I answered plainly. `` I saw you on the newscast, too.'' 
 
 Her eyes remained fixed on mine. `` So you did,'' she said eyebrows raised. `` Your wife is very pretty.'' 
 
 I was slightly alarmed. I had been shocked and excited to finally meet her but had n't considered how she must have followed me here. And knew where I lived. 
 I swallowed some coffee. 
 
 `` Nah,'' she said still staring. `` I did n't have to follow you.'' 
 
 My eyes betrayed my growing bewilderment. `` Who are you?'' I asked. She licked her lips, and I heard the response intuitively.'Death.' 
 
 `` You do n't fancy yourself a hero,'' she said lightly amused. `` There's almost a hint of,'' her stare remained steady, `` regret. Ironic.'' 
 
 `` Wait, I'm sorry,'' I said shaking my head, `` Who are you?'' 
 
 For the first time I saw confusion in her brows. She cocked her head to one side and, telepathically, asked if I could hear her. 
 
 `` Maybe,'' I answered a bit flustered. `` Proof,'' I said a bit too forcefully judging by her face's flash of fire. 
 
 She paused. 
 
 `` The man you pushed into traffic: did you know him?'' she asked regaining her passionless composure. 
 
 `` I just saw a nervous guy near kids with a gun,'' I said. `` I reacted.'' 
 
 `` Yes, I've heard your spiel. But, did you know him?'' she asked again. 
 
 `` Wha... no,'' I said irritably, `` I'd never seen him before.'' 
 
 `` Yet in that second you assumed he deserved to die?'' 
 
 `` Over those kids, yeah,'' I answered. 
 
 `` So sure,'' she remarked. `` Uncertain about the functions of the stars, the nature of your consciousness, the origin of fucking existence... but so sure.'' I saw the concerned pity return briefly and be replaced with blankness. `` You've heard the phrase,'You ca n't cheat death,' have n't you?'' 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 `` Well, you tried to. Your wife was very pretty.'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 

