DO GOODERS

                                    DO – GOODERS

         It wasn’t an unworthy cause, all did agree as they watched with fulfilled anticipation as the things they had each contributed a hundred million to be created walked in in a single file. They had been told that only a hundred would be brought in. This project they felt would save them money in the future and the occasional insults that were directed to people of their kind.
         He looked oriental, had a big grin on his face, a balding spot slightly above his forehead and a glass of red wine in his right hand. He was happy, overjoyed actually as he- with the other richly clad men and women stood behind a glass wall watching their money’s creations lining up for them on the other side of the glass wall. To someone who didn’t know, they’d look normal which they were very far from being and he or she would probably want to make a friend out of one. They looked like men and women, some slender, some fat, some tall, some short, some beautiful, some a bit visually assultive, some black, some white; to say the least, they normal looked though they weren’t; they never could be.
         “I have finally given to charity.” The man with the glass of red wine said to the beautiful woman beside him as he raised the glass to the people on the other side of the glass wall. “I’ve given it death. A hundred mil worth of it.” He added as his grin turned into laughter making him – like many on his side of the glass wall – seem moon struck
         These creations would finally address the problem Mr. Gates and the others had; the problem of giving.

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           He was feeling happy today quite generous too; he felt weird that he did; it wasn’t like him to. The sun seemed happy too though this didn’t reflect on every face beneath it; some faces did reflect its joy but most were grumpy; seeming to have beneath their puckered surface only feelings of melancholia. Exiting the taxi- though this wasn’t his stop- he looked at the tall buildings and smiled; he was one of the few who were. He paid the driver removed his cover coat placed it on his left arm and walked, the black briefcase his wife had bought him swinging in his right hand; it looked like that of a woman. He should have been walking towards his office but he wasn’t, the generous feeling inside wouldn’t let him.
              He felt it was good he had waited for fifteen years; it hence was true- he decided- that patience did pay. He liked the way the keys inside his left pocket hit against his lap, patience really did pay. The keys were those of a brand new Mercedes and those to his huge office which were part of the promotion package. He loved it and would thank God the best way he knew how; that was why he had deviated and was headed towards the direction of abandoned housing facilities where he was sure he’d find people who needed money; he had a hundred dollars  in one dollar change and it was this amount he felt he needed to give out.
          His wife would stop nagging him now he hoped; about getting a better job that could pay the bills and leave much to spare; she probably would. She was happy when he told her about the promotion, his kids had been too. Now they could comfortably dream about having a better house without the small voice asking how.

          Leaving the main street, he walked on on a deserted one he having no idea of what gave him the courage to go there. His shoes’ hard heels hitting hard on the pavement, the grey buildings’ walls reverberating with the hollowness within them, he walked on. He felt a bit relieved when he spotted in the near distance a dirty man lounging against the wall his arms tightly folded over his chest; he was shivering. Greeted he nodded, asked his name he looked at the man in the gray suit then looked back down upon his dirty toes which were peering through the holes on his shoes. Asked the rhetorical question whether he was hungry, he nodded but said nothing.
          There was a beautiful woman on the other side of the road he noticed as he counted ten notes for the very grateful homeless man.  From whence she had come he knew not but looking at the alley some meters behind her he figured she must have come from there. Like him she looked misplaced in this environment, she had on red stilettos, a red skirt suit and a white blouse. Give her a brief case and she’d have seemed to have lost her way to a huge firm. She smiled at him as he counted on, lifting her short skirt inches high just before he turned to the man. He couldn’t think anymore, not straight anyway; no one could really use both heads at the same time. He knew he had a job to go to but that was now blurred   
         Handing the man the notes, he didn’t hear him thank him ceaselessly or see him watching him with lustful eyes as he stashed the rest of the money into his coat’s left pocket; he was too busy walking ; walking to the other side of the deserted street; toward the woman who had flashed her beautiful long legs at him. If it happened that is, if he really did have sex with this woman, it’d be the first time he’d have cheated on his wife for the twenty years they had been together. Other men his age most of them he had learnt had done it a lot. Why he hadn’t he knew not.
         “Hi” he greeted. She returned his lustful smile but didn’t really seem interested in his greetings.
         “How much have you got?” she queried. Though he did answer that he had fifty dollars, he thought there was something wrong with the way she behaved. The way she smiled, the way she licked her lips, the way she squeezed his pulsating groin; it all seemed very mechanical, not to mention her expensive clothes. She moved forward and with something like passion kissed him long and hard; he thought no more. Not about his wife, his promotion, his kids, he couldn’t think about any of that. All he could think about was the expensively clad woman pulling him into the alley by the hand naked and he humping her; moaning along every movement of penetration.
         She recalled- as they went further into the long alley- being programmed along many others in front of the people who had funded their being created. They were instructed to kill all the do-gooders which was the term the humans present called those who gave to the poor; those who made the rich who didn’t give look mean; those who felt that giving was the only way to be and to feel right with their maker; the people who condemned those who didn’t give calling them cold hearted. Those were the people they had been instructed to kill. They had been fed with information and it was from that she knew how to lead this man into the alley.
         Stopping abruptly, she pushed him to the wall and gave him another long kiss. He dropped his brief case and his cover coat. Parting, she threw open her skirt suits’ coat and started unbuttoning her blouse; slowly. Being in too big a hurry, he was naked-apart from his socks and his white striped shirt –before she even exposed the mounds on her chest; all else was on the ground to his right apart from his brief case which was to the left of his almost nude body.
         She wanted him to feel foolish when he’d die, that’s what they had been instructed to do; make the do-gooders look like the fools they really were. Lifting her skirt such that her white panties were exposed, she moved in towards him. Holding his manhood in her left hand, he moaned. With her free hand pushing her blouse aside, she exposed her breasts and that’s where his eyes, his brain and his hands rested; shaking, lusting, touching at the breasts- not thinking.
         As she side stepped to his left-pushing the brief case with her foot-to stand beside his huge penis her hand still holding it, he saw not as her right index transformed into a knife. He also saw not as it moved closer to his body; he was still working at the boobs, wishing his wife’s were just as firm. Moving swiftly at last, the dick was cut off and before he could scream; before his shaky hands could reach where the dick had formally been, it was already past his teeth and reaching into his throat, choking his intended screams. The hands confused about where to go first; whether the mouth or down to stop the bleeding, she knew he couldn’t do anything for himself. The blood she had been escaping leaped to the other wall occasionally being stopped by a hand or two- as the heart unknowingly pumped life from the body. His eyes bulging with pain and lack of air, his mouth open, the man slowly slid down to the ground where he’d die as he was.
         In a flash she was fully dressed and picking the dying man’s brief case she walked away; it looked like a woman’s she knew; it’d make her look like a very successful woman; that she also knew. Looking back at what she had done, she would have smiled had she known happiness but she knew it not and so didn’t. The man looked exactly as her creators would have liked him to; like a fool. They would be very proud of her.


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         At the alleys end, he saw a shadow exit it at the other side then spotted the man who sat dejectedly leaning on the wall. He ran towards him. Stopping a meter from where the man sat in a pool of blood, drops of it still dropping onto the ground to join the pool, he shuddered. If he hadn’t beheld more gruesome sights, maybe, just maybe, he’d have puked. He was long gone - he decided – looking at his stuffed mouth. There was no saving him. Looking at the ground at his feet, there lay the jacket, laying a top his trousers, his cover coat, tie and his shoes. He picked it up, checked its left pocket, felt the money still in there, pulled it out, and then scampered.

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         She had just given the old man she called grand pa a box stuffed with bread a flask of that hot coffee. Her parents weren’t rich but her mother said God would do unto them good if they did others. The old man was who they had chosen to do good to. They gave him three meals every day. That made them all happy especially the old man since the food at the shelter wasn’t very good. Usually after he received his food, he wouldn’t look away from it until he was through.  She had said he was greedy but her mother reprimanded her, saying he was just grateful for the food.
         Now, standing outside her house as she was, a huge doll hanging from her right hand, she stared at what was her figure of success; the woman in a red skirt suit with a black brief case hanging from her right hand. She thought she was beautiful. Her mother always warned her about talking to strangers but she didn’t – as she hopped across the street her doll dangling in her hand-think there’d be any harm in talking to this one.
         She didn’t think really-the woman I the skirt suit didn’t –she just knew that in this kind of neighborhood no one would notice a four year old crossing the street. This would be very easy. She, they’d probably think was from the social services. The kid came up to her, said her name was molly after enquiring adding that she liked the way she was dressed. She learnt also that the doll’s name was daisy.
          It wasn’t hard to get the girl to go with her; all she had to tell her was that she would buy her doll clothes like the ones she had on. The girl, after thinking how pleased her mother would be gladly agreed and followed the woman. Reaching a nearby alley, she convinced her it was a short cut and she followed on, though the passage was darker than she liked them.
         Now halfway, the lady in the red skirt turned to her and with her free hand caught her by the neck, lifted her to her eyes’ level and started strangling her. Daisy dropped to the ground as Molly’s hands tried- to no avail- free her neck from the strong hand that was squeezing it. Now, with her eyes almost popping out of their sockets, she knew why her mother always warned her about talking to strangers; she felt foolish for not listening. The person strangling the girl knew the emotion in the girl’s eyes; it was fear; though she had never felt it herself.
         Their biggest query would be Mr. Gates- the biggest do-gooder – and as Molly’s Limp body dropped onto the ground producing on impact a dull thud, she knew she’d be the one who’d be assigned this case. It was only two hours since she was released and this was her eleventh victim. This giving problem they’d surely quell; she and the hundreds of other androids all around the world would, quell it for good.       


    NOTE: THIS STORY DOES NOT REFLECT HOW THE AUTHOR FEELS ABOUT GIVING. HE ACTUALLY WOULD GIVE ALOT IF HE HAD ANY TO SPARE.