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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2039813-The-Overly-Good-Samaritan
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by brom21 Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Other · Other · #2039813
A story of a man too concerned with life.
Jarod walked down the sidewalk saw a man cough three times. Jarod rushed to his side and put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Sir are you okay? Do you feel sick? Do you want me to take you to the doctor?” Jarod said.

The man frowned and shook his head.

“No sir, I just coughed. I’m fine,” spoke the annoyed man.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Now please, leave me alone!”

Jarod continued walking after the gentleman stormed off. Jarod strolled, alert to any unfortunate occurrence. Then he saw a child crying with his hand being held by his mother. The kind observer ran to address the mother.

“Mam, I’m so sorry. It must tear you apart to see your son cry like that,” said Jarod.

“Oh, don’t mind him, he’s just grumpy,” answered the woman.

“Hold on! I know just want to do! Some ice-cream will do the job! ” exclaimed Jarod.

An amazed look came over the woman. But the nearest Ice-cream shop is two-and-a-half blocks away.”

“It’s an emergency mam, I’ll be back as fast as I can!” said Jarod as he burst into the direction of the shop. He bumped into people announcing the emergency.

“Out of the way! Emeregncy!” he cried.

When he made it to the ice-cream shop, he spoke to the employee out of breath.

“I need three scoops of chocolate ice-cream now!”

The employee was wide eyed and put up his palms.

“Whoa there, chill man. I’ll get it for you soon enough.”

The man behind the counter scooped the ice-cream and Jarod paid for it and ran out the door with the cold treat.

Like before he ran as fast as he could and finally met the child and his mother.

“Here, I have it,” he said as he gave the ice-cream to the boy who was instantly satiated.

“Thank you sir, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m just glad I was here to help,” said Jarod with a sigh.

After turning right at a city block he made it to his destination, his psychiatrist’s office building. He saw a woman with two children in each arm at the glass exit door.

As usual he raced to open the door for the lady.

“Oh, thanks, you’re a big help,” she said with a smile.

As Jarod entered, he was greeted by the desk clerk.

“Hello Jarod,” she said robotically.

Jarod noticed her tone and took it as sadness. “Are you okay Sally? You sound unhappy,” he inquired.

Sally laughed and smiled at his thoughtfulness. “You’ve always been so kind, even to the extreme some would say, but I don’t mind it. I’m fine,” she said.

“Oh, okay…if you say so.”

He walked over to the waiting room and sat down on the cushiest seat then picked up a newspaper from a table to his right. He began to read a report on an earthquake that killed thousand in Nepal. He began to cry.

A man next to him noticed his crying.

“Sir, what bothers you?” the stranger asked.

Jarod sniffled before answering. “So many innocent lives killed.”

“What!” said the man as he looked over Jarod’s shoulder and saw the report. He pitied him. “Things like this happen all the time. It’s the way the world is. I don’t know what planet you come from.”

Before Jarod could answer, his name was called.

“Jarod,” said psychiatrist Don Fleming.

“Hello doctor. Are you doing alright?”

“That is the question I should be asking you,” Dr. Fleming said as he led him into the office.

“Let’s get straight to the point. Jarod, you’re a very kind, sensitive person but you need to practice moderation. There is such a thing as being too sensitive. Someone could take advantage of you or you could stick your nose where it shouldn’t be.

Jarod was baffled. “I don’t understand. I care like anybody else would care,” he replied to the Doctor.

“No, you don’t.”

“You have to learn to acknowledge the evil in the world and try not to make everything perfect. That is impossible.”

“But I can do so much,” answered Jarod.

“You try too hard and live in a sheltered viewpoint. Learn to live with life’s imperfections. Don’t get me wrong. Some of what you do is quite good,” the Doctor offered.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Jarod.

“The next time you feel you must do something for another, I want you to ask yourself these five questions,” Dr. Fleming said after scribbling on a note pad and giving it to Jarod.

He looked down at the written questions and started reading them aloud. “Will the person be alright of I don’t help?”

The Doctor interrupted him. “Don’t read them now, wait until a situation arrives. I’ll see you in a week.”

“See you then,” Jarod said dejectedly.

He went out of the building sad and rejected.

“I just try to help, that’s all.”

Suddenly something caught his eye. A small ball went rolling into the street and stopped in front of a large bus going at full speed. Then a little boy ran after it in the street causing the driver to hit the brakes. The vehicle slid along the cement and was about to run over the child.

“Oh, no!” Jarod yelled. He did not think twice but sprinted to the child holding the ball. Just as the bus was several yards away, Jarod pushed him out of the way onto the sidewalk. Unfortunately there was not time enough for both the child and Jarod to make it to safety. The bus stopped with Jarod was sprawled lifeless and bloody about twenty feet from it.

“It’s that paranoid guy,” said a mid-aged man.

“That poor man,” said the mother who had the crying child. “He’s at peace now.”

After Dr. Fleming heard of Jarod’s death he cried. Then the spoke what would sum up the situation. “At least he died doing what he loved to do; help people.”

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