The Pan Aspect
an excerpt

I thought about it. Giving a ride to a kid that needed it is one thing. Giving a ride to a kid where I might be killed was an entirely different thing altogether. What was she, some sort of daughter of an insidious mob boss, whose competition was after her to use as leverage? Naw, that was too complex. I mean, most answers are the simplest. Of course, in situations where the pieces are building up to a high complexity can cause even the most absurd answer to be correct. This might be one of those situations where the odd answer is the most probable.

I had only one question. "Are the people chasing you good guys or bad guys? And look at me when you answer, so I can see the truth."

Angelina turned to face me. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her nose was running and her olive complexion had turned to the color of beechbark. She looked to be about sixty-five, very frail, and defeated. She started to reach across the table to me, thought against it, and pulled her hand back, clutching the crumpled napkin. Both her hands disappeared into her lap, and she leaned forward, earnest in her reply.

"Mister Chester, you cannot do this. This is something that is beyond you, something that is..." I held up my hand to stop her protest.

"Are they good guys or bad guys, Angelina?" It's a simple question, or so I thought. "And call me Chester, not mister Chester. Calling me mister Chester makes me feel like I'm in a fifties Japanese movie, and you're my maid."

She stopped again, thinking. It could have been she was thinking up one hell of a whopper to tell me. I knew her answer would be it was the bad guys chasing her. It would have to be. Bad guys will always think that they are being chased by other bad guys, regardless of whether it's bad guys or good guys chasing them. I just wanted to see her face when she answered.

"Chester," she began, "they are not the bad guys." Well, that surprised me. "Nor are they the good guys. They are just people that believe they are correct in what they are doing."

I'm sure my surprise showed on my face. It's not often that I get caught off guard. I've seen things and done things that would make most folks go "Eh?" and not believe a single word of the story. Some of my closest friends, all two of them, know some of the stories, but nobody but me knows the rest of them. Well, there are some, but they won't be talking about it. We've all got our little secrets, don't we?