III

"...you know, I have never told anyone this. No one. Not a living soul. Except, of course, those that already knew.

While walking by an ally one afternoon several, several years ago I witnessed a man getting mugged. I hid behind the corner of the building and watched out of the corner of my eye. I knew the guy that was just attacked and never liked him. When I thought I could get away with it I ran over to him kicked him in the stomach, then ran off.

I never regretted it. Looking back on it I always thought I did the right thing. Three days later I was mugged in the same ally, by the same attacker. As he was running off he yelled back something about my jacket. That night I went to the nearest Catholic Church and confessed to the witness and expressed regret and humiliation, but only because of what had happened to me. I felt as if karma was taking a turn.

The priest told me that there was no such thing as karma. And, that they were two completely unrelated events. He asked if he could be frank with me. He told me that with all his years as a devout follower, through all the prayers and all the sermons, the baptisms, the abstinence and all his devotion he has learned one thing. That life is too short; too short to waste worrying about what might happen. We sat in silence a few moments before he recited quotes from ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter’. Then as I was leaving he whispered back at me, something about my jacket?”

All the traffic lights were out. I sat for thirty minutes trying to turn left, eventually I got frustrated backed into the car behind me honked my horn, he flicked me off, I pulled a U'y in the middle of the road - from a dead stop - hit a telephone pole, paid it no mind, backed up, again hitting the gentleman behind me. I put the car in drive and sped off the opposite direction. I'm not sure but I think I hit a dog. Well, either a dog, or a teenage boy riding a skateboard; I was in too much of a hurry to make sure. Whichever it was it was obviously their time and we must not mourn the passing but rather celebrate the life they've lived thus far.