The Color of Kindness

Ian Lawson was sworn in by the Bailiff, then the District Attorney Paul Milton questions, “Can you identify the killer of the seven bank employees that were murdered six weeks ago.”

Ian stares into his blue eyes and said, “Only by his shoes.”

“What kind of shoes was he wearing?”

“Sketchers, all-black, about size 10.”

“You remembered the brand of his shoe, the size, and the color and you don’t remember what he looks like?”

Still holding on to eye contact, Ian answers, “I own a pair of that shoes, and I didn’t get a chance to see his face.”

“Let me get this straight. You work at the bank, that man,” pointing to a Blonde-haired guy, sitting to his right, with a very serious expression. “Walked in, shot seven of your co-workers to death and you didn’t even look at his face?”

Holding on to eye contact Ian reveals, “My world is a violent one. We learned at an early age that when you hear the sound of gunfire, and it’s close by, you get flat.”

“Get flat?” the District Attorney repeats.

“We fall to the ground on our belly, depending on the seriousness of the situation and the location, we stay there until the storm has passed,” Ian elaborated.

“That man,” he points to the defendant again, “Tom Hill, murdered seven of your co-workers, and he didn’t bother to harm you. Why do you think he spared you?”

“He probably didn’t see me?” Ian said.

“His wife was fired from that bank 6 months ago?” he informs the court.

“I started working there three months ago,” Ian made known.

“Or maybe you were his accomplice!”

“Objection your honor,” Ian’s lawyer Brian Beckles protests. “Speculation, my client has no criminal history and no motive.”

“Overrule,” Justice Bent said in warning. “Stick to the evidence, Paul.”

Nodding, the District Attorney broke eye contact, pacing back and forth he continues, “A white man, entered a bank, murders seven people, all of the white workers and didn’t touch the lone black man in the bank. You don’t think that’s odd?”

“Your honor,” Brian Beckles defends, “Where is this line of questioning going?”

“I don’t know,” Ian answers quickly.

“Yea,” the judge agreed. “Where are you going with this?”

Ian continues, looking at the defendant for the first time. Something clicks, but he pulls back and turns back to the District Attorney saying, “I don’t know him, and I don’t know his motives either.”

A voice said, “You don’t remember me?”

All eyes followed the voice like a soldier following orders.

It was coming from the direction of the defendant.

The District Attorney grabs the opportunity, saying, “Didn’t I tell you that they were accomplices?”

The Judge gave him a look of annoyance, turn to the defendant, and urges, “Go on.”

He obeys the judge and said, “Three months ago, Liza, my wife, and I ran out of gas on Interstate 112, while going to her job interview. No-one stopped to help us. But you did. A black man stopping to help a white family on the road. You gave us your only spare gas bottle with five liters of gas that you keep in your trunk in case you run out of gas. You gave our daughter $10.00 to buy ice-cream and told us to keep the bottle and you will get another. You really don’t remember me?”

Ian looks at him and said, “I helped so many people, I can’t remember all of them.”

“But I am a white man. So are my wife and daughter,” he stresses.

Ian affirms, “I am sorry, but my kindness doesn’t come with a color or a race. I looked at you and I saw someone that needs help, nothing more.”

“That’s why I spared his life,” Tom Hill explains. “He is the only human with a heart in that bank.”

Tears were running from the eyes of a few of the juries and shock was written on the faces of the rest.

Never miss a reason to be kind to someone, because kindness doesn’t have color or race. Do your acts of kindness have a color?

Thank you for reading this piece. I hoped you enjoyed it. Please enojoy more of my thought provoking and uplifting stories at: https://vocal.media/authors/annelise-lords