Henry checked his watch- the time was 6:08 in the evening, class was supposed to be over by now. He was almost finished with his third year in college. He aspired to be the best defense lawyer of his time- one that people would talk of for years to come.
The class slowly shifted in their seats as the lecture went on. Henry looked down at his unorganized notes. Scribbles of quotes here, a mess of lists there. His eyelids drifted half closed as if they were broken blinds. This class lecture had drawn on for 2 and a half hours now, and Henry's brain was already fried enough.
He looked over at his friend, whom was fully intent on the words spewing out the teacher's mouth as if every one was as important as a good paycheck. Henry couldn't expect any less from Matt Brady. His hands levitated over his notebook, words at the ready. Every word written down was in some way organized. Henry had no idea how the young lawyer ever managed to keep up all that energy. He got tired just looking at him.
"-And that concludes our session today. Enjoy your weekends, students. And make sure to study for your final exam! You'll be quizzed on everything taught." The teacher wrapped up. Matt immediately stood up, shoving his belongings in his briefcase.
"Good night, Henry. Have a nice weekend." Matthew said, patting Henry on the shoulder and speedwalking out the building in his Brady way.
Henry packed up all his stuff and walked out, sighing. He had way too much studying to do, but in all honesty, he didn't really need to study. Mr. Drummond was naturally a very witty and intelligent man, he didn't need to rely on knowledge as much as Matthew needed to. Instinct was on his side, and he was able to use it very well.
The rain started to pour from the world's ceiling as he went outside. He opened up his black umbrella with holes in it. Brady had given it to him one day as he came with no umbrella to class. A nice thought. How many umbrellas did that man have anyway? Every day he seemed to gave a different one.
'Useless.' He thought. 'But better than nothing, I suppose.'
Henry walked down the wet streets of New York City, managing to make it to his house only half drenched. His small house was crammed between a huge factory and a quilter's fabric store. He never got peace and quiet in his life, no matter how much he wished for the noise to stop. Occasionally he prayed to Darwin and his endless knowledge that he would get a better house.
That time never came.
He lived alone, no roommates (thank Darwin), no significant other, and no pets. At least he had a small cactus to keep him company.
As he was walking over to give the small dry succulent some water, his telephone rang. He ran over and picked it up, answering with a simple "Hello? This is Henry Drummond."
"Henry!" A panicked, familiar voice blasted through the old speaker. Drummond pulled the speaker away from his ear.
"Matt?" Henry answered. "Matt, what's wrong?"
"Don't touch her! In the name of God--" Henry heard a clatter of noise over the telephone, and he immediately was concerned. "Drummond, please get down here now! I need-"
The call dropped. Henry slowly set the phone and speaker back on its black shiny stand in horror. He quickly put his soaking coat back on, one suspender unclipped, and rushed out the door.
YOU ARE READING
Heroic Evil - A Henry Drummond Story
Historical FictionHe'd always been the odd one out of the bunch. Always singled out by the other kids, yet he held his head high. He's owned a pair of suspenders since he was only eight years old. He's been dreaming of being a lawyer his whole life, protecting the pe...
