It really made him angry.

 

Lots of things made him feel upset, but this, oh this was the proverbial final straw.  He stood stark still, rain landing all about him.  Landing on him, sinking through his cloths and cooling his skin.  He really disliked the rain.  Loathed it with some sense of passion, but he was oblivious to it at the moment.  All he could do was stare at what lightening had done to his BMW.  He had just parked it there.  He made sure not to park it too near any other of these parasites that pass themselves off as humans.  Too many dings in his old Lexus had to taught him the value of distance.  Besides it hadn’t been raining when he went into the store but had started sometime between picking out wine and razorblades.

Now, standing in the rain, holding two water filled plastic grocery bags, all he could do was gap at the burning mess that was his automobile.  The lightening had struck near the rear of the vehicle.  He had seen it as he was leaving the dry comfort by way of two automatic doors.  He saw the brilliant flash of white and then moments later the terrible thundering explosion of his car, which was almost inaudible from the crack of thunder.

 

He went home and related this story to his wife.  Who at first was sympathetic, then thankful (and secretly resentful, for his death would have made her very rich), and finally comical.  It was funny after all.  Only he didn’t think so, and he so began to loath her for it as well.

 

Everywhere he went, now driving an American made rental (how degrading!), he found this same strange sense of idiocy boiling off the tips of humans.  Were they so blind as to not see the grand beauty, the hard work, the sheer magnitude of the accomplishment?  He hated them all for their uncaring, unappreciative hearts!  Who cares if they were glad that he had not died!  And what of these fools saying things like, “You’re lucky you know?  Besides, it’s only a car.”   What do they know about ownership and pride!  This lack of respect was grating.  He hated them.  All of them and he knew that someone was going to have to pay!  But who?  Could he sue the grocery for not having lightening rods around the parking lot?  Sure, but for some reason a sense of consumer loyalty was keeping him from destroying the same store in which he had bought his first playboy as a young man.  What about the car company?  Wasn’t it just as much their fault for not…not, armor plating or something, anything to avoid having their vehicle be destroyed by lightening?  Sure it was, but he couldn’t find the legal means to accomplish it…still, there had to be someone responsible, some single entity that could pay for this dubious crime of destruction! 

 

He was a lawyer and a good one.  Always had been good at negotiating through troubled waters.  So it wasn’t much of a surprise to him when he finally came up with someone to sue.  Someone that had deep pockets.  Someone that could pay and pay and pay.

 

On the third of October he went into his office and had the papers drawn up.  He signed them and delivered them to all the tentacles of legal octopi that it required.  The calls came, of course, he knew they would.  There was laughter and silliness from most of his colleagues, but that was okay.  He was on a righteous path now, he knew he was right.  Time and truth were on his side and it was only a matter of time.  Only a matter of time.

 

Then a judge called.  A judge that had been given the task of sorting out this paper work.

“James?”  Says the judge.

“Hello Norman,” our anti-hero says back.

“What the hell is this, some kind of a joke?” Judge Norman said, and James could hear the disgust in his voice.  It was okay, he thought, time is on my side.

“No it’s no joke.  I’m suing for damages.”

“But…”

“No buts about it!  Someone has to pay, Norman!  And it’s got to be someone that is responsible!  Someone that really understands! Someone that made all this happen!”

“But, God!? Even if you get this thing into court…and we don’t laugh you out of town!  Even if you win, by some strange and crazy twist of fate!  How in the name of all that is holy are you going to collect?”

“Christ, Norman, you know that most civil penalties are never collected.  People never pay, it’s in their distorted nature.  I’m not asking for payment.  Just responsibility.”

“I’m sorry James, but I’m not going to file this case, and I think you should seek help.”

“Well, you’re a fool!  Our system is…is…” but he couldn’t go on.  He just hung up the phone and turned quietly to the light switch, flicked it off, and sat still, quiet, like a statue in some forgotten park, fogged over in the haze of darkness.  Lost.