A Deadly One Night Stand (Predicament of a Father)

“Hi I’m Steve, and I’m here to kill your son.” These were the cold and emotionless words that were uttered casually by the strange visitor who came to my door and entered my home in the dead of night. It was around two hours past midnight when my best friend called. “This is important and urgent,” he said. “Someone is looking for your son!” The urgency was in his voice, but I had no idea how important it was. After a couple of minutes, my best friend arrived and introduced me to the strange man. Then, he left us alone. He said he had to do something important, definitely more important than leaving me with a man who wanted to kill my son. I must have somehow offended my friend severely, I thought. Why else would he bring this man, leave, and put me in such a problematic situation?

The visitor, who had entered my house at this point, was strangely relaxed. I decided to also show no emotion, not even a tinge of surprise nor anger. I didn’t want to agitate my dangerous, strange visitor. Relaxed, but also alert and prepared, I was aware that violence might erupt at any moment. I offered my guest a seat, made him feel comfortable and gently talked to him. I asked him questions like how he had come to such a gory decision. But while we were talking, my mind was busy working double time, thinking of a solution to save my son from danger. There were many things to consider, but since the issue was about death, and what was at stake was a loved-one’s life, my first recourse was to kill. 

There were three primary killing options: First, me and my son’s two bedroom condominium was on the fourth floor of a five story building. To sweet talk a seemingly naive, disturbed, would-be killer into jumping from the building (with a little help from a push of my hands or my own body against him) was a possibility, although it would be unsafe and I’d be liable. Second, the kitchen knives are sharp and always ready for use in the kitchen cabinet. Finally third, I knew that by being aware of a person’s vital body points, by using the element of surprise, by having a deadly plan, and by having the will to kill with the help of an exact amount of anger, a bare hand can kill a defenseless and trusting person. Seemingly, the confessed would-be killer was passive and careless to the extent that he appeared to not care for his own life. During our conversation there were times where I was standing at his back, giving me the opportunity to deliver one of my deadly plans. Maybe he felt dead already, or maybe he found me to be harmless and not as moronic a killer as he, or perhaps he was indeed a fool to trust me that much. All these concerns went through my head while I set up my options to kill. Killing him would be easier than to die for my son, but the second option was not a one to consider, for it was a decision that I had long ago decided upon. But should I kill or harm a desperate man who was already in pain with no will to live? One who was lifeless and practically dead?

“Your son stole my woman,” he blankly said. “I’m sorry, but I must kill him.” When he said this, I sensed the pain. I understood where he was coming from and I was able to relate to him. I could feel his torment, for I was once in his predicament as well. I knew the feeling. Killing him would be like killing my old self.

As we spoke, I learned that Steve, the middle age would-be killer was living with Daisy, a seventeen year old Filipina, whom he said was his wife. “I invested so much on this woman; I cannot just let her go. But if I do, I will have to get even,” he added.

When this event happened, my son was an eighteen year old Filipino/American English-speaking “Balikbayan” (home-comer) whom I have not seen for almost ten years. My only son is a musician; and fortunately, on that night, he was at a nearby province performing a gig with his band. He survived the threat, and he is still alive now. As for Steve, that was the first and the last time I ever saw him. I never had a chance to see his girl, Daisy, but I am quite familiar with her kind. Steve was so stupid to even think of killing or dying for a woman like her. My son was too young to have that knowledge, but even so, can I blame him? A pretty, sweet little thing is enough for some people to kill or die, even for only “a one night stand”. I would not, but I know now that a father would do that for his son.