Visiting the old second-hand bookshop in town was something he did whenever he had the time.
Today, he had at least twenty minutes before the next bus, so he wandered in and began strolling through the aisles. He was browsing through the titles of books along a shelf of tatty-looking paperbacks, when he came across it. He pulled it out and stood staring at the front cover, with old memories flooding back. It was one of the books his class had needed to study, some twenty-odd years ago. It looked grubby, with part of the front cover torn off. Inside was no better; lots of dirty marks and some faint scribbling. Out of nothing more than curiosity, he moved to a spot where the light was better, trying to read what had been written.
The first thing that caught his eye was the date. It was during his own school years. Then, with difficulty, he read the owner’s name. He recognised the boy immediately. This very nasty kid had been in his class. He had never liked him. Apart from being a show-off, he was a bully. He continually picked on school kids younger than himself. More than once, the rotten kid had stolen things from his school desk. He had done this with anything he liked the look of. He was forever getting into trouble.
Thinking back, he remembered how he found himself having to try as hard as he could to keep out of his way. He also remembered, not so long ago, reading an item in the newspaper about him being given time in prison for attempted murder. It seems he shot the owner of a convenience store he was trying to rob, who had nearly died. At the time of reading this, he hadn’t been at all surprised to find out what had become of him.
Turning back to the ruined cover, he read the title again, ‘The Moral Path to Take’. He remembers studying it. A book, in which the author makes a powerful case for morality in all walks of life. He bought the book.
When he got home, he went straight to his computer to see what more he could find out about the case. One article indicated which prison the man was serving his time in.
After including a short inscription above the original pencilled notes, he wrapped the book up in brown paper. Adding the man’s name and the prison’s address, he took a casual stroll into the village post office, where he sent it off. He was sure they would open it at the prison for security reasons, looking for drugs, weapons and the like, but after a short delay, he would get it. In fact, he was convinced that they’d be happy to pass it on.
His only regret being that he wouldn’t be there when the prisoner opened the parcel. Particularly, when he read the message, written in large, clear block capital letters. It read, ‘NO BENEFIT GAINED FROM THIS BOOK, I NOTE, DUMMY!’