Aftermath

Spencer watched as Penelope and Luther slowed down again and walked behind the rest.
“See, that’s violence. That’s hurtful, what they just did. I gave that bum a dollar, and you see, no violence was had on my head. Now, Luther is not as charitable as me, and look what happens—violence, suicide threats, molestation—but still, I’m the one on trial.”
Missy said, “Don’t you think you’ll get out of it?”
Charles answered for him, “If Spencer goes to jail, I’m going to need a new roommate.”
“I’m going to jail. There’s evidence. There’s nothing to do to cover it up. I’ve resigned myself to the fact.”
“But you’re not like other people that go to jail!” Missy pleaded.
“And how many of those have you known?” Charles asked. “The criminal mind is trained to be ordinary in ordinary circumstances, and totally fucked up when nobody else is looking.”
“I guess that makes me a criminal then. And I deserve what I’m going to get. Right?”
“The law isn’t overly emotive.” Charles reasoned.
They emerged from the park and back on the city streets. The night almost over, and nobody wanted to extend it any further. Not even Spencer, who by this point was walking with his head on Missy’s shoulder, and his arm around her waist. Penelope went home with Luther, Jeanne went home with Marcus, and Charles went home alone.