Roland was enjoying a walk through the North Woods of Central Park, something he liked to do whenever he needed to clear his mind. He found the sounds of the waterfall and musings of the birds to be very therapeutic.

A few hours earlier, Roland came home, a bouquet of flowers in hand, to find his boyfriend of three years, Travis, in bed with another man. Keeping his calm, Roland told Travis to pack whatever he could and leave his apartment. Roland left and walked to Central Park.

As Roland was in the middle of conducting the robins, a scream jarred him back to reality. “Hello,” he called out while trying to pinpoint the source.

“Please help me!” A voice rang out and Roland ran towards it. He found a woman stumbling backwards. “Somebody, please help me,” she yelled again. Stalking her was a multi-tentacled monstrosity. Its movements were slow but deliberate. Without a second thought, Roland charges the Lovecraftian terror, bringing both to the ground.

Running on pure adrenaline, Ronald hammers his fists into the beast’s face. With little effort, it flings him into the air, an uncompromising ground, breaking his fall. The creature starts moving in on its newfound prey and Roland shuffles backwards, grasping for anything that can be used as a weapon, finally finding a branch. He gets up and charges the otherworldly being, ramming it into its eye. It screams out in pain and pierces Roland’s torso with two of its tentacles in retaliation. But Roland is steadfast and pushes the branch in even deeper. With blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and fighting through unimaginable pain, Roland breaks off a piece of the branch and rams it into the other eye. The tentacles retreat and they both collapse.

The woman hobbles over and holds Roland’s hand. “Oh my God, please hold on. Help is on its way. Please don’t die,” she says through sobs. “Thank you for saving me.”

Roland smiles and says, “you’re welcome. I’m just glad that you’re okay.” And with his last breath he tells the woman, “Please let Travis know that I will always love him.”

*

On the anniversary of his death, Scott stood somber, daughter held tightly in his arms. They were watching Teresa pay her respects. She was standing in front of a plaque, wiping tears away with her hand.

“Daddy, why is mommy crying?”

As the tears started to well up in his own eyes, he said, “mommy is just saying thank you to a nice man that helped her last year.”

Travis walks over and sets the bouquet down at the base of the tree. He looks at Teresa, both teary eyed, and they move in for an embrace. After a few moments, they run their hand over the words etched into the plaque, reading its immortalized words:

IN REMBERANCE OF ROLAND PARKER

A GOOD SAMARITAN