I am worried for Mister Bennet. He is such a good, kind man. Well, he sometimes is. Okay, occasionally he says "good morning" to me, but other than that, he really has no manners whatsoever.
Despite his shortcomings in politeness, he is devoted to fighting the evil paper company he once worked for. Killing his old friend, Ivan, was just part of that fight. I am concerned, though, that he enjoyed it more than he should have. He is going to Hell!
It's a place I have been before. My daddy, Old Haitian, was a mean old man, but wise and powerful. Growing up under his rule during a Haitian summer really felt like Hell sometimes. Plus, we had no television. I was denied my Saturday morning cartoons and instead had to rely on rabbit skinning for entertainment.
But I am not here to talk about me. Mister Bennet has been good to me. In some ways, he is very much like a father to me, but better. Sometimes, if I'm good, he'll let me drive the Nissan. And he always takes me for ice cream after a successful bag and tag. Yet, now it's been a long time since we've had ice cream together. He is a changing man. It's almost as if the idea he had devoted his life to had suddenly turned out to be a lie. He has lost his faith.
I tried saving him by clapping. It works with dead fairies.
"Stop that," he would say, "I'm trying to sleep."
As he lied his head down on his pillow, I would begin clapping again.
It was no use. My father, he was a shaman. I'm sure he would know what to do. When he was upset with someone, he would give them diarrhea. So, I tried sneaking laxatives into his food. But amazingly they had no affect on him! It's amazing what the company can teach.
I fear there is no hope for Mister Bennet. He is a good man, but he does evil things. I think it will only get worse as time goes on. Perhaps the bullet in the glasses is the only thing that can stop his ruthlessness. Or perhaps its just a midlife crisis. Maybe it will pass?