The Decision

 

Jimmy Flagg sat staring into a cold cup of coffee. A crumpled Lucky Strike package lay next to an ashtray full of smelly cigarette butts.

The small Hood Street dwelling he and his wife Irene had moved into to be closer to her parents had neither inside plumbing nor electricity. Make shift walls and curtains for doors divided the kitchen and living room from the sleeping areas. A tin sink with a water pump stood in a corner next to a stove for heating and cooking. Jimmy hated living in a place like this, but when the company he worked for as a traveling salesman went belly up, he became just another victim as the Great Depression settled on the nation like a pall.

Somehow during the night the fire in the stove had gone out. Awakened by the cold, Jimmy discovered that the water pump had completely frozen. He knew it was no use trying to prime it, because once frozen the only solution was to get some heat into the house. Jimmy looked out the window over the sink. There were heavy snow flurries in the air, early warnings of an approaching storm. If there was to be a lot of snow, Hood Street may become difficult to traverse, even on foot. He needed to take action now, but what could he do? Jimmy had no money.

 Sadly he looked on his wrist, where he wore a watch he had been given as a reward for outstanding salesmanship. Surely it was worth a bag of coal. Trade it? He would try.

Jimmy put on his overcoat and headed towards the store. At one point he slipped on the increasingly snow covered sidewalk, but caught his balance and didn't go down. The Boston Road Variety Store across from Friendly's was not yet open at that early hour, so he had to wait for the storekeeper. Finally, the trolley arrived, the proprietor got off and unlocked the door. Summoning up his courage, Jimmy pleaded with the storekeeper to trade the watch for a bag of coal.

In a stammering manner he explained the situation, but was finally reduced to ending with, "Please, as you know I have a wife and kids...." then he trailed off mid-sentence. Pitifully, his former skills as a salesman failed him. He turned to walk away.

The storekeeper responded in a tone that was mingled with both annoyance and sympathy. It was clear he didn't really want the watch, but he took it anyway, saying simply, "Pick up a bag of coal on your way out." Pity had won out where salesmanship had failed.

Elation at his success made the bag of coal feel light as Jimmy headed back home, yet by the time he got back he was still glad to put it down. While he was out, his wife, awakened by the cold, had dressed the kids and brought them over to her parent's a few houses away. She had just returned with her father and a kettle of hot water. The two of them were fussing with the pump when he walked in. His wife was delighted at the sight of the coal, but his father in law just stared at Jimmy without speaking, in a way that made Jimmy ashamed that he was unable to prevent the pump from freezing in the first place. Never in his marriage did he feel more like a failure than at that moment.

Jimmy's wife Irene, who could always read her husband's face, tried to reassure him by cheerfully exclaiming, "It's wonderful that you were able to get us some coal, darling! Light a match so we can make a fire in the stove. That pump will be defrosted in no time!"

Once the house was warm enough so that the pump was working, Grandfather DeGreire left to return home. It was still snowing outside, and Hood Street had become impassable to automobile traffic. Jimmy spent the rest of the day sipping from the pint he kept on the top shelf. "Jimmy do you have to?" was all his wife said when he first reached for the bottle, but then she resigned herself to the inevitable.

That evening, after a supper of hotdogs and beans, the bottle was down to just a few good swigs left. There was no money to buy more, and Sullivan's was certainly closed in this weather anyway. Jimmy could show a mean streak when he was drinking, and he was especially mean when he wanted to continue to drink but couldn't. There were words. Irene cried. He shouted at her to stop and when she didn't, he slapped her. Irene put the kids to bed, then went to sleep herself.

Jimmy sat at the kitchen table for a long time. Feeling a chill, he tamped out his last cigarette, added coal to the fire and returned to the table. Picking up the bottle, which had one last sip in it, he drank it down in a single gulp. Jimmy wanted more but knew the desire was futile. "A drink won't solve this anyway," he thought. Turning out the kerosene lamp, Jimmy went to bed. Laying there in the dark, he made his decision. "Tomorrow," he told himself firmly, "I will go seek a job with the WPA."