A hanger. A coat. Another hanger. No coat. Emptiness was all she felt.
SUSIE
Susie was the friendliest woman. She would give the shirt off her back to just about anyone who needed it. Her family would joke around with her saying “you’re so giving, if you ever got robbed, you’d end up telling them, ‘hey wait up! I got more stuff!’” Her husband created that line. He was her family. He was her life. She became that friendly because of him. He would give to anyone and everyone. He loved helping people with no reason at all. When he died, it was like she died, too. If he was her life, and he was gone-never to return-then she had nothing. Nothing at all.
Every morning she woke up. She made her bed. She brushed her teeth, wetting the toothbrush before and after applying the toothpaste. She made herself some breakfast, but nothing too much. Since her husband’s death, even food wasn’t the same to her. It was like she went from loving everything to hating everything overnight.
She hated the holidays…hated Christmas in particular. For someone who hated Christmas as much as she did since her husband’s death, she only put up one Christmas decoration. It wasn’t even a decoration. It was a frame. The frame consisted of a man and a woman, her and her husband. They were kissing as the man held up his brand new gift, a thick, black winter coat. He loved that coat. Something as simple as a coat was the perfect representation of her husband. He was giving, and warm. He loved the gift because she gave it to him. He kept everything from her. Even if it was just chilly enough for a sweatshirt, he’d wear that coat. “It’s not that cold,” she would laugh.
“If it’s cold, I'll wear this. And if it’s not cold, I’ll still wear it!” He always knew how to make her laugh. Below the picture rested her wedding ring. She never walked out of the house without it. It would only make sense that she would walk out with a winter coat, too, given the fact that it was freezing out and just a week until Christmas day. But she wouldn’t. Her coat hanger was the symbol of her life. Half empty. Some might say half full, but not Susie…not when it came to her husband. It was either all or nothing. Susie walked out of her apartment complex building the same for the past year. No smile, no ounce of joy-which seemed like heresy since Christmas was right around the corner. Speaking of right around the corner…
HARRICK
Outside in the freezing weather without any sort of warmth, besides useless gloves only covering his palms, sat the homeless man. His name was Harrick. He had sideburns and a hairdo that looked almost like Elvis from afar. Harrick was gentle, and kind, willing to give the shirt off his back as well, but couldn’t at times like these since it was freezing out. Plus, he didn’t have many shirts.
Susie walked right by him. As the wind smacked them in the back, Harrick’s hat blew a few feet away from him. In it were a few dollars. The money could have been saved from flying out if Susie had reached and grabbed it for him, but she didn’t.
“Get a job” she murmured.
Harrick managed to grab his hat, losing two dollars from the wind, which doesn’t seem like a lot but it did for him. He watched Susie as she entered her 2005 Saturn. It was gray, it was old, and nearly on its way out. It could only take so much more-like the owner.
As Harrick made his way back to his spot, he noticed a young woman…
CATHY
A waitress for a hoppin’ coffee shop, and an aspiring teacher, she had her mind focused on her goals. With a thousand goals ready to achieve, everything could’ve been completely erased like a snap of the finger if she continued to look down at her phone, scrolling through Jimi Hendirx songs. She enjoyed the unknown songs. “Let everyone else listen to the same songs over and over again, I know the real hits,” she thought to herself every time she spoke about him. She loved his greatest hits, of course, but couldn’t jam out to the same songs everyday. “If you’re gonna listen to-say-five songs by the same dude all the time, might as well listen to all of his songs,” she would preach.
A bus speeding down the road was heading right for Cathy, but she had no clue. She didn’t just listen to Hendrix, she LISTENED to Hendrix, blasting every song to the maximum volume, investing herself into every lyric and guitar riff. But the bus grew closer…and closer…and closer…seconds away from slamming right into her. There was nothing the driver could do at that point.
She looked up as Harrick grabbed her arm, unable to catch a glimpse of the bus as it drove right by her, just brushing her untied shoelace. Harrick saved her life. Cathy stared at Harrick, awaiting a response. Hating to pause any Hendrix song, she did. She unplugged one earbud and rudely said, “What?” Harrick just looked at her, confused. “The…the bus. It…you were looking down at your phone,” Harrick tried to explain. Then tried again, “you would’ve died. That bus almost hit you.”
“Thank you” is all she said, and she left it at that. She turned, resumed her song, and continued walking. Walking down the street, not scrolling through songs anymore, she kept her eyes focused ahead. Right down the corner stood the breakfast diner she worked at. Halfway through the song, she rewinded it back to the beginning and paused it there. “No song can go unlistened,” she would say. Talk about a loyal Hendrix fan.
She removed her earbuds from her ears, leaving them plugged into her phone as she slid it in her front pocket. Waiting behind a single mother and her three children struggling to hold the door open so she can stroll her baby inside, Cathy tied her hair in a bun. She finished. She waited for the single mother to get inside so she could enter. The thought of helping finally entered her brain, as she leaned forward and opened the door for…
ROSAMARIA
The two younger kids walked in like nothing, unappreciative of Cathy holding the door for her. Rosamaria strolled her baby inside and turned to Cathy with a smile, “Thank you so much. I wish there were more like you.” Cathy paused after seeing Rosamaria’s face. Rosamaria was Cathy’s old teacher. She taught in her school for only a month, but she touched Cathy’s heart like no other teacher could. If it wasn’t for Rosamaria, Cathy would never have wanted to become a teacher. Cathy’s school was Rosamaria’s worst. None of the students appreciated her, or what she taught. She knew Cathy appreciated her.
She didn’t recognize Cathy since it had been three years since she taught, and especially because she was in a rush to get inside and assure her kids wouldn’t wander off. She managed to sit at a booth with her kids sitting still in front of her. Facing the door to enter and exit, Rosamaria prepared to close her eyes in prayer, but grew distracted by her son fiddling with the mini Christmas tree decoration on the table. The delay of prayer ended up beneficial as Rosamaria noticed a man on the phone rushing out of the diner. As he did, his wallet fell out of his jacket pocket.
Will Rosamaria grab the wallet for the man? Or will it be too late to even try? Find out next week for Part 2 of the three part series.
Every other month a four part series will be released every week, each month telling a different, interesting story! Tune in for short, creative stories!
