LIVIN’ AIN’T EASY

At 7 a.m. it was 12 degrees outside. Inside the sparsely furnished row house the temp might have been 20 but neither Johnny, Jane, nor their children had a thermometer to check it out. Josie, the younger child, was 5 plus 3 months and was lying very still in her parent’s bed, getting as much warmth as she could from their bodies. Jess, aged 10, was stoking the old pot belly stove in the kitchen, throwing in pieces of broken orange crates. They were all miserably cold.

The electricity was still working. The gas range enabled Jane to warm up some milk in a small aluminum pan and then pour the milk over instant Oatmeal. Johnnie and Jane had gotten out of their bed as quietly as they could, leaving the baby cuddled under two blankets. Josie has on so many layers she wobbled when she walked.

Johnny was the first to leave the house. He had a plaid woolen cap with only one ear muff still attached and a warm muffler his mother had knitted for him during last year’s hot summer that flew away too fast. The muffler he wrapped twice around his neck and tucked its ends inside his jacket, walked three blocks to his bus stop. The heat inside the bus made his toes tingle and his hands thaw. It was nice to unwrap the wonderful muffler his mother had labored over so he just leaned back on the leather seat and relaxed for a few comfortable minutes.

As he was a fairly new cashier/bagger at Super Shop, he had ro stay outside with the few early birds until the door opened. As soon as he stepped inside, his glasses fogged up. With used, crushed Kleenex he managed to clear them and hurried to the employees room. There he hung up is jacket, put the cap in a pocket, and stuffed the warm muffler his mother knitted for him tightly into the left sleeve, then went to his station. The manager groaned a few times, cursed the cold and set up a hot coffee table near the main entrance, strategically place a ‘FREE’ sign on the door.

The sun was out all day but terribly weak. The city, for a short time, reached 30, which felt like being on a safari in Nairobi. By 4 p.m. the sun didn’t even blink. It just died. It was then 25. Customers were just about non-existent. At 5:30 the manager locked the doors individually, had the cashiers count and empty their registers and then let everyone go home early. He checked all the doors more than once and the lights dimmed.

Johnny had to face the wind again, have the chill shatter his bones and hated thinking about his family cold all day. He cried for them and for himself. His bus was running late so that even is teeth were dancing. The warm muffler was over his wool cap and he was still cold.

The bus came in sight at the same moment a young boy in a black cardigan sweater, black cotton turtle neck shirt and corduroy pants showed up. Johnnie looked at the walking icicle, pulled off the muffler his mother had so lovingly made for him, and without a word, put it twice around the boy’s neck and stepped on the bus.

The boy walked away, waving his silent thanks to Johnny. Johnny felt warm inside.