Jacob's Luck
I foraged in the trashcans at the
working class commuters before finding a hard bench to sleep on. Within
moments, two hysterical kids stood before me with pocket knives poised to
strike. Their resolute voices echoed through my brain, "Hey you, this is
our bench - get away!"
In Xhosa culture, community is everything and the ability to share is
instinctive, not with these comrades. I scurried away and found a bus shelter.
I needed a bath, a job, and precious sleep; not necessarily in that
order.
I awoke to horns blaring. Commuters stared down at me from a safe distance as
though I were infected with a contagious disease. Indeed, death seemed
more comforting and I fled.
*****
I was crossing
"If only my assistant was around when these things happen. He's always
busy rubbing that limo instead of helping me," she said, just as the
driver appeared and relieved her of the packets. "You're too late,
work for the gift shop?"
"No, madam."
"Thought so, haven't seen you here. I come here once a month. Too many
useless staff if you ask me, none as helpful as yourself. What's your
name?"
”Jacob Zwane."
She raised an eyebrow. 'My husband's name was Jacob, bless his soul. Follow
me."
She returned to the shop and called for the manager who seemed surprised to see
her.
"Is there a problem, madam?"
"This man needs a job."
"We have no vacancies."
"Well, Mr. Parsons, I suggest you find him something. Anything."
"At once, Mrs. Dent."
Louis Harris
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|
Name |
Comment |
Date |
|
Erna |
Echoes of OHenry.
I like warm fuzzy endings that renew my faith in I would have liked more detail,
though: a longer build-up to the dénouement, so that I could get to know
Jacob & his back story better first, before the delightful change in his
luck. I could not “see” Jacob clearly – perhaps also because his voice did
not convince me that he was a Xhosa man. |
2007-09-26 |
|
Mandy |
I like the way you describe the
tramp. You really get inside his skin and portray what it must be like to be
in that space. |
2007-09-29 |