All In A Day's Work

COMPETITION: The Regular Writing Rampage
ID: 660949

Prompt: It was cold, really cold. Jake pulled the collar of his pea coat tighter around his neck. Hidden in the shadows he watched the doorway across the street. There has to be an easier way to make a living, he thought.


It was cold, really cold and here he was standing in a doorway trying not to get wet. Jake pulled the collar of his pea coat tighter around his neck. Hidden in the shadows, he watched the doorway across the street. There has to be an easier way to make a living, he thought.

He had been watching that doorway for three days. Not that it was an interesting door, but it was directly across from where he stood and he had to look at something. He knew it was just a side entrance to a dusty, old pawnshop.

Jake shivered a bit and pulled his arms closer to his sides in an attempt to hold in some of the warmth that was rapidly escaping from his body. He looked around at his dismal gray surroundings. Actually the afternoon was just beginning to wind down but the storm that had hung around all day was forcing the evening to come even sooner.

“Damn!” Jake thought as he shivered again. “Yesterday it was a warm, sunny day and today my $85 Nikes are soaked and I can’t feel my toes. It can’t be more than 40 degrees out here.” He stomped his feet and wiggled his toes inside his shoes trying to generate some feeling.

“All right, so in the grand scheme of things, 40 degrees is not cold,” he reasoned, “but this is Southern damn California and when it’s 75 one day and 40 the next, that’s COLD.” Jake suddenly realized that while he had been arguing with himself he had not been paying attention.

He hadn’t missed anything. The street was pretty quiet. The door across the street was still there. It had stopped raining so he stepped away from the doorway and looked up and down the street. The same ’65 Chevy with a cement block in place of a left rear tire was sitting in front the apartment building. He looked up the street at the Burger King. The lights were shining brightly beckoning people to come in out of the rain. As he watched the restaurant, a woman with a little boy left and walked to the corner. When the light changed, they crossed the street and walked down the sidewalk towards Jake. He recognized her, she and her son had passed him earlier on their way to Burger King. As they came closer, watching the little guy stomping gaily in the puddles on the sidewalk made Jake smile. The little boy didn’t care about the rain. He had been on an adventure and he still wore the cardboard crown from the restaurant to prove it. He was wound up; Mom looked tired. As they passed him, the boy jumped in a puddle directly in front of Jake causing water to splash up on his jeans.

“Lo siento,” the woman said.

“No problema,” Jake told her. The woman smiled and she and her son continued down the street.

Jake looked back at the apartment where the Chevy was parked. The paint was faded and the building looked sad and forgotten. Jake knew that up the street, behind the Burger King were brand new apartments. The stucco was clean, the gates didn’t squeak and the tiny patch of green in the front that stood for a lawn was green and manicured. Only in Southern California did the old and the new stand side-by-side and good and bad intermingle with ease.

A glance up at the sky told Jake that the sky was beginning to clear. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day, he thought as he returned his attention to the intersection. The lights from the business on the busy street reflected off the wet pavement, the air smelled clean and everything seemed to shine. He saw a young man turn the corner and begin to walk down the other side of the street across from where Jake was standing. The young man walked slowly, his head down. Jake stepped back into the doorway to watch him. The plain black jacket that covered the young man’s white T-shirt glistened from the rain and his over-sized black pants were wet from the cuffs to the knees.

The young man must have noticed Jake’s movement when he stepped back because he looked over at Jake and slowed his pace. He continued to watch Jake as Jake watched him. For a moment, their eyes met and Jake could feel the young man’s scrutiny.

“What’s the matter? You too damn stupid to come outta the rain?” they both seemed to say to each other. The young man broke eye contact first as he shook his head slightly, dismissing Jake, and continued down the street.

As Jake watched the young man disappear into the shadows, he saw the faded, red Honda come up the street and park behind the Chevy. “She’s home,” he thought. He smiled as he watched the woman get out of the car and go into the apartment building. The black slacks and polo shirt she wore told him she had just gotten home from work. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and he sighed softly. Jake was a sucker for a redhead. After she hurried through the unlocked gate, his eyes traveled to the window on the second floor, north corner. “She’s in,” he thought when the light came on, sending a soft, yellow glow into the air.

He knew that was her apartment because he had watched her remove mail from the box inside the gate. Apartment No. 12, J. Sinclair. No name, just J. As if that was some sort of protection. Was it Jane? Julie? No, Jennifer. She looked like a Jennifer. He began to wonder about what she was doing. Did she turn on the TV? Or the radio? Maybe the stereo? Was she opening her mail? Or making dinner?

“Nah,” he thought, “she’s a waitress. Probably ate at work. And the apartment’s quiet ‘cause the restaurant’s noisy. Maybe she’s changing clothes.” He smiled as images began to appear in his mind.

“Uh, don’t go there, Jake,” he told himself. “Just keep focused on what you’re supposed to be doing.” He stomped his feet as he slid his hands into his coat pockets and shivered slightly.

“What am I doing?” he wondered. “Standing in a doorway and waiting. Freezing, trying to look inconspicuous and waiting. Inconspicuous. How does a person look inconspicuous?”

“Be the wall.” Jake smiled as the memory passed through his mind. She had just come home from her acting class and she was demonstrating the exercise. “Be the wall,” she had said as she stood with her arms stretched out at her sides. She had tried to adopt a blank stare, as if there were no thoughts behind her blue eyes. Then she laughed and crumpled onto to the sofa next to him. He remembered the smell of her shampoo as she snuggled close to him. He missed that smell and the sound of her laugh. He missed the silky softness of her red hair as it fell across his chest.

Jake’s thoughts were interrupted by a man standing in front of him and he was momentarily startled. The man’s hair was rumpled and his faded T-shirt was wrinkled.

“Hey, buddy, do you want my money or not?” the young man demanded.

“What?” Jake asked. The young man held out a couple bills and his hand was shaking.

“I’ve got cash. I’ll take whatever you got.”

“Go away.”

“Come on, man. I just need a little to get by.”

“Take your money and get outta here.”

“Come on,” he begged.

“Get outta here before I call the cops.”

The young man stepped away from Jake and pushed the money back into his pocket. He seemed to be thinking about what Jake said for a moment before he turned and walked towards the intersection.

“Call the cops. Right,” Jake thought as he watched the man cross the street. “He probably was a cop. I get generous and it’s the end of this career.” He chuckled softly to himself then returned his attention to the apartment. Her car was still there and the light was still on so she hadn’t left. Before his mind could wander back to musing about what she might be doing, he took another look around the neighborhood.

There were a few more cars parked along the street and a few more lighted windows. An old man came out of the door across the street. He checked to make sure both locks were secure then walked down the street. Jake knew he lived a couple blocks down the street. The man had probably owned the little corner pawnshop for most of his life. The man walked slowly, as if there was no one waiting for him to come home.

“Got any spare change, mister?”

Jake turned and looked at the man who had approached him from the other direction. He was standing just out of arm’s reach, trying to appear non-confrontational. He hadn’t shaved in several days and his clothes had probably seen two or three previous owners.

“Haven’t got any change,” Jake said as he reached into his jeans pocket and handed him a five-dollar bill. The man took the bill tentatively and turned it over in his hands, examining it.

“Thanks, mister,” he said as he turned to leave. He took a step then looked back at Jake.

“God Bless.”

The man moved on but Jake’s attention had already shifted to a black BMW that had stopped alongside the Chevy and Honda and honked. The driver’s door opened and a man stepped out. He was an older man with slightly graying hair. As the man watched the apartment building the redhead came running out the door. She was wearing a close fitting green dress and her coat was thrown across her arm. The man walked around the front of the car to open the door for her and she smiled at him as she slid inside.

“He probably met her at Tony Roma’s when he took his wife and kids to dinner,” Jake scoffed as he watched the car speed through the yellow light at the intersection.

Jake sighed and looked up at the night sky. The light from the city effectively blocked the stars so the sky was just black. The dampness had permeated his clothing and the temperature had dropped. He was cold, his legs were starting to ache from standing and the redhead was gone. Why the hell should he stay? He reached into his coat pocket and took out the business-size cards. Only two left. He didn’t know what was printed on the front of the card. He didn’t want to know. He was paid to hand them out to anyone who asked the right question.

A shiny blue Toyota sped around the corner and stopped abruptly in front of Jake. A young man jumped out of the car, leaving the engine running, and walked over to Jake as his girlfriend watched.

“J.D. said you could help me.”

Jake eyed the young man for a moment then handed him one of the cards.

“Thanks,” he said as he jumped back in the car. He made a sharp U-turn, then turned right at the intersection, his tires squealing on the wet pavement.

Jake sighed once more and looked at his watch. He slowly turned the last card over but resisted the urge to look at it. Instead, he tore it into little pieces and dropped them on the ground.

He walked away from the doorway and up the street. The light turned green as he reached the intersection and he walked across the street and to his pick-up which he had parked in front the new apartments. He turned on the engine and switched on the heater but did not leave.

If it didn’t rain tomorrow, he’d go sit in the park for a while. Sometimes the redhead went jogging in the park. Jake remembered a pair of tight-fitting red shorts and smiled. He was beginning to feel warm and the feeling was returning to his feet. Maybe it was the heater, maybe not. He laughed softly and looked down at the little box of white cards sitting on the seat next to him.

He laughed again and drove away.