Bill Andrews was a big, awkward, homely guy. He dressed oddly with
ill-fitting clothes. There were several fellows who thought it smart to
make
fun of him. One day one fellow noticed a small tear in his shirt and gave
it
a small rip. Another worker in the factory added his bit, and before long
there was quite a ribbon dangling. Bill went on about his work and as he
passed too near a moving belt the shirt strip was sucked into the
machinery.
In a split second the sleeve and Bill were in trouble. Alarms were
sounded,
switches pulled, and trouble was avoided. The foreman, however, aware of
what had happened, summoned the men and related this story:
In my younger days I worked in a small factory. That's where I first met
Mike Havoc. He was big and witty, was always making jokes, and playing
little pranks. Mike was a leader. Then there was Pete Lumas who was a
follower. He always went along with Mike. And then there was a man named .
. Jake. He was a little older than the rest of us -- quiet, harmless,
apart.
He always ate his lunch by himself. He wore the same patched trousers for
three years straight. He never entered into the games we played at noon,
wrestling, horse shoes and such. He appeared to be indifferent, always
sitting quietly alone under a tree instead.
Jake was a natural target for practical jokes. He might find a live frog
in
his dinner pail, or a dead rodent in his hat. But he always took it in
good
humor. "Then one Fall when things were slack, Mike took off a few days to
go hunting. Pete went along, of course. And they promised all of us that if
they got anything they'd bring us each a piece. So we were all quite excited
when
we heard that they'd returned and that Mike had got a really nice big
buck.
We heard more than that. Pete could never keep anything to himself, and it
leaked out that they had a real hopper to play on Jake. Mike had cut up
the
critter and had made a nice package for each of us. And, for the laugh,
for
the joke of it, he had saved the ears, the tail, the hoofs -- it would be
so
funny when Jake unwrapped them. "Mike distributed his packages during the
noon hour. We each got a nice piece, opened it, and thanked him. The
biggest package of all he saved until last. It was for Jake.
Pete was all but bursting; and Mike looked very smug. Like always, Jake
sat
by himself; he was on the far side of the big table. Mike pushed the
package
over to where he could reach it; and we all sat and waited. Jake was never
one to say much. You might never know that he was around for all the
talking
he did. In three years he'd never said a hundred words. So we were all
quite
astounded with what happened next. "He took the package firmly in his grip
and rose slowly to his feet. He smiled broadly at Mike -- and it was then
we
noticed that his eyes were glistening. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down
for a moment and then he got control of himself.
"I knew you wouldn't forget me," he said gratefully; "I knew you'd come
through! You're big and you're playful, but I knew all along that you had
a good heart." He swallowed again, and then took in the rest of us. "I know
I haven't seemed too chummy with you men; but I never meant to be rude. You
see, I've got nine kids at home -- and a wife that's been an invalid --
bedfast now for four years. She ain't ever going to get any better. And
sometimes when she's real bad off, I have to sit up all night to take care
of her. And most of my wages have had to go for doctors and medicine. The
kids do all they can to help out, but at times it's been hard to keep food
in their mouths. Maybe you think it's funny that I go off by myself to eat
my dinner. Well, I guess I've been a little ashamed, because I don't
always
have anything between my sandwich. Or like today -- maybe there's only a
raw
turnip in my pail. But I want you to know that this meat really means a
lot
to me. Maybe more than to anybody here because tonight my kids," he wiped
the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, "...tonight my kids
will
have a really..." He tugged at the string.
We'd been watching Jake so intently we hadn't paid much notice to Mike and
Pete. But we all noticed them now, because they both dove at once to try
to
grab the package. But they were too late. Jake had broken the wrapper and
was already surveying his present. He examined each hoof, each ear, and
then
he held up the tail. It wiggled limply. It should have been so funny, but
nobody laughed -- nobody at all. But the hardest part was when Jake looked
up and said thank you while trying to smile. Silently one by one each man
moved forward carrying his package and quietly placed it in front of Jake
for they had suddenly realized how little their own gift had really meant
to them until now.
This was where the foreman left the story and the men. He didn't need to
say
anymore; but it was gratifying to notice that as each man ate his lunch
that
day, they shared part with Bill Andrews and one fellow even took off his
shirt and gave it to him.
