Jacob's Bell

by John Snyder

  “Remember, the rule here, we say our blessings before we eat.”

  “Oh, that’s right, I forgot.”

  “Forgetting my name is one thing, but forgetting to give praise is another,” Howard said gently.

  They bowed their heads and Howard said a brief prayer. During breakfast, Howard, again, brought up the subject of Jacob’s family and what was troubling him so. His attempt at conversation was met with the same result as the day before. Howard let it pass without another question.

  As soon as Jacob had taken his last bite, he stood up.

  “Where’s my coat and my backpack?” Jacob asked eagerly.

  “Seriously, Jacob, why don’t you consider staying here for a few more days until you get back on your feet?”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I have to go.”

  “Please stay.”

  “It’s very generous of you to offer, but I can’t.”

  “If you insist on leaving, then take this.” Howard took some money from his wallet and handed it to Jacob.

  “I can’t accept your money.”

  “Call it a loan. You can pay me back when your fortunes turn.”

  Jacob’s face contorted in protest as he slightly shook his head “No.”

  “Take it, please.”

  Jacob’s eyes locked on Howard, who nodded.

  “All right, I’ll take it, but only as a loan, not charity.”

  They stood, shook hands, and Jacob left the Salvation Army Mission, heading back out into the streets of Chicago.

  Chapter Five

  Jacob walked about aimlessly, trying to summon the courage to visit his sons. As he walked, he thought about what he might say to Tom when he saw him, and what he would say to Frankie. What could he say? How could he make it all better with mere words? He envisioned the meeting and hoped it wouldn’t turn out like his previous meetings had, with him and Tom arguing. The last time they saw each other, Frankie begged Jacob not to leave, but Tom felt much different. So Jacob, as he’d done many times in the past, left once again.

  Jacob got off the streetcar at the corner of Wabash and Washington and walked up Washington Street to the row house bearing Tom’s last known address. Stopping in front of 1641, he attempted to summon the grit to knock on the door, but before he did, he drifted back to a distant time, a time when he held Tom, his firstborn son, in his arms.

  “Isn’t he handsome?” Amanda said as she put her arms around Jacob and the infant son he held. Glancing up at Jacob, she smiled. “Just like his papa.”

  Jacob leaned in and gently kissed his wife on the lips. “I think he got his looks from his mom, not his pop.”

  Emma, a little more than two, toddled over and grabbed her father’s leg. Jacob handed the infant off to Amanda, leaned over, and lifted Emma into his arms. “Speaking of beautiful, here’s my little Emma,” Jacob said with pride. He playfully held her over his head and blew air onto her bare stomach with his lips, making flatulent sounds, which always made Emma laugh.

  “Jacob!” Amanda laughed.

  “Oh, she likes it.” He held her up and did it again, then held her close to his chest. She smelled so good. Jacob loved the scent of a freshly bathed baby.

  The front door of 1641 Washington Street opened and a woman emerged. It wasn’t Betty, Tom’s wife, and it wasn’t anyone Jacob recognized. She stared at him curiously as she walked by. Jacob let her pass, and then he said, “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  She turned to him, a bit put off by his unkempt and soiled appearance.

  “Are you talking to me?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jacob replied. “Do you live here?”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but why is that a concern of yours?”

  “Let me explain. My son, Thomas McCallum, and his family…this is the address I have for them. I have come a long way to visit.”

  “Well…yes, I do live here. But there’s no Thomas McCallum in the residence. I’ve lived here for more than a year now.”

  Slipping his hands into his coat pockets, Jacob turned and slowly began walking away, gazing at the ground.

  “Wait a minute, sir!” the woman said. Jacob turned around hopefully. “There was a young man with his family who lived here before I moved in. I don’t know where he moved to, but Mr. Schmidt may know.”

  “Mr. Schmidt?”

  “Oh, he’s the landlord. He may have your son’s forwarding address.”

  “Where can I find this Mr. Schmidt?”

  “He lives in the house on the corner,” the woman said, pointing to a brick home up the street.

  “Thanks. I’ll give him a try.”

  “Good luck,” the woman said as she turned and walked up the sidewalk.

  Jacob stood there for another moment, thinking. I’m so out of touch with my children that I don’t even know where they live. Redirecting his attention up the street to the house the woman had pointed out to him, he said aloud, “I guess I’ll go have a talk with this Mr. Schmidt.”

  He proceeded up the hill, hopeful the man had a record of Tom’s new address. Jacob walked up the front steps and onto the porch. Stopping at the wooden door with a large glass oval in the center, he knocked timidly—waiting for a moment before knocking again…this time louder. There was no answer. He walked across the front porch and peeked into the window to see if there was anyone home. There wasn’t. Taking a seat on the front steps, he thought, I’ll just wait here for a while. He watched as the wind raked the leaves from the tall oak tree in the tiny front yard. After sitting there for more than an hour, he decided to call it a day.

  * * *

  The moon rose over the Chicago skyline. Jacob, dejected by the day’s events, found his way back to Kelly’s Bar. He walked in the front door and found the joint filled with people—a rowdy crowd. Finding no seat at the bar, Jacob fetched a chair near the pool table, where two grizzly men were shooting a game of pool and drinking heavily. A wad of dollar bills lay on the corner of the table, waiting for the winner to grab. Curious, he observed them for a while. By habit, he fumbled through his pockets looking for a smoke. His search, as usual, was unsuccessful. Old habits die hard. He scanned the floor and spotted a cigarette butt that still had some life left in it. As he leaned over to snatch it, one of the inebriated fellows playing pool stumbled over Jacob’s arm and fell to the floor. The place got real quiet.

  “Hey! What’s the idea of tripping me?”

  As Jacob looked up, the burly man lifted himself off the floor, his unshaven face red with anger. The guy dusted off his pants with an ample set of hands, and then charged toward Jacob like a raging bull, grabbing him by the shirt, ripping it as he lifted him off the ground. The unruly crowd reacted with excitement.

  “What’s the idea, bub? What do ya got to say for yourself?”

  Jacob said nothing so the brute shoved him to the floor.

  “Get up! Get up and fight like a man!”

  Someone in the crowd screamed, “Yeah!” Then everybody started shouting, trying to spur the big guy and Jacob into a fight. Jacob knew better. He got up, but not to fight. He turned to walk away and the man shoved him again.

  “You’re yella!” the man hollered.

  The crowd began jeering Jacob.

  “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Then don’t go around tripping people.”

  “I didn’t mean to trip you.”

  The man charged Jacob again, this time with his fists clenched in a fighting posture. The crowd cheered its approval. Suddenly, an even larger man grabbed Jacob’s aggressor from behind.

  “Hold your water, Henry.”

  It was the bartender—thankfully not the one whom Jacob had the pleasure of meeting the previous morning.

  “Well, he started it! He tripped me!” the man bellowed.

  “I saw the whole thing, Henry. He was reaching for something on the floor and you stumbled over his arm. If you weren’t so darn drunk, you wouldn’t have fallen down.”

  “Let go o
f me!”

  “I’ll let go of you when you settle down, and not a minute before.”

  “All right. All right! I’m fine now!” the man snapped angrily.

  “Okay. I’m going to let go of you and here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to get your hat and coat, and you’re going to leave for the night without saying another word to this gentleman. Right?”

  “Gentleman? You call this bum a gentleman?”

  There was a pause. The bartender, still grasping the man from behind in a bear hug, gave another squeeze and leaned back slightly, lifting Henry, causing his boots to hover about two inches off the floor.

  “Right?” the bartender demanded, this time using more persuasion.

  “All right.”

  The bartender released him and Henry swaggered out the door, mumbling under his breath.

  “I’m sorry for the trouble,” Jacob conceded. “But thank you. I think I was in for a hard whippin’.”

  “Oh, don’t mind Henry. He can turn pretty nasty when he gets a snoot full, but he’s not a bad fellow, really.”

  “Here,” the bartender said, offering Jacob a cigarette. “This will be better than the one I saw you reaching for on the floor.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You look like you’re a little down on your luck. Are you from around these parts?”

  “Originally, but I’ve been on the road awhile.”

  “Family here?”

  “Yes. I have two sons here in Chicago.”

  “Are you staying with them?”

  “Well, hopefully I will be when I find them.”

  “Where are you staying in the meantime?”

  “Actually, I just got into town and I don’t have a place to stay.”

  “Tell you what,” the bartender said with a smile. “You look like you could use a hand, and so could I. If you stay and help me clean up the place after we close, there’s a cot in the storeroom you can sleep on for the night. You’ll be locked in after I leave, but Carl, my partner, will let you out when he opens in the morning. You can tell him I said you could stay the night, and I’ll leave him a note, as well.”

  “By the way, my name’s Bill Austin,” the bartender said, extending his hand to Jacob. “What’s yours?”

  “Jacob McCallum,” Jacob reciprocated, noticing the hugeness of the man’s hand as he shook it. It appeared more like a bear’s paw than a hand as it clamped down on his like a vise.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it,” Jacob said.

  “Here, you could probably use one of these, too,” Bill said as he poured Jacob some whiskey into a glass.

  “I sure could.”

  The two men talked for a while. As the place emptied out, Jacob began putting the chairs upon the tables and swept the floor. After he helped Bill wash the last of the glasses, the place looked pretty tidy.

  “Well…I guess I’ll be leaving now. The cot’s in the storeroom behind the bar. Carl will be in around eight o’clock in the morning to open up. He can let you out. Good luck finding your sons.”

  “Hey, I appreciate all your help,” Jacob said.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Bill turned out the lights as he left, leaving just a dim lamp on over the bar. Jacob heard him lock the door from the outside, and then shake the lock, making certain it was latched. Bill had left an open pack of cigarettes on the bar. Jacob assumed they were for him. He retrieved an ashtray, turned off the light, and retreated to the storeroom, where he reclined on the cot, lighting his cigarette. The cot felt good against his aching back. He set the ashtray on his chest and drew deeply on his smoke. The red glow turned amber, lighting his surroundings. He inhaled, filling his lungs to capacity. Holding his breath for an instant, he exhaled fully, expelling all the smoke from his lungs. Emotionally and physically drained, Jacob let his mind drift as he took an accounting of his life. How could he have let his life slip away, a life that by almost every measure had been perfect? He reflected upon his relationship with Amanda, and how, from the first day he laid eyes on her, he knew she would be his wife. Initially, she wasn’t quite as convinced. But after months of Jacob’s relentlessness, she warmed to his brash ways, and once she did, you couldn’t pry her and Jacob apart. When times were good, they shared an especially deep love—until Jacob destroyed it, that is.

  Jacob extinguished his cigarette, setting the ashtray on the floor. He sprawled on his back, raising his arms above his head, cradling it in his interlocked fingers. By now, his eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. A faint light from the street crept into the room through a small window, allowing him to see the slight shadows. He looked around the dirty room, which, with the exception of a few cleaning supplies and boxes, was virtually empty. Jacob remembered a time when he wouldn’t have been caught dead even sipping a drink in a place like this, let alone sleeping on a cot in the storeroom because he had nowhere else to stay. Jacob’s former life took him to the finest hotels in New York, San Francisco, New Orleans, and other cities from coast to coast. As he lay there, his eyes became heavy with sleep and he let his mind drift to a more peaceful place.

  It was 1905. Jacob and Nick had just taken over a small manufacturing business that Nick’s father had started about fourteen years before. The business manufactured brakes and other parts for the railroad industry. It was small, but provided a decent living for twenty-three people. Nick and Jacob started out working for Nick’s father, forging steel. But when Nick’s father became ill, Nick and Jacob hatched a plan to become equal partners and buy the business. They bought Nick’s father out over time. Jacob and Nick set up a new corporation, J & N Manufacturing, of which each held fifty percent of the stock. They agreed that if either of them died, the surviving partner would purchase at least one additional percentage of the company’s stock, making him the majority owner.

  The young men approached their new venture with much vigor and enthusiasm. They were never satisfied, working long hours to manufacture better parts. Their efforts paid off as they developed a reputation for reliability and their business flourished.

  One Sunday afternoon in June, Nick dragged Jacob to a family gathering to celebrate his Aunt Helen’s birthday—a picnic in Nick’s aunt and uncle’s backyard. Jacob didn’t really want to go, but went as a favor to Nick. On the way, Nick reassured him, “We’ll just stay for a little while, and then we’ll leave.”

  As they made their rounds greeting Nick’s relatives, Jacob’s eyes locked on to the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

  “Who’s that?” he enthusiastically asked Nick.

  “Oh. That’s my kid cousin, Amanda.”

  “She’s no kid. She’s beautiful. How old is she?”

  “She’s only seventeen, too young for you.”

  Seventeen, Jacob thought. That’s not too young. Jacob was twenty-one at the time and hadn’t dated much—being too busy with the business. He studied Amanda as she moved from person to person, her magnetic personality seeming to captivate all those to whom she spoke. She moved about so gracefully, making the sunny summer day even brighter for Jacob. Her blond hair glowed like a golden halo in the afternoon light.

  “Nicky, how are you?” Amanda said as she rushed up to him. “I hear your business is doing great. We’re all so proud of you.”

  Jacob stood by, jealous of all the attention being showered on Nick by the girl he was dying to meet. Like Nick had done it all by himself, Jacob thought. How about introducing your business partner over here, he said silently.

  Amanda just kept talking away. She touched Nick on the arm as she spoke. It was driving Jacob crazy. Hey, Nick! Jacob shouted in his mind. How about introducing me! Surely he will, Jacob reasoned.

  Amanda rose onto her tiptoes, calling Jacob’s attention to her long and slender legs as she kissed Nick on the cheek, then turned to walk away. Hey, Nick! Over here! I can’t believe he’s going to let her walk away without introducing us.

  “Hey, Nick. Thanks a lot!” Jacob said after Ama
nda was gone.

  “For what?”

  “For nothing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Thanks for introducing me to your cousin,” Jacob said rhetorically.

  “But…I didn’t.”

  “That’s my point.”

  “Oh, you wanted to meet her?”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  Nick grabbed Jacob by the arm and pulled him over to where Amanda stood in conversation with another guest.

  “You don’t have to be so obvious,” Jacob said as he offered a bit of insincere resistance.

  “You said you wanted to meet her, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but could we be a little more subtle?”

  “Subtle?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Do you want to meet her or not?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then come on!”

  “Amanda!” Nick shouted, attracting everyone’s attention. “There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”

  Oh, what a great introduction, Jacob thought.

  “This is my friend and business partner, Jacob McCallum.”

  “Hello, Jacob. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Amanda said as she extended her hand. She favored Jacob with an endearing smile, her electric blue eyes staring straight into his.

  Jacob awkwardly took her hand, which felt like a kidskin glove. He wasn’t prepared and at a loss for words. He just stood there like an idiot, his heart pounding in his chest, unable to speak. Say something, stupid! his inner voice cried out. But his body wouldn’t respond.

  “Well…it was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” Amanda said as she turned and walked away, a bit perplexed.

  “You sure are smooth with the ladies,” Nick joked. “I’ll bet you made a memorable impression.”

  Jacob couldn’t believe he’d fumbled the opportunity to meet the girl of his dreams. He just stood there, gawking at Amanda from afar.

  “Are you ready to go?” Nick asked.

  Jacob didn’t even hear him.

  Nick punched him on the arm. “Let’s go, Romeo.”