Indecision

A mysterious stranger delivers an unexpected message to a man down on his luck.

Indecision

 

     Fred moseyed over to his usual spot at the corner of Highway 101 and "M" street. It was early morning, and dew blanketed the grass-covered knoll. In a few minutes the sun would crest the mountains to the east.

     Fred grunted as he sat in the wet grass. The moist ground quickly soaked his threadbare corduroys, but he was used to that. He unbuttoned his ratty brown coat and removed a folded piece of cardboard. He unfurled his makeshift sign with the words "Anything Helps" written in black sharpie, and set it on the ground beside him.

     Across the parking lot, McDonald's opened for business. The restaurant's windows lit up, and the manager unlocked the doors. Fred watched as the first customer of the day scurried inside.

     Maybe I'll get a cup of coffee today... or a breakfast sandwich.

     Then he looked at the liquor store across the street, and a voice inside him laughed.

     Who are you trying to fool? said the voice. You know damn well what you really want.

     Fred shrugged and left the matter undecided. There was no point worrying about it until he had some money.

     Maybe I should go down to social services today.

     He scratched his scraggly beard and ran his fingers through his long, dirty hair.

     But I usually do so well at this spot. I'd hate for someone else to take it. Besides, social services is probably a waste of time.

     Fred sighed. How many times had he had this conversation with himself? It was like those cartoons he used to watch as a kid. The ones where a little devil pops up on one shoulder, an angel on the other, and each tries to influence the poor schmuck in the middle. That's what he felt like: the schmuck in the middle.

     "Hello, Fred," came a soft voice from behind him. It startled him, and he spun around to see who was there. Sunlight assaulted his eyes, and all he saw was a silhouette. The figure stepped closer to shield him from the sun's gaze, and a beautiful woman appeared before him.

     "How do you know my name?"

     The woman smiled. "I know a lot about you, Fred."

     She was wearing a white blouse and a light-blue skirt. A small, gold purse was slung across her shoulder. Her hair was long and blond. Her skin, tan and smooth. She had the body of an athlete. Long, lean legs. Tight waistline. Fred was certain he'd never seen her before.

     "For instance," the woman continued, "I know that three years ago you had the worst week of your life. You lost your job, the bank foreclosed on your house, and your wife left you for another man."

     "What the...? Who are you? How do you know all that?"

     "That's not important. What's important is: I'm here to help you."

     "Help me? How?"

     "By opening your eyes to the truth."

     The golden specks in her auburn eyes sparkled like glitter. Fred's curiosity was piqued. This woman was quite the conundrum.

     "Okay, I'll play along. What truth am I not seeing?"

     "That your indecision and cowardice are what brought you to this point."

     Fred was stunned. He wasn't sure what he'd expected her to say, but it wasn't that.

     "You've lived these last few years as if you were a tumbleweed, Fred. Allowing the winds of fate to blow you to-and-fro, never exercising your free will, never taking responsibility for your actions."

     Fred crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at the impudent stranger.

     "Who the hell do you think you are?"

     "How many times have you faced a difficult decision and run away from it? How many times have you taken the path of least resistance?"

     "But I�""

     "You need to accept that your present is a direct result of the choices you made in your past."

     "Are you kidding me? Listen, lady, I was dealt a crappy hand."

     "Actually, you were blessed with every advantage. But you threw your hands up in surrender every time things got tough and left your life to chance."

     Her words stung like the lash of a whip. He tried in vain to convince himself they were untrue.

     "Fortunately," she continued, "it's not too late. Your future is undetermined."

     "I have no future. My life's a s**t sandwich and it ain't gonna get any better."

     The woman shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. That's up to you."

     "And just how am I supposed to change my future?"

     "One choice at a time," she said softly.

     The woman reached into her purse and pulled something out. "Here, take this." She handed him a five-dollar bill and a handful of change. A quarter slipped through his fingers and hit the wet grass. He reached down to pick it up.

     "So, what am I supposed to do with this?" he asked, but when he looked up, the woman was gone. He jumped to his feet and looked all around. She was nowhere in sight. If it wasn't for the cash in his hand, he'd have sworn that he imagined the whole encounter.

     Now he faced a new quandary: what to do with the money. He stuffed all but the quarter into his pocket. He looked over at McDonald's, then at the liquor store. He glanced down at the quarter in his hand.

     Heads�"beer. Tails�"food.

     He tossed the coin into the air, watched it flip end over end. He caught it with his right hand, then sandwiched it between his palm and the back of his left wrist. He meant to lift his hand and look at the coin, but the conversation with the mysterious woman echoed in his mind.

     Maybe she's right. Maybe I can change.

     But excuses rushed up to greet him like an old friend.

     It's too late. I'm too far gone. I don't know how to change.

     Beads of sweat gathered on his brow. He was about to lift his hand and let fate decide his future when a still, small voice inside him whispered, "one choice at a time, Fred."

     He kept the coin concealed and looked into the heavens. He gazed at the fluffy white clouds floating in the light-blue sky. Felt the warmth of the golden sun on his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Without looking at the coin, he slipped it into his pocket and headed across the parking lot to McDonald's.

Reviews

[Kristin Lee]

What a great short story. Do I detect a hint a Lincoln City, OR written into the scenery here? You've crafted a great message and instilled it into wonderful, likeable characters. My friend Astro is right, sometimes we all do need a little slap in the face.

[Seth Durham]

Thank you for your kind review. The setting is loosely based on Crescent City, CA where I live. Hwy 101 runs right through our little town, and there is a McDonald's at 101 and M. street, but I took a little poetic license and added the liquor store across the street.

[Kristin Lee]

Ha, I'm very familiar with Hwy 101. I grew up in Port Orford, OR, not too far north of there :) Love the story.

[Rita L. Sev]

An amazing story of redemption. So true, we make our own present by our past decisions. Great descriptions - I could see this man, and this encounter, clearly. Well written, excellent theme - enjoyed this immensely!

[Baby Ricochet]

Great well written story friend. I enjoyed reading it very much.

[Jack...]

Oh the decisions we have to make in life, should we or shouldn't we. Once again Seth, you have a pen in hand that wields beautiful work. This one blew mine away. :)

[Angel]

Thank you, Jack, for sending me this RR...I LOVE this story.
As you knew that I would...;)

[Jack...]

Seth is a freind of mine from another site who just joined WC. Please do me a favor and leave the review for him as well...he is new. :)

[Angel]

Already done, my friend...I'm ahead of you for a change.