The Coat That Wouldn't Come Off! by A. A. Augustine

THE COAT THAT
WOULDN’T COME OFF!
An Ebenezer’s Woods Tale by A. A. Augustine
Johnny was a rich boy. He lived on a grand old estate on the south side of town. He was
as spoiled as a sultan’s son and that’s probably much more than you or I can ever imagine it to be.
One day, the families servants were on holiday and Johnny’s mother had to send him to
the store to pick up some groceries for the evening meal.
“Now don’t talk to strangers and please don’t pick up anything else along the way. Only
to the store and home. Got it Mr.?!” Said Johnny’s mother sternly.
“Yes, ma’am, only to the store and straight home.” parroted Johnny.
“Here’s the list and five dollars and make sure you bring home all the change this time.“
His mother quipped pressing the list into Johnny’s right pocket with her right hand and rubbing his
head with her left.
So Johnny said goodbye to his mother and promised his empty promises to come right
home and not spend any of the change. He bolted right out the kitchen screen door, slamming it
behind him and lunging up to the front gate out of the estate. Johnny was lost in thought as he
briskly strutted up the street as to what goodies he would purchase with the change from the money
his mother had given him. He thought he could possibly buy a few of those caramel bars he
loved so much and eat them all before he returned home making sure he didn’t smile in front of his
mother and thus possibly giving himself away by revealing the remnants of the bar that would be
stuck to his teeth. Johnny was lost in delicious thoughts of creamy, caramel goodness as he passed
the second last corner to the left and entered the alleyway between the soda shop and the pharmacy.
There to his left, a few hundred feet up into the alleyway, he came across something he had
never witnessed in all his short, sheltered life and certainly never had seen in this part of town, or
even in this alley before. It was a man. Lying in a doorway. A strange, dirty old man. Dressed in
nasty, stained, old rags like the type the maids would clean floors with.
The site of the man shocked and scarred Johnny but also made him quite curious. He
couldn’t tell if the man had seen him or not so he eyed up the alleyway ahead and kept on his path
surveying how much speed he would need to pass the man if it looked like there was going to be
trouble.
Johnny nonchalantly slowed his pace down a bit so as not to appear nervous as he approached
the man. To be safe as he passed, he locked his eyes on the man and began moving ever
so slightly toward the opposite side of the alleyway. As Johnny moved closer though, the man suddenly
looked up making eye contact with him. Just for an instant, and ever so briefly. Johnny
flinched and quickly brought his stare immediately to the ground. But it was too late. The image
struck Johnny hard. The old man had dark, desperate eyes that immediately burned into Johnny’s
psyche but as he approached, ever closer, he kept the man in his peripheral vision. Out of the corner
of his eyes he noticed that the man was now holding out a skinny, shaky hand and began to
speak in a frail, quiet voice.
“A penny please?” begged the man desperately. “A penny, for the poor!” said the man
holding his hand out toward Johnny’s side of the alleyway.
Johnny’s fear of the man took hold of his young body and he quickly broke pace and
stepped up his speed as he passed. His fear then got the best of him and he fought back in the only
way he could think if at the time. He began hurling insults loudly at the man hoping someone was
in ear shot and would come see what all the shouting was about.
“Well, You’re a dirty old man aren’t you?” scoffed Johnny, his tiny voice sharply reverberating
along the sides of the blackened-brick alley.