Herman (standard:other, 2797 words) [1/4] show all parts
Author: Jim Spence	Updated: Sep 09 2003	Views/Reads: 3356/2550	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
All Herman ever wanted to do was make a difference ...

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Suddenly, Herman realized that he didn't hear the bird anymore. 
Instead, he heard the sounds of screeching tires and broken glass.  As 
he turned, he saw that a car had leapt the curb and crashed into the 
bus stop bench where just moments before he, and the old lady, were 
sitting. 

“Huh” thought Herman, “you don't see that every day.” 

****************** 

The subway was crowded.  Herman rarely rode the subway.  There was just
something about all of those people, running to and fro, going 
somewhere – when Herman always felt like he was going nowhere. 

Herman jostled his way through the crowd to catch the E line uptown.  It
arrived, and the crowd all tried to move at once.  It seemed to Herman 
that everyone was going to get on and leave him behind, so Herman 
forced his way forward, straining to get onto a car that was already 
too crowded to take another person.  He heard the chimes as he squirmed 
into the car, and heard the doors begin to shut ... and stop with his 
briefcase caught in the middle.  Pull as he might, it wouldn't budge.  
It, and the doors, were stuck.  It seemed that a hundred people sighed 
in disbelief at Herman's plight.  “This isn't the difference I wanted 
to make” thought Herman, as he struggled in vain to free his briefcase. 


The conductor on this particular subway was an old man; perhaps too old
to be where he was.  He saw the alarm go off, telling him that one of 
the doors hadn't shut, and he was going to have to get out and find the 
problem.  As he moved to open his door, he felt the first pangs in his 
chest.  Without warning, it was over.  His old heart had finally 
stopped ... and if not for Herman's briefcase, he, and 1000 passengers, 
would have been hurtling down the tracks at 50 miles an hour when it 
did. 

When they finally freed his briefcase from the door, Herman saw the
commotion on the platform.  Paramedics and policemen were crowding 
around the lead car ... it seems as if there was some sort of 
emergency. 

“Huh” thought Herman, “you don't see that every day.” 

****************** 

They had planned this bank robbery for months.  They knew what day of
the month the payroll checks were to be cashed, what time of day was 
the least busy, and how many guards they could expect. 

The three of them walked up, having left their car parked right in front
of the bank the day before to make their get away easier.  One sat in 
the car, while the other two entered the bank.  Being a nice day, the 
driver rolled down the windows, just to enjoy the breeze. 

Herman was already late for work, but he didn't care.  He stopped by a
side walk vendor to get a coffee and a danish before walking into his 
ordinary office building and starting his ordinary day. 

Herman placed his now battered brief case on the edge of a trash can,
and placed his coffee and danish on top of it as he fumbled for change 
to pay the vendor.  As he reached into his pants for some change, he 
realized that he had a hole in his pocket, and the coins were slipping 
down his pants leg. Twisting to reach with both hands for his coins, 
Herman accidentally bumped into his brief case, spilling his coffee 
into the open window of the car sitting right in front of the bank. 

The driver, soaked in hot coffee, starting yelling and threw open his
door, immediately into the path of a taxi cab ... which ripped the door 
from its hinges and made the driver forget, for the moment, about the 
hot coffee in his lap. 

As Herman walked away from the street vendor, with another cup of coffee
(that he argued he'd never gotten in the first place) and his danish, 
he turned and looked at all of the commotion going on in front of the 
bank; the cab driver fighting with some enraged man, the police pulling 
up, the two men in ski masks who appeared out of nowhere in handcuffs. 

“Huh” thought Herman, “you don't see that every day.” 

****************** 

Herman was very late when he finally arrived at his office.  Between
missing his bus, having to wait for another subway conductor, and 
arguing with the street vendor over his cup of coffee, his ordinary day 
had already become quite more ordinary than ever. 

“At least I can enjoy my coffee in peace” though Herman, and so he
tried.  But as he leaned back in his chair to take his first sip of 
coffee, his chair broke, throwing him, and the hot coffee, backwards. 

Herman landed on the floor.  His coffee landed on the shirt and tie of
the man sitting next to him in his ordinary office. 

“Now look what you've done, Herman!” screamed the man “my wife paid $50
for this tie ... now I have to wear a clip on.” 

Off he stormed to change into a clean shirt, and put on his clip on tie.
 Herman had a thought ... somehow a clip on tie seemed so ordinary, 
too. 

Herman didn't hear the commotion until he walked out of his office with
the remains of his coffee.  He glanced to his right and saw that his 
co-worker, now wearing a clean but somewhat wrinkled shirt, had gotten 
his clip on tie caught in the door of an elevator, then yanked from his 
neck as the elevator plunged down ... taking the tie with it. 

A crowd of people mulled about, telling him how lucky he was that he'd
worn a clip on tie that day. 

“Huh” thought Herman, “you don't see that every day.” 

****************** 

The morning passed as all mornings do.  Except for missing his bus,
being delayed in the subway, the commotion in front of the bank, and 
spilling the coffee that he had had to argue to get, it was just 
another ordinary morning. 

Herman ate at the same ordinary café every day at lunch.  He ordered the
same ordinary meal, from the same ordinary waitress, cooked by the same 
ordinary cook. 

To the cook, however, today was not an ordinary day.  His daughter was
pregnant, his wife was leaving him, and the bank was going to foreclose 
on his café ... the same café that was taking every nickel and dime he 
had to keep open, with it's fractured fixtures and it's leaking pipes; 
this same café that had a million dollars worth of insurance, but had 
no guarantee of being anything other than ordinary.  The cook didn't 
notice the leaking sink behind him, anymore than he noticed the leaking 
gas line.  He was too caught up in how un-ordinary his life was to 
notice anything. 

Today, for some reason, Herman's ordinary meal wasn't as ordinary as
usual ... in fact, it was down right terrible.  Herman thought about 
it.  There is no reason to accept this un-ordinary meal on such an 
ordinary day, so he complained.  Yes, Herman complained.  “I won't 
stand for it” he said defiantly, to anyone that would listen; “I want 
to see the cook.” 

And out he came, the cook, on this day of all days to be un-ordinary. 
On this day when nothing was ordinary anymore, the cook had had enough. 
And he was going to take it out on Herman. 

“Wait” said Herman, “all I wanted to do was complain about my meal” but
the cook would have none of that, and he drug Herman outside by the tie 
on which he'd spent so much time the night before picking out. 

The waitress ran outside behind them, stunned that such an ordinary day
would turn so un-ordinary.  And then, just as the cook was about to 
explain to Herman why today was not an ordinary day ... the leaking gas 
line in the kitchen decided to be quite ordinary itself.  It burst, 
spewing gas onto a hot grill full of ordinary food and ordinary dreams, 
and exploded in a ball of fire in a quite un-ordinary fashion. 

Outside, the waitress, the cook and Herman watched in amazement.  The
waitress thought “well, there goes my ordinary day”, the cook thought 
of nothing more than his million dollar investment, and Herman thought 
“huh, you don't see that every day.” 

****************** 

When Bill woke up that morning, he'd made up his mind.  After having a
life so full of promise - the high school quarterback, marrying the 
head cheerleader, idolized by all – it turns out that he had nothing.  
His hair, and his cheerleader, had left him years ago.  His blood 
pressure rose as his stock portfolio dropped.  He saw no other way out. 
 Today was the day he would kill himself.  Yes, today would not be just 
another ordinary day. 

“How to do it”, he thought; “I know ... I'll jump off the tallest
building in the city.” 

So, off he went. 

He passed by the bus stop that was minus a bench, down the street past
the bank with the yellow police tape, towards a crowd of fire trucks 
and smoke, when he passed Herman. 

“Herman?” he asked, “is that actually you?” 

Herman stopped and stared.  How typical of his ordinary day.  It was
Bill, the school hero, and bully, standing right before him. 

Herman could remember those days.  They were never ordinary.  Bill had
been his worst nightmare.  From throwing him naked into the girl's 
showers, to setting his books on fire, Bill had made sure that Herman 
would never have an ordinary day as long as he was around. 

Herman could tell by the look on his face that Bill remembered, too. 
Bill suddenly smiled, remembering those days ... not from any 
recollections of what he'd done to Herman, but from the feeling that 
comes with being who he was ... Mister Popularity.  Bill looked at 
Herman, and in a rush of memories, realized that no matter how bad off 
he was, there was always somebody worse.  And, today, it was Herman. 

Bill laughed out loud, kissed Herman on the cheek, ran through traffic
waving and smiling at each driver he met, and disappeared into the 
crowd, to live another day. 

“Huh” thought Herman, “you don't see that every day.” 

****************** 

Mick was having a lousy day, not at all ordinary.  He'd gotten out of
the dispatch office late, and didn't pick up his first fare until 
almost nine (well past the morning's business rush and its tips); that 
damned fool idiot had opened his door this morning and Mick had ripped 
it off its hinges; the ensuing fight; and the then ensuing time spent 
figuring out the mess. 

Yes, it wasn't an ordinary day for Mick.  Maybe the next fare would be
the tip he was waiting for all day. 

For Herman, the ending of another ordinary day at work meant the trip
back to his third story walk up.  Today, Herman decided to take a cab 
home.  The overcrowded bus and the overcrowded subway didn't appeal to 
him. 

Mick picked Herman up and looked him over.  “This isn't my big tip” he
thought, “this is just an ordinary guy.” 

Herman gave him the address and then settled back for an ordinary ride
home. 

They reached Herman's walkup, and Herman got out.  As he reached in his
pants for some money, he again remembered the hole in his pocket.  This 
time the coins tumbled down his pants leg and onto the street 
underneath the cab. 

Herman fell to his knees, trying to retrieve the money he'd dropped. 
Mick knew that this ordinary man would not be his big tip, and he was 
in a hurry to pick up another fare, so he got out to help Herman 
retrieve his money. 

Money gathered, fare paid, Herman gave the cabbie a five dollar bill for
a tip.  “After all” Herman thought, “this was an un-ordinary thing for 
a cabbie to do.  I should pay him for his time.” 

Mick didn't even notice.  He was late getting out this morning, he was
delayed with the police, he was in a hurry to pick up another fare. 

But, before he could pull away from the curb, an un-ordinary thing
happened.  Ahead, at the stop light directly in front of Mick, a fire 
truck, perhaps on its way to a burning café, smashed into a taxi cab 
... but it wasn't Mick's cab. 

“Huh” thought Herman, “you don't see that every day.” 

****************** 

And so ended another ordinary day for Herman.  He picked out his tie for
tomorrow, sewed the hole in his pocket, and repaired his fractured 
briefcase. 

When Herman laid his head on his pillow, his final thought was “how
ordinary today was” ... and as he drifted off to sleep, he dreamed of 
someday making a difference. 


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