Mama’s Jacket

Mama died twenty years ago when Samuel was born, she died for her son, pa hid all photos of her from his two youngest.When he died his oldest sons Allester and Raphael wanted nothing to do with him, the youngest Evelyn who was two years older than Samuel went to the funeral, she helped Samuel clean up the attic but she left a week ago to go back home to her family thirty miles away. Most of the Hirsch children left town as soon as they turned, 18, all but Samuel. He stayed behind......

As Samuel reaches the last box it gets cold in the attic despite it only being late summer. He opens the box and coughs as dust flies throughout the air,

“The hell’s in here?” he asks himself pulling old books, toys, and clothes from the box.

The last item was a nice dark purple coat, it was in still good condition. Samuel knew it wasn’t his sister’s she would never wear anything like this, he read the tag in it.

“Property of Mrs. T.E. Hirsch”

It was mama’s coat, her church coat if Samuel remembers the stories his oldest brother’s told. He wouldn’t trust them, they were money hungry both owned big businesses in huge cities thousands of miles away, they went from being poor boys roaming the streets, pickpocketing, and stealing to huge wealthy businessmen. They don’t care about anyone but themselves, they’re still the little thieves they were all those years ago.

But Samuel only had his brothers and pa to tell stories of their mama to him, Evelyn was only two when mama died. He rummages through the pockets of the coat finding nothing, he goes to throw it in the keep pile when something catches his eye. A hidden pocket stitched in, he reaches his hand into it and pulls out a necklace with a faux gold chain it had a blue stone and a folded picture.

He gently unfolds it, it was a picture of their family. Mama in the center heavily pregnant about to burst, her twin ten-year old sons next to her on the left, Allester holding two-year old, Evelyn up she clutches the teddy bear that she’ll give her newborn son in the future, lastly pa on her left. Mama and pa both had big grins on their faces, the children looked confused or bored. He never realized how much he looked like his mama, both had dirty blond hair, and icy blue eyes, they even had the same nose, and high cheek bones. He flipped the photo over,

“William J Hirsch, Theodosia E Hirsch, Allester R Hirsch, Raphael A Hirsch, Evelyn T. E Hirsch and coming soon on 12/7/1950, Samuel William Hirsch!”

It was in mama’s neat cursive writing, he held the photo to his chest, he wished he could of met her. He looked back at the picture, mama had a necklace on, he looked at the necklace in his hand it was the same one. He tucked the objects into his pocket and finished the work, he went into the kitchen and called his sister.

“Lynn?” he asks,

“...Hey, Sammy.” she replies, “What’s going on?”

“I-I, uh...um, found a picture of mama, a piece of jewelry too..it was in her church coat.”

“I thought, pa burned it all after you were born.” she whispered like Samuel wasn’t meant to hear.

“Me too..that’s when we became poor too...Can you come back down again? I really want to show it to you.” he asks softly,

“I’ll be down by tomorrow, pa’s house?”

”Yes, Lynn..Pa’s old house..don’t forget to bring your family.” he says, “God, I thought the next time I’ll see you it would be 72.” he jokes

Evelyn chuckles, “That’s only next year! But I’ll bring my husband and little Teddy. It would do them some good getting out of the house.” he could hear something crash, “Theodore!” she shouts, “Got to go Sammy, love you”

“...Love you too, Lynn.”

They hung up, he walked to the window and looked out the window, he held up the picture in the last few shreds of daylight. It was August 11, 1971, they’re mother has been dead for twenty years. The only thing left they had of their mother was an old coat, a picture, a necklace, and broken stories.

He held the picture close to his chest once again, “I’m sorry mama. I’m sorry.”

The twenty-year old, Samuel William Hirsch, sat on the sofa and fell asleep clutching the picture between his fingers, he only had more questions than answers now, and the only people left to tell him were thousands of miles away, his only keepsake of a forgotten woman that was once his mother, was an old photograph and broken stories.