Crayon Drawing

“We’re happy with what we have, Jerry,” Tina reasoned, “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad that you enjoy your work and we can always have more things, but we’re comfortable where we are… Aren’t we?”

“’Comfortable’ is a word that people use to make themselves feel better about settling for less,” he explained, “We can have so much more. It’s a sacrifice, I know, but it’ll all be worth it.” Tina stayed in bed as Jerry put on his tie.

“Just what exactly are you sacrificing for?” she asked.

“For you and Charlie, of course,” he grunted unhappily upon seeing that his tie was uneven. “Who else would I be working so hard for?” His wife did not answer, though her doubt was made apparent through the look on her face.

That Mr. Jerry Sohl loves his family is an unquestionable truth. For five days out of the week, he gets out of bed before the sun rises and heads to work to provide for his wife, Tina, and his only child, Charlie. Lately, he has been coming home later from work. By no means does the Sohl family live the high life, but they certainly do their best to lead a happy one. Unfortunately, Mr. Sohl lacks the ability to reconcile one without the other. He has grown to be a businessman first and a family man second.

The young one is Charlie Sohl, a boy of 4 years old with sand colored hair and a precocious nature. He is just like any other four-year-old boy with one unusual exception: Charlie is an artist. While other boys are busy running about the house and getting dirt under their fingernails, Charlie can be found in a corner of the living room doodling away with his crayons. For the first time coming home, Mr. Sohl will see Charlie’s work and his interest in his son’s work will be genuine.

“What do you got there, my boy?” Jerry asked as he walked through the front door. He took off his coat and untied his tie tossing them on his chair as he squatted besides his son.

“This one is mommy,” Charlie said as he held out a picture of a woman in a yellow apron. On the caricature’s right hand, Jerry noticed a single streak of red used as one of the fingers. It was a peculiar detail that would have otherwise gone unnoticed if not for the following event.

“Ouch!” Tina exclaimed. She ran through the living room towards the bathroom sucking on a finger on her right hand dressed in a yellow apron. She came back with her finger bandaged just as indicated in Charlie’s drawing. “Oh, hi honey! I just cut myself preparing dinner. It’s nothing.”

“You two are putting me on,” Jerry answered, skeptical.

“What are you talking about?” Tina was unaffected by her husband’s disbelief. She was far too busy preparing dinner. “Dinner will be out any second, boys.”

“This one is you, daddy,” Charlie handed his father another drawing; this one of a man in a suit yelling into a phone and smiling. A speech bubble emanated from the large smile, and inside the bubble were two words: “Green! Yes!”

“Dinner’s ready!” Tina called from the kitchen door.

At the table, the Sohl men shoveled food into their hungry mouths while their eyes wandered elsewhere. Charlie scribbled away at another drawing. His father couldn’t take his eyes off his crayon based portrait.

“Are you okay, honey?” Tina asked.

“Do you know anything about this?” Jerry inquired, confounded to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“I know Charlie’s very talented. He’s always drawing pictures of everything.”

“No! I mean this!” he slid Tina’s yellow apron-clad portrait by her plate, “And this!” He showed his picture.

“Did he just draw this? I wanted to keep him from seeing all that blood on my finger.”

“Tina, he drew this before you cut your finger!”

“Are you saying that our son can tell the future?” Tina dismissed the possibility with a charming giggle.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Jerry took wiped his face with the palm of his hand, “But look at this picture of me. I’m saying, ‘Green! Yes!’”

“Is that supposed to mean anything to me?”

“No,” he reasoned, “It doesn’t mean anything to you, does it? Of course it doesn’t because I never told you about it.”

“What are you getting at, honey?”

“There’s this account that I was unsure about: the Green account. It’s a big risk, but if it’s the real deal then it could cement a promotion, the first of many to come.”

“Jerry, sweetheart,” she answered reassuringly, “You’re just stressed out. The job’s starting to get to you. All of this is just a coincidence. It’s nothing more than a drawing.”

“You’re probably right,” he replied taking a deep breath, “But wouldn’t that be something, to have a fortune-telling son?”

The sound of a spoon falling to the floor was followed by that of a chair being scooted back, away from the dining table. Charlie took his latest work of art and walked towards his father and handed it to him, smiling but with a sparkle of concern in his eyes. On the piece of paper was a picture of his father in a suit as before shaking hands with a large bald man, also dressed sharply in a suit. Jerry believed it to be his employer congratulating him on the Green account.

The next day, Mr. Sohl came home early. His tie was loosened, a bottle of champagne was in his hand and a smile was plastered across his face. Tina was in a chair quietly reading a book and Charlie, as usual, was doodling with his crayons in his corner when Jerry burst into the room. Charlie looked worriedly at his mother who was busy wondering what her husband was doing home two hours earlier than usual.

“Baby, you won’t believe it,” the cork was released with a celebratory pop from the bottle, “I closed the deal on the Green account!”

“You did it?” The corners of Tina’s mouth curled into a smile that she was trying to hide. Jerry ran to the kitchen and returned with two glasses, filling them with bubbly champagne. The two embraced and took a sip in celebration. Charlie rose to his feet and took a piece of paper and presented it to his father.

“This is all because of you, my boy! And I’m going to get you all the toys you want, send you to the best schools. We’re going to live the high life now!” Jerry took the piece of paper from Charlie’s hands and saw that it was a picture of Tina, Charlie and himself standing on the front lawn of the house. “This is great, Charlie, but I’m going to need another drawing like you made yesterday. You remember, don’t you?”

“But I want to draw happy things.”

“You can, my boy. I want you to draw nothing but happy things. But I was hoping you can draw another picture of something that hasn’t happened yet, like before.” Charlie responded by violently shaking his head, so much so that tears began to well in his eyes just before he buried his head into his mother’s dress.

“You’ve upset him,” Tina commented.

“I didn’t mean to upset him. But this is a gift; he can get anything he wants with a talent like he has.”

“Maybe this is what he wants, Jerry,” she held up the drawing of the Sohl family in front of the house, “He doesn’t need anything more than us. Charlie just wants to spend time with us, is that so wrong?”

“Of course not, but what do you think got this house, those crayons, that dress that he buried his face in just a few seconds ago?”

“I understand that,” she replied calmly. Charlie slipped away back to his corner and started coloring again, tears still streaming down his face. “But we’re happy where we are. Why can’t we just be happy where we are? You’re so busy trying to grasp at the next rung on that corporate ladder that you’ve forgotten how to just enjoy being with your family.”

Charlie stood up and handed his father a drawing on black construction paper. He had colored a single white stripe running lengthwise down the middle of sheet. Tina and Jerry looked at each other hoping to get a clue as to what it was supposed to be. Charlie hugged his father’s leg tightly, and Jerry knelt down and hugged him back. Just then, the phone rang. Jerry went to answer it.

“I understand,” he said into the receiver, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Be where as soon as you can?” Tina inquired.

“It was the office. They need to work out the details on the Green deal,” he answered.

“Can’t they do it without you?”

“They can, but this is my deal. What would it look like if I wasn’t there to see it all the way through?”

“Just tell them to put it off until tomorrow. We can have a proper celebration for your promotion. We can go out tonight.”

“That’s a good idea. We can go out tonight,” Jerry answered as he put on his coat, “But I’ll only be an hour. I’ll be coming back the usual time I’m usually home, anyway.”

“Honey,” Tina took her husband’s hand and with kindness in her eyes pleaded with him, “Just stay… Be part of the family… Please.” Jerry didn’t respond, but kissed her wife’s hand as he walked out the front door. A part of him really wanted to stay, but the rest of him urged him to go.

He noticed that he still had Charlie’s family portrait in his hands. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to convince him to turn around and stay. As Jerry got to the sidewalk, a sudden breeze snatched the crayon drawing from his hands and flew to the lawn across the street. Instinctively, he ran after it but failed to see the oncoming traffic and was struck down. The last image that he saw was that of the road where he lay prostrate. It was black and a single white stripe ran lengthwise down the middle.

“Money often costs too much”; Wise words from Ralph Waldo Emerson. A cautionary tale from a wise four year old teaches that money is merely a means to an end. The lesson comes tragically too late for Jerry Sohl whose obsession with his son’s crayon drawings was bested only by his obsession with success. Perhaps he could have saved himself if he had only heeded the words of his desperate wife to stay and be part of the family.