Warm Jacket, Cold Heart

Ryan Ratner

World Lit. Honors

Ms. Oliver

25 April 2014

Warm Jacket, Cold Heart

The newly polished metal illuminates my face as I stare it down, attempting to read the intricate panels that look nothing like normal letters. I think it is somewhere around 3 O’clock, but how would I know; seven year olds don’t usually know Roman numerals, right? My parents said I needed to have one. They told me all the popular kids have one, but I guess I could get used to it. The other kids will probably have to as well.  Most of the kids at my school don’t bring their cool toys and clothes to school. I walk into my classroom and all the kids’ faces light up, as if I turned a switch. Even the teacher stares. I shake off the snow and strut around so my classmates can have a good look, just as I always do.

“Wow! New birthday outfit?” Jimmy guesses as I strid in his direction.

“How could I go without one?” I remarks with total honesty.

“How old is that watch? I think it has mayan symbols on it,” Jimmy concludes with awe.

“No Jimmy. These are Roman Numerals, dummy,” I state triumphantly. “My mommy and daddy like to get me nice things and this is the new style apparently.”

“Well, it looks dumb, I wish I even had a regular watch. Who needs all those fancy Roman numbers anyway?” Jimmy says quietly almost so I can’t hear.

“I guess I’m just speci-,” I got cut off by the teacher asking us to take our seats.

I stride over to my desk at the front of the classroom, as if the entire world were watching me, showing off my new look as if to say, “Yeah, that’s right”.

Class is boring and I look around the room at the front table. I feel like the boss and all my workers are reporting to me. But, finally recess comes after what felt like a million years. We head outside, and my warm, fox fur jacket keeps the onslaught of falling snow from penetrating my clothes. I look around the white blacktop waiting for the flood of kids to swarm me and my new birthday outfit, but no one comes towards me. In fact no one else is even outside. I hustle back to the door to investigate and see kids huddled in corners of hallways and classrooms with only their stupid regular jackets to protect them from the waterfall of snow that never seems to stop. I then see Jimmy and Sam in a corner next the broken heater. I jog over to talk to them.

“ Guys, lets go outside. I wanna play two square,” I demanded. “You have the ball. Right, Sam?”

“Are you crazy. How can we go outside? We could change blacktop to whitetop with the mountain of snow out there,” Sam said, now annoyed. “The two-square ball popped two days ago anyway and my mom says we can’t get another right now.”

“What, why not!” I screamed. “All I want to do is just play on my birthday!”

“Can you calm down. My mom said it was a grown up problem,” Sam spat out the words, trying obviously to contain himself.

“C’mon! I never get anything I want,” I wailed. “Why me? You get whatever you need and all I get is nothing.”

Sam and Jimmy inched farther and farther away until they reached the door and bounded through it like trained animals, and I had thrown a bone.  But the animals never come back to their master.

This wasn’t the first time I spent time alone at school. Many times this happened to me and my “so called” friends refuse to listen to me or don’t obey my commands. Like when I took Garrett’s last cookie. He still won’t talk to me and that was last year! I thought it was mine to take. It’s only a cookie, right?  He said he would forgive me if I gave him one of my mini cupcakes but I told him no way. I don’t share my food.

The other kids aren’t like me. The teachers give special privileges to me and me only. I’m always the center of attention at the lunch table. And no one wants to go outside if its raining or snowing. If you have a nice jacket, its warm and toasty. But, not if you’re alone.

BEEEP! The bell for the end of recess rings and I follow my way back to the classroom watching the groups of people chat and laugh, as I sullenly walk towards my room.

The remainder of school comes and goes quickly and I find myself quietly waiting for Jeremy to pull up in the car. Other kids whine to their teachers begging to stay inside. Why would they want to stay in the school when outside in the snow it’s so much more fun? After minutes of muted waiting Jimmy comes and sits next to me on the bench.

“Hey Jimmy,” I sighed. “Do you want to play in the snow?”

“No way man. Way too cold, and my mom doesn’t want me ruining my clothes. Not getting new ones until next month,” Jimmy replies slowly, as if he doesn’t  understand why either.

“Well, bye, anyway,” I say enthusiastically.

Jeremy pulls up with the car. The car is extra warm today, with a sweet juice box in the cup holder just for me, but it still felt cold and desolate.  I look out the window at the other kids in my class and glance around for their cars, but none appear. Down the long, icy road the window fogs up, but I can still make out the frozen faces of my classmates trudging home through the mounds of snow, just as they do everyday.  

That night, I sleep soundly in my warm bed, under my many layers, and dream of the lives that my classmates have, the life that I dream of each night.

Analysis

In my story, I am exhibiting Solzhenitsyn’s theme of how not only material things can bring happiness. Through this story, I am trying to show that even with everything material in the world, happiness can still elude someone. The main character in my book is created to be the complete contrast of all facets of Ivan. This boy is free, while Ivan is imprisoned. This boy has mountains of material goods, while Ivan only wishes to see his family. This boy shows no empathy, and Ivan has compassion and understanding, even in such a horrible place. But, Ivan is happy, and this boy is not. We can see that Ivan is happy because he becomes overjoyed over the simplest of things. Ivan is elated when Caesar gives him a measly 10 ounces of bread, but he still says “that [is] more than enough!... [This is] the way to live” (127) according to him. Although, when my character receives a brand new watch for his birthday he gloomily says, “I guess I could get used to it”.  The way that my character looks at life and lives his life completely contrasts the way Ivan does. Ivan has learned to treat good moment as if it is his last, while my character sees everything he receives as a privilege given to him. In the end of my story, my character says that he “dream[s] of the lives that [his] classmates have”. He doesn’t even know what he has, because he has nothing of what really matters. Ivan will always feel richer than him because he has what truly matters: the friendships between his inmates that will last him for the rest of his life.