Chief Jimbob

Chief Jimbob by Dean Carroll

It was a bitterly cold January morning when Jimmy Forsyth trudged his way to the jobcentre to sign on. Christmas had come and gone, and all Jimmy had to look forward to, was a flutter at the bookies and then a couple of pints in the local.
Arriving outside the dole office he saw the same old faces, but they were still strangers to him, barely beyond acknowledging each other.
Looking inside the office, he could see the staff sat cosily behind their desks hugging mugs of tea and coffee, waiting for the deluge of riff-raff to pour in.
After waiting ten minutes one of the staff bothered to open the door to the frozen stragglers and they entered nursing frozen feet and got into an orderly queue.
Jimmy stared dreamily around the office, wishing he was somewhere else, missing the attention of the benefits officer.
"Next!" she said more abruptly, catching the attention of Jimmy, shaking him from his daydream.
Jimmy sat down as the secretary typed in his details, inputting his national insurance number like he was a cold statistic. His job history came up on the screen.
"I see you have been out of employment for over six months Mr Forsyth," she said. "Is that correct?"
Jimmy had nothing to say and nodded meekly.
"If that's the case, we have a placement in sales for six weeks. Would you take up the offer of unpaid work Mr Forsyth?" she asked.
"What if I don't?" he asked
She stared at him rather coldly "Mr Forsyth if you don't take up this opportunity of work, we have no option but to suspend your benefits." She explained.
Jimmy grumbled under his breath
"So how about it?" she smiled.
Jimmy gulped, realising he was up against a wall. He had to accept the placement.
Smiling snootily she gave Jimmy a slip of paper with the details of the company he was placed at, telling him to be at the shop for nine O'clock in the morning.
Realising today was his last day of freedom he made his way to his local to drown his sorrows.

Entering the vault in the Red Lion, Jimmy greeted his fellow regulars and ordered a pint from Michelle the young barmaid.
He sat down with Ben his close drinking partner and threw the slip of paper at him in indignation. Ben examined the paper and laughed.
"So you're entering the rat race Jim-Bob" he guffawed, passing the slip around to the fellow drinkers who casually stared at it, giggling at Jimmy.
"Make the most of your liberty" said Ben as he made his way to the bar. "You're dry as a bone for the next six weeks Jimmy lad" he laughed. "Don't worry! me and the lads will give you moral support."
Jimmy could only look back at him, his outlook gloomy.


The weather was the repeat of the previous morning-cold and miserable, when Jimmy left the confines of his mother's cosy terrace at eight O'clock to catch the 162 into Lyndham.
Dressed in a threadbare chequered suit, that his mother insisted on him wearing, Jimmy felt like a clown as he walked to the bus stop.
Huddled under a bus shelter, Jimmy waited with a party of schoolgirls who were busy texting each other on their phones, screaming loudly at one another's replies.
Sat down was a pensioner in her eighties taking up the seat in the bus shelter holding a tartan shopping trolley on high alert waiting attentively.
After a miserable twenty minute wait the bus arrived and the schoolgirls poured on pointing their bus passes in the drivers face, before they scrambled wildly upstairs.
Allowing the old lady onto the bus, he politely assisted her onto the bus with her trolley, only to be met with a piercing stare.
"Do I look like an imbecile?" she glowered at Jimmy, dragging the trolley aggressively on board. Jimmy could only look on downtrodden, his spirits even lower.
Paying the bus driver his 1.40 fare he retreated upstairs hoping to sneak a smoke on his half an hour journey, but the top deck was filled with obnoxious kids either throwing paper at each other or tagging the walls with felt tip pens.
Enduring the noise, Jimmy was relieved when the bus stopped at the local comprehensive and the motley crew spilled off the bus, leaving a few people left, all thankful for a bit of peace. Jimmy looked longingly out of the window, the rain pouring down the glass in rivulets like tears.


It still poured down when the bus pulled into Lyndham station at quarter to nine. Dragging himself from his thoughts he bounded down the stairs, out of the bus, ready for a roll up.
Standing under an awning, Jimmy attempted to mould a line of tobacco into a cigarette paper while the rain poured in torrents. Shaping the paper into what loosely resembled a roll up. He stuck the soggy cigarette in his mouth and attempted to light it. Flicking the wheel of the lighter, he tried to spark a flame, but as he finally created a spark, he dropped it on the floor landing in a puddle.
Cursing he picked it up and wafted the lighter about to remove the rainwater, but it was a waste of time. Dropping the roll-up and lighter in a bin, he frustratingly made his way to work.
Reaching the shopping centre, he looked for a map to find where Daphne's was situated, but the shop wasn't signposted. Consulting his watch, he hurriedly asked around, desperate to find the shop. Finally given useful directions, Jimmy finally made his way to the store. Looking meekly around, he asked a young shop assistant to see the manager.
Surveying the store, it looked like a bordello, and it smelt like one. Lines and lines of perfume and cosmetics displayed like a tarts dressing table.
Jimmy followed the young girl into the back of the shop and down a short corridor, where she stopped at a door quietly rapping on it.
"Come in!" came a booming reply.
Jimmy entered a rather spacious office, where a well attired hatchet faced woman stared at her watch, as if telling the time was a newly acquired skill.
"You're late!" she barked, showing the Jimmy a seat by a deeply polished desk. The young shop assistant wisely closed the door and made it back into the shop.
Sitting down the old woman perused over Jimmy's dishevelled appearance and sighed, before introducing herself.
"My names Daphne Urquart" said the sour faced manageress rather snootily.
Jimmy smiled and offered his hand, which the woman refused, busily looking through Jimmy's details, shaking her head occasionally, Jimmy felt more downbeat, the longer he remained in the sour old trout's company. Having seen enough she placed the detail sheet on the desk and turned to Jimmy.
"I understand Mr Forsyth you were previously employed in sales" she said managing a smile. Jimmy nodded meekly.
"Well we have a job right up your street" she said licking her lips. Jimmy listened on.
"Have you heard of Injun Joe soap Mr Forsyth?" she asked. Jimmy recalled the advert on telly, with the American Indian taking a bath in a tepee, using the product.
"The soap that lathers into a lava?" he quoted recalling the adverts sound bite.
"Yes! Mr Forsyth. We have a six week position promoting the product in the arndale complex. Are you interested?" she asked, her cold eyes staring at the subdued Jimmy.
Jimmy with no option but to accept the position, meekly nodded.
"That's settled" she said. Getting up from her chair she walked over to a large wardrobe in the corner. Opening it with a key Jimmy saw an array of brightly coloured costumes inside.
"What size are you?" she asked the puzzled Jimmy.
" Extra- large" he replied.
Urquart pulled out a suede yellow Indian outfit and a pair of moccasins. Attached to the coat hanger, hung a cheap looking American Indian head dress. Jimmy stared at the outfit.
"I didn't know I had to dress up for the job?" he said with a hint of dread.
"Sure! Jimmy, you have to dress up to sell the product." She said with a hint of glee. "Now go to the changing room and get changed."
With his tail between his legs Jimmy followed Miss Urquart to a small room filled with boxes. Meekly he was left to undress.
Ten minutes later he reappeared dressed in his costume, the cheap Indian pants making his legs itch. He knocked on Miss Urquarts door.
Jimmy entered the office to the ecstatic looking manageress.
"You look just the part." She giggled. Jimmy felt a proper charlie.
"Now do your performance Mr Forsyth" she said. Jimmy looked dumfounded.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Your rain dance of course. Come on show me." She said irately.
Jimmy was becoming to feel increasingly humiliated. Half -heartedly he did a slight shuffling on his feet, Urquart shook her head in consternation.
" No! No!No!, come on put a bit of effort into it man." She barked." Do a bit of jumping and hollering."
Jimmy jumped around and hollered with his hand like a stereotyped Indian chief. Inside he felt like curling up and dying.
"That's better." She smiled contentedly. She then left the office escorting Jimmy to the pitch in the shopping complex, to sell the soap.
While he followed her, he listened to the employment guidelines. He was to work from half past eight in the morning to five in the evening with a half hour lunch break and he was allowed a ten minute fag break once in the morning and afternoon. Jimmy asked her if he was getting paid.
"Mr Forsyth you will get reimbursed for your bus fare and you will be given a five pound luncheon voucher, other than that you will continue to get your benefits from the D.S.S."
Seething at her lack of charity, Jimmy followed her to a plot in a busy part of the complex, where a wigwam was perched surrounded by a table stacked with Injun Joe soap. Standing at the table was a sickly looking woman dressed as a squaw, chewing on a piece of gum and looking disinterestedly around the centre.
"Now sell some soap Mr Forsyth." Urquart said sternly, leaving Jimmy with the young girl, before walking off.
"Sour old trout ain't she!" said the thin looking girl chewing incessantly, as Urquart walked off. Jimmy smiled in acknowledgment.
"Hi I'm Marsha" she said shaking his hand, Jimmy introduced himself
"So you been sent here by the dole have you?" she asked
Jimmy nodded and Marsha gave a cackling laugh.
"You've been the fourth person sent here in two weeks" she said cracking her chewing gum. Jimmy looked at her dumbfounded.
"So why are you here?" he asked.
"I got thrown here Jim. Some bitch from probation threatened to put me inside if I didn't find some kind of work that would keep me out of trouble, so I've got to do this line of crap" she said acidly.
Jim looked self -consciously at a series of pinprick scars on her arm, and could imagine the kind of world Marsha lived in. Not judging her, the pair then stood bored looking while the shoppers fleeted past them, not bothering to give the pitch a second look.


At ten O'clock Urquart visited the stall and saw the bored look on the couples faces. Asking how many bars of soap had been sold, Jimmy and Marsha looked dumbly at each other.
"You mean to say you've not sold one bar." She said rather vexed. Marsha shrugged her shoulders, looking plainly at Miss Urquart.
"Come on! Show a bit of enthusiasm the both of you" she said, Jimmy and Marsha looked glumly at her.
Urquart sighed at the pair. "I'll show you how it's done."
Grabbing a few bars of soap off the table, she accosted the shoppers in the mall.
"Scrub up with Injun Joe, only fifty pence a bar" she called, thrusting the soap bar in their faces. "Come on smell the aroma, would you freshen up with Injun Joe" Urquart shouted. Unable to take no more embarrassment, some shoppers bought a few bars from her only to get away from this frightful woman. Finally getting the message, Jimmy and Marsha were inspired enough to drum up trade.
"Come on and grab an Injun" Jimmy shouted, he began to gain the shoppers attention. Soon the money was rolling in, and Jimmy was beginning to enjoy his morning, leaving the pair to sell on their own, Urquart retired back to the shop.


By half past eleven Jimmy and Marsha had sold half the stock, and felt like having a break. Going into the tepee to have a sly smoke, Jimmy rolled a cigarette, having done without all morning. Watching Marsha spark what looked like a large rollup, the tent was soon filled with an aromatic smell. Realising what she was smoking, Jimmy coughed in fits.
"You can't smoke Cannabis in here?" he coughed, Marsha smiled and lay back.
"Who can't? Jimmy boy. Got to have my elevenses" she guffawed.
Jimmy shook his head in shock, but was beginning to feel laid back and giddy on the fumes. Marsha had packed the spliff up with skunk, and soon the fumes dissipated from the tepee out into the crowded shopping mall, drawing curious sniffing from the elderly and laughs of recognition from the teenagers. Marsha began to have withdrawal symptoms, and had no way of paying her dealer. Seeing Jimmy fall asleep stonily from the fumes, she noticed the bulging money tin in the corner of the tent.

*---*---*

Miss Urquart emerged from the shop at half past twelve to relieve Marsha and Jimmy for lunch and collect the morning takings. As she approached the sales pitch, she saw a gang of teenagers making off with a box of soap. Running after the group they turned and fled. Livid she stormed up to the unmanned stall.
Looking into the tepee, she saw Jimmy sprawled out inside, snoring loudly, she stared coldly down at him.
"Mr Forsyth!" she called quietly down to him. Jimmy wriggled around in his sleep. Urquart crept up to him "Mr Forsyth!" she barked in his ear. Jimmy shot up in an instant.
Jimmy looked around and sheepishly stared up at the acid stare of Daphne Urquart.
"Thank you Mr Forsyth" she called. "Do you mind telling me where Miss Stubbs is?" She enquired calmly. "And why on earth you are sleeping on the job." She roared.
Jimmy looked around at an empty tepee and an empty money tin. Smiling bashfully he looked into the ice cold eyes of Urquart and shrugged his shoulders.


The police believed Jimmy's explanation about the theft, and released him. Not before Urquart had her pound of flesh.
"You suit the costume Mr Forsyth. So much so that you can keep it" she said sourly. "You can collect your clothes tomorrow." She said. Jimmy looked down at himself and reddened, looking pleadingly back at her. Urquart dismissed him "I will be notifying the benefits service about your conduct Mr Forsyth" she said coldly as Jimmy plodded off. "Good day."

Jimmy caught the bus home, downtrodden and wet from the rain. Still dressed in his Injun Joe costume he drew heckles from teenagers, furthering his worsening mood.
At his bus stop, Jimmy climbed off the 162 and sloped off back home. As he walked dejectedly to his mother's house, he saw Ben and his boozing pals walking in the opposite direction. Swallowing nervously, Ben saw Jimmy in his costume.
"Hey it's chief Jim-Bob" Ben laughed running up to him, Jimmy stared sheepishly at him. He looked back at his mates who were all giggling.
"I told you whose fault it is, why it's always pissing down. Jimmy here's been doing too many rain dances." he laughed. Ben then ran around hollering loudly, much to the amusement of the group, Jimmy looked down in embarrassment.
"Oh Piss off!" barked Jimmy, opening the door to his mothers. Ben and his crew went off laughing all the way to the Red Lion.

That night Jimmy in his usual routine went off to the pub. After a swift telling off from his mother who told him to get a job or pack his bags, opened the door to the vault and was instantly assailed by a wail of whoops and hollering from the regulars. At the bar Ben stood looking at Jimmy who grinned shaking his head.
"Get the chief a firewater Mary." Ben said to the landlady. Jimmy laughed madly and shrugged off the day.

THE END

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