Man With Roses

• Ava Stephens, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2010

‘I’m sorry but you just haven’t got it, you know, the zing of a good musician,’ said the crusty old man doing an air guitar impersonation of some famous rock band. ‘I just can’t give you a record deal, you know, times like this when money grows legs and runs back to the ‘60s, you know man?’
I nod, quickly replacing my notes and guitar in the case as I have so many times before.
‘Here, you can have these; some girl left them for me.’
He threw a bouquet of white roses to me but I can’t catch them so they fall to the ground. I thought, maybe that says something, maybe that’s me in these changing times, trying to survive but I always fall two cents short of a dollar.

My mind was exhausted by rejection as I sat on the old stone steps. Perhaps the record dealers were right, maybe I should stop trying to sell myself and just live, although it’s the quickest way I know to get money, although maybe it’s not that quick, it hasn’t been working very well for the last four years. I stop thinking for a while and close my eyes, there is music playing that fills my head with memories of a childhood not so long ago. My guitar slips into my fingers and I gently strum the tune of an old, powerful song that hasn’t been played in a long, long time. A subtle force made me stand, with the roses in the case on my back, and follow the sound. I walked with my eyes closed into the chilly night, following the song. Tyres screech, abuse is shouted and dogs howl but the song plays on and I play with it.

When the sun rose I found myself on the outskirts of the city. A young woman with long matted hair and grimy skin, sat under a tree, creating the song, on a familiar, worn harmonica. Her expression was sad and broken until she looked up and saw me.

“Noah!” she screamed with the look of a joy-filled child. She ran towards me and we embraced each other. ‘Lucy,’ I murmured. We didn’t talk but instead, together we played glorious, adventurous tunes of our childhood and songs of our lives so far. The silence was beautiful as we laughed, played more music and feasted on mangoes that fell at our feet.