Sasta

• David Thorpe, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2010

“Does anybody have any requests?” asked the old man in the middle of the mall. I was sitting in the cafe only metres away from him.
He was wearing a very jovial outfit and a smile, for which the first time in a long time, I think was actually genuine.
I think that’s why I payed attention. I was the only one.
With him, he had an accordion.
Accordions seem to have that magical sound that makes you know you are being performed to.
“How about a few Irish sounds?” He asked to no one in particular.
It was a mid June morning, so most people had no intention of braving the cold for some shopping.
The man broke into a tune so fast and lively that an unexpected laugh rushed out of my mouth, splattering tiny bits of muffin on the table.
The Busker stopped immediately and turned around to face me with a quizzical look on his face.
“Does my music make you...laugh?”
“I’m sorry; it’s just that you are so cheery when this day is so cold and damp.”
With a smugish grin he replied.
“No weather can stop me from having joy in my music. When I play, I simply think about the sunshine that’s hiding up there. It’s just too shy to show its self today.”
I couldn’t believe people like this still lived.
“At my age, you have to be optimistic about every passing day,...”
“...cause you never know which will be your last?” I guessed.
Without turning away he undid his accordion strap.
He slowly bent down and placed the accordion back into his case and shut it gently.
Still bent over his case, he said quietly.
“Your last? Where is the optimism in that?
Is optimism and joy a thing of the past now?
Did it stay behind while the world moved on?”
And with that he picked up his accordion case and lugged it away without another word.
I was shocked that I offended the old man. I was so bewildered at what he said that I didn’t even think of getting up and going after him to apologize. I simply sat there staring at my half drunken coffee.
My coffee tasted bitter.
The next day was much like the last, so I took a chance and went back to the same cafe at the exact same time.
I even ordered the same muffin and coffee, for the hope that the same man would come back.
I didn’t even notice the waiter bring out the tray with my purchase, but as I went to grab a hold of my muffin, my fingers grasped an envelope.
I opened it carefully, not knowing or even wanting to think what was inside.
I had to read it at least ten times before it made sense to me.
‘At my age, you have to be optimistic about every passing day, because you don’t know whose day you will brighten.’
I swear the sun shone through.