Street Sleeper

Johnny De Morgan’s pick strummed delicately across his guitar strings and created a heavenly lullaby for those walking the streets at night. He too could feel the heaviness of his eyelids and the quicksand-like pull underneath his body. Yet he continued to strum his beautiful melodies as the snow gently poured into his guitar case, barely a single gold coin occupying this space. Strangers walked by with their chins tucked into their chests, not giving Johnny the slightest glance.

The night sky blanketed the city in midnight shadows. Johnny wished he too had a blanket of some kind, but all that kept him minimally warm was his checkered overcoat, striped scarf, and thin layers underneath. He struggled to keep his fingers steady in this shiver-inducing weather. Sometimes his melodies would echo awkwardly across the street corner because of his shaking. Johnny stopped playing and gripped the neck of his guitar like he was actually strangling someone. He held the instrument above his head like he was going to smash the fucking thing to pieces.

“Johnny, no!” shouted a feminine voice off to the side. The busker’s eyes must have been too frosty to notice her at first, but that beautiful voice could have only belonged to the elven rogue Debra Lynch. Light green skin, thick layers of black wool, wavy blue hair, and a cap over her scalp: she was unmistakable at this point. She had the same weary and sorrowful expression in her damp eyes that Johnny did. That made her even more beautiful (not that Johnny would ever tell her something like that).

“Johnny, you can’t give up yet. You’ll freeze to death out here if you don’t keep playing,” begged Debra.

“I don’t know, Debra,” said Johnny with his head hung low. “Does it really matter anymore how good I am with this stupid thing? Nobody’s paying attention. Everybody just wants to walk on by like I’m some sort of fucking monster. Forget it, Debra, I’m done with this shit.”

“So what would you rather do? Starve to death?” pleaded Debra while cupping her hands over Johnny’s arm. “You don’t have a choice in the matter. It’s either this or death. Wait a minute…you’re not actually considering…” The elf’s voice grew shaky with those last few words.

“Like you said, Debbie-Cakes: I don’t have a choice in the matter,” said Johnny with more coldness than the snowflakes pounding down on him. “I can stand out here and freeze like a motherfucker playing for pennies…or I can just fall asleep in my own shallow grave. Never have to wake up again. Never have to deal with these ignorant people. Never have to worry about where my next meal’s coming from. Sounds like heaven to me.”

Debra smacked Johnny in the back of his head and messed up his black puffy hairdo. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk about that nonsense again! If you just fuck off the face of this earth, what am I supposed to do for the rest of my life? I need you, Johnny. We need each other!”

Tears welled up in Johnny’s frosty eyes as he said, “Sorry, I’m just a little frustrated, that’s all. God, what I wouldn’t do for a hot bowl of soup and a fucking blanket! Is that too much to ask for?!”

The argument came to an abrupt end when Johnny and Debra’s eyes zeroed in on a heavyset orc strutting down the streets. His leather armor, bloody war paint, and gigantic sword sheathed on his back gave him the aura of an undisputed champion. The burdensome sack of gold coins on his belt caused Johnny and Debra to snap awake with secretive excitement. Johnny strummed his guitar much more vigorously than before in hopes that the rock and roll music would entice this brutish warrior.

The orc attempted to skate on by, but Johnny and Debra blocked his path with the biggest of grins. Debra even rubbed her gloved fingers together to signify what she and her friend wanted. “Fuck off and die!” shouted the beastly warrior as he shoved Johnny into a row of rubbish bins.

“Hey!” belted Debra. “Who the hell do you think you are pushing a defenseless man like that?!” When the orc refused to listen, the elf grabbed him by the thick wrist and jerked him over for attention. “I’m talking to you, you gigantic sack of shit!”

“Debra, wait!” pleaded Johnny as he picked himself and his guitar off the ground. “That’s Link Rotunda! He’s a cage fighting champion! You’re not going to get any gold from him by calling him a sack of shit! Show some respect!”

Link’s rotten grin coincided with Debra’s fiery glare as the orc said, “That’s better! That’s what I like to see: people taking initiative!” He pointed his sausage index finger at Debra and said, “You could learn something from a guy like him!” The elf hmphed and folded her arms, never releasing her death stare from the gigantic bully. “Now then, where were we? Ah yes! You want some of this gold, sonny boy? You want to eat tonight? You’re going to have to earn it! Forget that stupid hipster guitar! You’re going to dance for your supper!”

“He will do no such thing!” grunted Debra before being held at bay by Link’s massive arm.

“What do you say, you sweet little boy? Are you going to dance or what?” asked Link with a devilish smirk. Despite Debra’s angry protests, Johnny tossed aside his guitar and danced around like a monkey attempting ballet. Link’s throaty laughter caused Debra to hold her face in her hands in sheer embarrassment. “Good one, good one! Now put the garbage can on your head! Do it, monkey boy!”

Sure enough, Johnny heaved a garbage can over himself and danced around some more, Debra shaking her head the entire time and Link laughing it up with a few knee slaps to boot. “How am I doing, Mr. Rotunda?”

“Oh, you’re doing great, my friend! You’re going to be a rich motherfucker in no time at all! Just one more thing and you’ll have all the gold you want! Take off that silly garbage can…and suck my dick!”

The monkey dancing was replaced with a frozen stillness and silent weeping underneath the garbage can. He slowly pulled off the bin and revealed an expression full of shock and despondency. “Is that what you really want, Mr. Rotunda? I’ll do it if that’s what you want.”

“This is bullshit!” shouted Debra as she picked up the fallen rubbish bin and tossed it at Link.

The orc slashed it in half with one wave of his newly unsheathed sword. Garbage scattered across the ground and blew away in the winter breeze. Johnny silently asked Debra what the fuck she was doing and elf stood her ground with clenched fists and a raw attitude.

Meanwhile, Link just laughed it off and said, “I guess you don’t really want hot soup after all. It’s a shame, because I could have given you more soup in that one BJ than any restaurant. It’s saltier too! And tastier! Or so I’ve been told!” Link sheathed his sword, waved goodbye, and chuckled, “Keep saving up!” He turned heel and strutted away until the nighttime shadows covered him completely.

Johnny’s cheeks quivered and his eyes cascaded as he struggled to say, “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? He was our meal ticket!”

Debra’s angry breathing intensified to where this winter weather could be confused for a boiling summertime hell. She grabbed Johnny by his overcoat and shoved him against a brick wall. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” raged the elf. “Do you really think he was going to pay you all that money to humiliate yourself like that? Bullshit, he would have disappeared like a fart in the wind! I know you’re a homeless man looking for change, but you should never have to lower yourself like that just for a half ass chance at getting paid! I don’t care if Link Rotunda is the champion of the fucking universe! He’s a bully first and a humanitarian last! How do you think he wins so many of those fights?!”

Johnny snorted loose snot up his nose and swallowed before sobbing, “I’ll take a small chance of getting paid over no chance any day of the week.”

Debra slammed Johnny back first against the wall and raised her fist in the air as though she was ready to knock a few teeth loose. “I should turn that fucking face of yours inside out for saying shit like that! I should rip your brains out through your eye sockets and eat that for dinner instead of some poor man’s soup!”

Johnny De Morgan could feel his insides turning into jelly and his bladder and bowels loosening while anticipating the stinging fist that would eventually shatter his skull into snowflakes. The tension in his stomach made him ill. His skin turned pasty white. He shook harder than when he was struggling for warmth.

And then Debra said, “I’ve got a better idea than that” before showering her victim with a handful of golden coins. Johnny could finally breathe a heavy sigh of relief like a whirlwind of seething pain coming out of his mouth. His elf compatriot brushed his checkerboard coat off and said, “The only way you’ll ever eat with me tonight is if you never pull that shit again. You’re my best friend. I hate seeing you in pain like that. Link was never going to give you those gold coins, so I snatched them from him while he was busy laughing like a fucking hyena.”

Johnny and Debra embraced one another and gave their bodies enough warmth to last through two more winters. It wasn’t just physical warmth that Johnny felt throughout his body. It was that special warm fuzzy feeling of knowing his best friend had his back through thick and thin (even if she did scare the shit out of him). Johnny could picture the bowl of soup sliding down his throat and soothing his frosty wounds. Broccoli cheddar soup from a garlic bread bowl. Thank you, Mr. Rotunda. Thank you so much!