Rupert Hawthorne was waiting for the bus when a stranger approached him.
He had a grubby look to him, as if he hadn’t seen a shower or a proper bed in years. Rupert wondered if the man had a home or a family. When he saw Rupert looking at him, he walked over.
“Spare change?” he said.
Rupert shook his head. “Sorry man, have to save it for coffee.”
“I could go for a coffee.” The man said.
Not sure how to respond, Rupert said nothing and turned around, went into the Starbucks and came back out with a coffee. Handing it to the homeless man, Rupert tried not to notice the smile that lit up the mans face. It transformed him.
Taking a sip, the man smacked his lips. “That hits the spot. Thank you.”
Rupert said nothing but waved away the thanks with a hand.
“No,” the guy said. “Really thank you. Most people just tell me to fuck off.”
Rupert said he hoped this wasn’t so.
The man shook his head. “It is. It’s the way it is. People just walk on by telling me to get a job. Don’t they think I’ve tried that?”
He reached out and touched Rupert on the wrist. “Let me give you something in return.” He said.
“No, that’s not necessary.”
“I insist.” The homeless man said. “You gave me your coffee money. Now this isn’t much, but it’s something I’ve been working on. Do you like country music?”
Rupert shrugged. “It’s alright.”
“Alright then. Here goes.”
He took a deep breath and then opened his mouth, letting out a deep and rich voice that surprised Rupert. “When I was young, I had lots of fun. But as I’ve gotten older, the fun is slower. But when I stop and see your face, you set my life back into pace.”
He paused. “The words need a bit of work, but the melody is there.” He said.
Rupert was pretty sure he had never had a more bizarre experience or heard something so beautiful. “Thank you,” he said.
“Don’t mention it.” The man said. “You make sure to have a good day now.”
As the homeless man walked away, Rupert watched him go. He wondered at the idea of beauty and what was beautiful. He looked down at his fancy suit and his expensive watch and though they were beautiful. At least they had been when he had put them on this morning.
Now the leather of his shoes seemed lacklustre and dull. The sheen of his suit seemed oily instead of gorgeous. Taking a moment to take in the world around him, Rupert wondered about the idea of Beauty.
A man leaned down and kissed a woman’s cheek, making her laugh into the air. A woman held her sons hand as they walked across the crosswalk, the little boys legs moving like pistons. He saw a man hand a woman a small bouquet of flowers, and though there were no words exchanged between them, the look said it all.
All of this was beautiful, to Rupert’s mind. He continued on to work, which was not beautiful. Everyone was so concerned with filling up every moment, with working too hard, with working themselves to the bone.
As he neared his office, he saw a stall filled with plants. His legs seemed to be carrying him towards the stall and he had picked out and paid for a small African Violet plant before he quite knew what he was doing.
The woman who had sold him the plant smiled at him. “They like music.” She said.
Rupert looked at her. “I’m sorry?”
“Music. Plants like it if you sing and talk to them. They like talking but they LOVE music. African Violet’s especially.”
“Huh.” Rupert said. He took his change and his plant and continued on his way towards the office.
Once there, he went through the lobby and up the elevator to his floor. When he got to his cubicle, he was struck by how grey everything was. He hated grey. He put the plant on his desk and looked at it for a moment.
“Music huh?”
He looked around him to make sure that no one else was there. Then he let the music inside of him out, where it wanted to be free.
“When I was young, I had lots of fun. But as I’ve gotten older, the fun is slower. But when I stop and see your face, you set my life back into pace.”
When eh was done, he looked at the plant. He wasn’t completely sure, but it certainly looked happier. Humming, he turned on his computer and prepared to greet the day.
It was only once the afternoon rolled around that Rupert realized he was happier than he had been in a long time. And all it took was the gift of one song.
“Huh.” Rupert said.
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