Writing

Johnny and the City

There was once a man named Johnny who loved the city more than life itself.

Each night he lay in bed, listening to the sounds outside his window. Hurried drivers honked their horns at one another; stray cats hissed at each other in the alley; a couple shouted angrily in the apartment above. These sounds soothed Johnny and lulled him to sleep, for these were the sounds of the city.

When he woke up, he immediately drew the curtains apart, letting in what little light was not blocked by the surrounding skyscrapers. He admired the beautiful architecture—simple, tall boxes with grids of windows spanning every side. Oh, and the colors! Most were concrete gray, but Johnny could pick out a few of them that were more of a manatee gray. It truly awakened the artist in Johnny. “What a fine way to start the day,” he thought.

Johnny’s morning flew by, his excitement distracting him from the taste of his cereal and the heat of his shower. He dressed himself in a dark-colored suit—it wasn’t a light-colored suit kind of day, he thought—and set out for work, wondering about the wonders the city had in store for him today.

Visiting with his many friends as he walked to work was one of Johnny’s favorite parts of the day. Not many of Johnny’s friends knew him, but he felt like he knew them very well. He smiled and waved to the old owner of the fruit stand, who he had bought three apples from two Fridays ago. The owner shot Johnny a confused scowl, then went about their business.

“Hey! You, in the dark-colored suit,” someone called. Johnny saw that it was a homeless man, beckoning Johnny to his side of the street. Johnny went over, and the homeless man thrust an old shoe in his face. “Got any change?”

Johnny’s face lit up. “Of course, friend,” he said, relishing the opportunity to help someone in need. He fished all the change he had out of his pocket, a nickel and seven pennies, and plunked them happily into the shoe.

“That isn’t very much,” said the homeless man, disappointed.

“Sorry friend,” said Johnny, “that’s all the change I have.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to carry more,” the homeless man grumbled.

Johnny smiled in agreement. “You know, you’re right! Thanks, friend, I think I’ll do that from now on!” Johnny laughed, and continued on his way.

Johnny loved his job. He loved sitting at his desk for hours, tapping away at the thick keys, breathing the lemon scent of air freshener. He especially liked telling jokes at the water cooler. He hadn’t managed to make anyone laugh yet, but he was sure he was wearing them down.

He greeted everyone as he strode into the office building where he worked. “Hello, receptionist. Hello elevator operator. Oh, hello, Boss!” Johnny’s boss was a large man with a furrowed brow, and he lumbered like a bear in the forest. He wore a light-colored suit, which was stained dark in one large area near the collar. It was a coffee stain, Johnny was sure. As often as people had spilled coffee on him, he would know.

“Goodness, Boss,” Johnny exclaimed. “Sorry about your nice, light-colored suit. Why don’t we trade? Mine is dark-colored, you see, so coffee stains won’t show!”

“You IMBECILE,” Johnny’s boss roared. Can’t you see I am a large man? Your suit would be too tight and uncomfortable. And didn’t you get the memo that we gave that unfamiliar milkman to deliver? It is a light-colored suit kind of day. You’re all wrong—go home!”

And so, Johnny left, disappointed that he couldn’t do his job today.

“No matter,” said Johnny. “That’s just more of the day I can spend with my many friends in the city that I love.”

Johnny was feeling a bit tired now, so he sat down at a park bench with a box of crackers, deciding to just observe his many friends going about their day. A young boy begged his mother for an ice cream, a young couple sat on the grass and kissed, and the pigeons cooed softly as they pecked around for food. One of them approached Johnny, eyeing his crackers eagerly.

“My, aren’t you a pretty one,” said Johnny. “I think you deserve something.” He poured a few crumbs into his hand and bent down to give them the pigeon. Before he could, something whacked Johnny’s hand awfully hard. Johnny yelped, and the pigeon hurriedly flapped away.

“Goodness,” was all Johnny could say. The something that hit him was a nightstick, and holding it was the hand of a police officer with dark shades on.

“Whaddya think yer doin’?”

“M-my apologies, Officer! Was I doing something wrong? I checked for signs not to feed the animals. My, I quite like your shades. A pair like that would go well with my dark-colored suit, I think.”

“Yeah, I know about yer suit. Some folks complained ‘bout a fella in a dark-colored suit starin’ at people.”

Johnny laughed. “Oh, Officer. I was just visiting with my many friends. Except they seem to be a bit ill-tempered today, so I decided to just watch.”

The officer grunted. “Well, yer friends don’t want ya starin’ like a creep. I suggest ya scram, or I’ll have ta take ya in.”

The very last thing Johnny wanted was to be arrested. People who got arrested were nuisances to the city, and Johnny loved the city. So, he left.

On his way home, Johnny thought about what he would make for dinner. He was nearing his apartment building when he decided to take a shortcut through the alley. Alleys were one of Johnny’s favorite parts of the city, intriguing in their mystery and secrets. He had almost emerged from the other side when a strange man leaped out from behind a dumpster and pinned Johnny to the hard brick wall, brandishing a knife mere inches from Johnny’s nose.

“Give me all the money you got,” said the strange man.

Johnny quickly decided the strange man probably needed money more than anyone he had met so far, even the homeless man, and handed over his whole wallet. The strange man withdrew the knife, punched Johnny in the stomach, and ran away.

“Oh my,” Johnny coughed, doubled over as he tried to hold his crackers down. “What a solid punch. What a high-quality knife, as well. That poor man, I hope he gets the money he needs. He is part of the city, after all, and I love…”

Johnny sighed, hung his head, and dragged himself up to his apartment.

In the end, Johnny decided not to have dinner.

He couldn’t help but wonder why everyone was so mean. Why had his boss rejected his kindness? Why did the policeman reprimand him? Why had he been robbed outside of his apartment. He always tried to make the city a better place, so why wasn’t it? He was tired of trying so hard.

Johnny changed out of his dark-colored suit and got ready for bed. As he lay down to cry himself to sleep, he heard a knock at the door. “A visitor,” he said. “I never get visitors.”

Johnny answered the door. In the hallway stood a young, pretty woman holding a box of cookies. Johnny’s favorite kind, in fact. He wondered who they were for. “How may I help you, Miss,” Johnny asked, his sadness not diminishing his manners.

“Hello, sir,” she said. “Sorry to bother you, but I saw you come in earlier. I thought you looked sad, so I brought these for you. I hope you like them.” She held out the box of cookies for Johnny to take.

Johnny took the box of cookies with gentle hands. “Goodness, thank you,” he said. “They’re actually my favorite kind.”

“Oh, good,” the woman said excitedly. “I just wanted to do something nice. Not enough good things happen in the city, but I still love it here. Yes, I love the city.”

“Me…me too,” Johnny said. “I love the city, too.”

The young, pretty woman bid Johnny goodnight and walked back to her apartment.

Johnny enjoyed every one of the cookies. As he ate them, he thought about the young, pretty woman, and how he wanted to do something nice for her now – in fact, he wanted to do something nice for everyone he met.

Lying in bed, Johnny let himself be lulled by the cacophony of the city. The screeching of tires. The scurrying of mice in the wall. The romantic music playing in the apartment above. Some days, not enough good things happen in the city, Johnny thought. But all the more reason to be the one to do them. Johnny definitely wanted to be the one to do them.

Because Johnny loved the city.