The busker

Yet again, Jim was alone that evening after a long day’s work. His mates had gone out on their dates. He wandered aimlessly and cursed himself for his pitiful state. He slowly made his way to the Bourke Street Mall. The after-work crowd was going in all directions. The shops blasted their sales to catch would-be shoppers. Smokers were delighted to be out in the free. Amid the hullaballoo, a female vocal pierced through and caught Jim’s attention. He stood there motionless. His fingers responded subconsciously, tapping to the rhythm. A subtle smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and curiosity erupted as he walked towards the source.

There was something about her voice. He stood there and watched her, entranced by her singing. Her voice was soothing, like a gentle breeze caressing him on a sultry evening. It was intoxicating and gripping. His body swayed in tune with the rhythm of her music.

One moment he felt happy with a grin, then he drifted off, his eyes remained still, and everything looked blurry. He would descend into darkness, to his woeful state. He hated his lack of self-confidence and his inability to develop relationships. I am such a loser. He would say to himself, biting his thumbnail. A smile would erupt as he refocused on the busker.

People were dropping coins in the hat. The tram rattled along on the rails squeaking. Mesmerised, he bent down to pick up his knapsack with a grin at the happy feeling of the glorious minutes he had spent. He casually lifted his head to have one last look at the busker.

She was staring at him and blew him a kiss!

He quickly turned around to see if it was for someone behind. No, there was no one behind him. What the hell! It tickled him dizzy in shock. His eyes opened wide in surprise. In a state of confusion and delight, he hurried to catch the waiting tram. It was definitely for me…those eyes. He remembered vividly. They looked at me…when she blew the kiss. Why, why, me? He replayed those moments again and again in the tram.

That night, he tossed and turned. He bounced between a sense of euphoria and self-doubt. He tried to visualise and paint her in his memory. He remembered her free-flowing earthy brown skirt and a beige cotton lace top suited her olive skin perfectly. And her shoulder-length black hair was let loose by the breeze dancing on her face. But above all, her melodic voice and tone still played in his mind. He wanted to see her again, to check if the flying kiss meant anything. He bit his lip to contain his excitement. Then again, she is a singer. Like all singers, they blow kisses to their fans. It means nothing. He turned around and crunched his pillow. But again, she did not blow kisses to anyone, only me. Why me? He smiled, unsure of what it meant, and slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

It had never happened to him, standing in front of the elevator and forgetting to press the button. He swiped the card and pushed open the office door. He dragged himself to his desk and slouched on the chair. His index finger took forever to reach the on button on the computer. It moved halfway and waited. Was she attracted to me because of my looks? Maybe she does this to someone every evening. The desk phone rang and shook him abruptly. He sprang into action, with one hand on the phone and the other on his computer, and stared at the flashing urgent messages on his screen.

After a while, he leaned back and ran his fingers through the gel-stiffened hair. It was soft in the interior as he twiddled his fingers through the scalp. Her hair was dark, silky, free-flowing, and danced with the breeze. Her choice of crumpled cotton clothes suited her. He tried to remember the songs she sang. He couldn’t remember the lyrics, but her magical voice invaded him all day. I wish I knew her name. I could look her up on the Internet.

He decided to go out onto the street and eat his lunch roll while walking. The sun was out. It was a bit warm, but the breeze and the shade along the sidewalk made it bearable. Most office goers seemed to be rushing for a quick lunchtime shopping. The crowd jostled as they hurried in all directions. Some juggled with food in one hand and phones in the other. He tried to observe the passers-by more closely and discretely. His brief lunchtime mission was to spot anyone with a guitar, hoping it would be her. He wondered if she had a day job, if she had a boyfriend or a fiancée, or if she was married.

Back at his desk, a beep from his computer reminded him of a new email on top of many unread emails. This one was from his boss. He frantically hurried to finish the report his boss was waiting for.

He looked at his watch. Damn. Dashed to the men’s room to splash water on his face. He stared in the mirror. His eyes were red at the edges. That was the face she looked at. What did she see there? He tried different smiles and wondered which one it was when she noticed him. The door creaked with the sound of someone entering. Jim quickly dried his hands and hurried back to his desk. He never felt so overwhelmed with his work and was always on top, but not that day when he had to deliver several reports before the afternoon deadline. He perspired. I am an idiot, such an idiot…why am I getting so bloody distracted? Come on. I need to focus.

He ran out as soon as it was time to leave work. He sprinted from the Spencer Street end of Collins Street to the Bourke Street Mall. He tried to jump up from afar to see if she was there. He noticed a small crowd from a distance. His heart fluttered as he dashed to the spot.

Oh no, it’s not her! Someone else was performing. Damn!

He began to perspire and paced the street mall to see if she was playing elsewhere. He shook his head disappointedly and returned to where he first noticed her. He stood there and visualised the magic moment from the other night. The evening breeze lightly dried the sweat on his forehead, sending a cool sensation. Her olive skin face and how she held the guitar were vivid in his memory.

He returned to that spot every day. To relive the magic moment again and again. He imagined her face and that flying kiss. But she was nowhere.

Then one day, disappointed as usual, he picked up his knapsack and dragged himself to the tram stop. Just as he was about to board the tram, he suddenly felt a thud in his heart.

That voice!

It’s her! He beamed with a huge smile.

His eyes lit up. He swung around towards the voice. There was a small crowd in the distance.

There she is! He was ecstatic, rearranged his knapsack and hurried.

He settled in a good position to see her and be seen. He tried to study her more closely. She looked gorgeous, slim, and medium height. Her hair was loose shoulder-length. She was radiant as she sang. 

She lifted her head to the small crowd and gazed from one end to the other. As she passed Jim, she momentarily paused and smiled at him. His heart went wild and thumped like the African drums. She recognised me! He knew there was something. What is it? What is it that makes her notice me? He was curious and determined to talk to her that evening.

The light wind calmed his anxieties. The cry of the children, the squeaky sounds of the passing trams, the footsteps of people walking, none of them bothered him. Crowds kept going in all directions. Some would stop momentarily to watch her, and others a bit longer. But he was captivated under her spell.

The words came from her heart and gave him goosebumps. She sang about the struggles of a single mum. About a child orphaned from the devastation of war. A family about to be evicted. And the dreams of a young girl that remained just dreams. These lyrics, delivered in perfect harmony, pierced his heart. It’s like he found a sanctuary where he was one with the others and shared their pain—it made him forget his gloom. He sat there glued to every word in her voice.

He took a deep breath and was determined to talk to her. But there were two guys next to her, helping her. Could one of them be her boyfriend? His anxiety took the better of him. People were dropping coins in the box and exchanging smiles with her. He stood there hesitant. And gave up. He didn’t want to look like a fool. He slowly turned around and walked towards the tram stop. It was like slugging a huge boulder over the hill as his heart was still back there. Oh, I am such a loser. Why haven’t I got the guts to go and say hello to her? Damn! He bit his lip and turned around to look.

She was staring at him from a distance. She waved goodbye and blew a kiss at him!

He was stunned and felt like an idiot. With a broad grin, he lifted his hand awkwardly and waved back. The two guys were still there helping her pack. His heart continued at full throttle, and his smile never stopped during the entire journey.

The next day he was determined to talk to her. He finished everything he had to do very efficiently, ahead of time. But it wasn’t time to leave yet. He kept wandering through the office corridors twiddling his fingers.

She was wearing a full-length light green cotton crumpled dress with white sleeves. Her hair was partly tucked into a bun, but the breeze gently freed each one. It made her look beautiful. She sang stories of people who struggled in life. They all had one thing in common, societal issues and resilience. He was determined to talk to her. There were many people around. I should go when she is by herself. He mustered the courage while his pulse raced wildly as he approached her.

She was busy packing, lifted her eyes and looked at him. Her light brown eyes and that beaming smile threw him off-guard.

He felt a lump in his throat but squeaked a feeble, “Hi….”

“Hey, what’s up…you seem to be in the grove. Love when I see such deep connection,” she smiled, trying to engage him.

Unsure how to respond, his mind went blank - he blurted out. “…Eh...hmm… I like your singing.”

“Gee, thanks.” She smiled and zipped her bag.

He fiddled with his fingers in the pocket and felt the sweat in his palm. “…eh...hmm…wondering…are you… playing again?”

 “Yeah, tomorrow…same time, but across the road.” Her dark silky hair bounced and swirled over her shoulder as she stood up. He couldn’t believe he was standing facing and talking to her. But his nerves got hold of him.

“Okay, see you then.”

He tried to hurry as if he had a flight to catch. She stretched forward and kissed him on the cheek.

“Would love to see you,” she whispered.

A fragrance of discrete floral scent over a perspiring feminine body caught his nostrils. His eyes remained wide open in a daze. He was euphoric. But felt like a fool for leaving in a hurry. Ah, I am such an idiot. Why couldn’t I have stayed a bit longer?

He was there promptly the next day. He waited till the end until the crowd disappeared. Unsure what would happen next. He wanted to get to know her but was scared he might build up futile hope. He stood there, several metres away, waiting. She acknowledged his presence with a smile, and he reciprocated with a discrete wave. She stared at the coins, smiled, and poured them into her pouch. As the crowd began to wane, he approached her.

“Hi…I am Jim, by the way…”

“Glad you came, Jim. I am Sara.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

Her hair splashed on his face.

“Would you like to walk with me…to the Flinders Street Station?” she asked as she tucked her bags around her shoulders.

“Sure, are you playing there as well?” he asked with an air of excitement.

“Nah, just catching a train.”

“G’dai, love,” waived a homeless man with an overripe banana in one hand.

“Hi, Tom… having a good day?” Sara reciprocated with a wave.

She seems to know several people on the street, mainly homeless people and buskers. She was very kind to them and shared some coins from her collection. He liked that in her and tried to remember the last time he gave money to a homeless person. Never. A sense of shame engulfed his face. His intrigue increased. Her life is so different from mine. Why am I attracted to her? What is it in me that she likes?

His mind and heart played havoc on him. He wasn’t sure whether it was appropriate to ask her out or wait. He wasn’t even sure if anything was happening between them. All he knew was that he was walking with her and discovering her through her gestures to the people.

“So, Sara, what do you do for a living…other than busking?”

“This is my living, Jim. This is my passion. I love to write and perform.

Of course, there is not much money in this …and I am not after money, you know.”

He nodded his head in agreement. Ah. I am so stupid for asking that. It’s the accountant in me. He cursed himself. But again, he had never met anyone in his work or friends who would say, ‘I am not after money’. He raised his eyebrows in amazement.

“Occasionally, I do odd jobs to supplement, and there are days I stare at the coins and wonder how I could get by.”

“Was this your choice or circumstance?” He was curious and tried to catch a glimpse when she responded.

“My choice,” she responded with a smile.

A smile of a passionate woman who believed she had made the right decision. His curiosity began to reach another level, and he wanted to know more. More importantly, why?

She looked at his face as they walked through the street, negotiating the crowd.

“You must think I am mad—it’s okay, that’s what my friends and family think.

“I write and sing about life. About ordinary people. Everyday life. Struggles. Challenges. Resilience. And hope. These things inspire me. I try to live that and experience what it means.”

“Amazing.”

These thoughts were always very distant to him. He had never met anyone who thinks like that.

“Okay, here we are…thanks for walking with me. If you are free tomorrow evening, why don’t we catch up for drinks at the Rainbow Bar.”

“Sure, would love to.” He responded euphorically.

After she left to catch the train, he had to sit down and process what had just happened. He walked over to the Square and settled in a corner at the steps. He was infatuated with her voice, lyrics, and looks. But her singling him out from the crowd that day had baffled him, and that moment remained imprinted. Wow, she is terrific. What a life and how different she is from my boring life. We are not compatible in any way, but what is this that brings us together? He was baffled and bewildered. His confidence had turned into intrigue, and he wanted to know more about her.

And he did over the course of several catchups.

***

Jim decided to take the long route home by walking through the park. The air was cool and crisp. It’s been a few weeks since Sara left overseas. He sat on the park bench and removed his tie, shoes and socks. He let his toes wiggle free and felt the cool air. It’s a friendship he’s never had with anyone before. A special one that has made a profound impact.

Further away along the pavement, he saw a homeless person sitting with a sign in front. He had never paid attention to a homeless person before. He positioned himself to get a full view. He tried to imagine what would have led her to this. The sign said she fled a domestic situation from afar and could not go back. Usually, he would have ignored them. Like many others, he believed they were all addicts and looked for some quick money for drugs. But Sara changed everything in him. He realised not to generalise. Each homeless person had a story. They often fled from violence, financial distress, and many more reasons. And much more that Sara would cleverly weave them into her lyrics. He stood on the grass and felt the soft, tingling, and uneven surface under the feet. He took his briefcase in one hand and his shoes in the other and took small steps. It felt different, strange, and ticklish. It was not just the feeling under his feet but in his mind. He conquered something new, something different that he’d never ever imagined.