The Sunshine Man

This is a little late in the day getting posted. I had to go to my parents after work, about an hour's drive away from my place. I needed to fix my mom's computer. I took my son and daughter with me. While we were there, she brought out a half full bag of pretzels and offered us some. We said no thanks, to which she said, "Oh ok, I thought I'd offer them to you because I want to use them up before they go stale. They're the ones I opened just before Christmas." Wow, five month old pretzels. Thanks mom. Anyways, I am home now, and not poisoned by a pretzel. Here is an interesting short story I threw together for you!

The Sunshine Man

The night was cool, paralleled with heavy darkness. The sunshine man stepped out of his house onto the black pavement of his driveway. It was time to bring the light.  

The sunshine man’s name was a direct contradiction to his appearance. He wore a long, black coat which was almost cassock like, black shoes, gloves and hat. His car, a sixty seven Eldorado, was also black. It suited him well, but yet the sunshine man hated the color black. 

He cruised down the road like a shadow slipping along over the tarmac. Before long, he was on his way from the middle class suburbs and entering the city limits. He had to bring the light. As he drove, he sang low to himself in an off key, husky voice, 

“I’m the sunshine man, 

bring the light the only way I can. 

I’m the sunshine man. 

Sunshine man. 

Can’t you see the light? 

KABLAM!” 

The sunshine man knew he was going to change the world, today like every day he was needed to; going to bring light where once was darkness. He drove along calmly, his car standing out amongst the common cars parked by the side of the road. It was early still, dark at this time, and even here in the city still and quiet yet with few people up and about. 

The sunshine man was happy. It would be a good day he told himself. He laughed aloud as he sat at a red light next to a blonde mid-fortyish woman. She was taking advantage of the ripened, red traffic beacon to light a cigarette. She flashed him a look, nervous, eyes narrowing. As the light flashed back to green, he quickly flipped her the bird and continued on. 

The city streets ran in every direction, but the sunshine man knew them well. This was his playground, and soon he came to where he chose to be today. No tall buildings here,only run down houses from the nineteen fifties, scruffy yards, surrounded by leaning chain link fencing. Wrought iron gated doors and sidewalks littered with old bottles and bits of cardboard and other trash. A homeless man shuffled on, pushing a grocery cart full of belongings.  

The sunshine man scanned his face as he slowed and coasted by, looking to see if this was the one. The one that would help him bring the light. Not the woman at the light though, and not this man. 

He rounded a corner and saw ahead on the sidewalk a man. The man on the sidewalk was Seth Philip Dykeman. He was not alone. The woman on her knees in front of Seth was his wife. As one fist grabbed her hair, fingers intertwining, twisting roughly, the other fist beat Mrs. Dykeman in the face, then the side of her head. She saw nothing and all she heard was blind ringing. The sunshine man pulled the car to the curb and stepped out. He lived for this. 

The sunshine man stood on the curb, watching until Seth in his drunkenness finally noticed him. Somewhere in the back alleys of his mind he knew he was doing the wrong thing. But the booze gave him confidence. Cowardice disguised as confidence to be a monster to his wife when she wanted the drinking to stop and spoke up. Liquid courage to get pissed at the man in black looking at him. That serene face, smiling made him want to plow his fist into it.  

“Hey man, what the fuck is your problem? You get your rocks off watching this shit or what?” 

The sunshine man took a step forward, calmly with no change of expression. This was the man. This sad man, with no significance that caused pain for no good reason, like his own father had done in the sunshine man’s youth. This was the man. The one chosen to bring the light today. 

The sunshine man spoke first, his hand reaching into his coat pulling forth his gun, “Allow me to bring you the light.” 

Now the gun spoke, “KABLAM!” 

Then twice more in rapid succession. Even before Seth hit the ground, the sunshine man had driven off.  The woman knelt still, sprayed by some of Seth, ringing louder in her head, screaming, pain, left behind by her husband bits of her hair still clenched in his frozen fist and the imprint of his ring on the side of bruised face. 

The sacrificed man had seen the light. The light was coming; coming with the new day just  brightening  the skyline. It could come now. The sunshine man laughed on his way back home. 

“KABLAM!” he shouted, grinning large, and slapped the steering wheel with his gloved hand, happy for another sunny day.