The following is the script I use in my podcast for the Audio Portfolio. Throughout I will use “street noises” to convey the place I meet Storm at first. I plan to incorporate a recording of him singing throughout, as it is a very important portion of the story.
“I met Storm on an unusually cold October night three years ago. The wind whipped the hair against my face and I shivered, dancing from foot to foot keep warm, as I waited for my bus. He sat on the sidewalk behind me, underneath a crooked poster of Bob Marley hanging in the convenience store window. The lights from the store buzzed into the silence around us.
“Excuse me, miss? Do you have any spare change?”
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t,” I said barely turning to him. Immediately, I felt a sense of guilt, because I did have spare change in my pocket.
He began to sing into the windy air a song that sounded like a blues or church melody. He belted the song without shame, and as the only person on the street, I knew he sang it for me. His voice was the most painful and yet, the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. It had me crying later on the bus home. Still, I said nothing. The bus pulled up, I got on, and just as doors closed, he stopped singing and called out “Have a good night!”
I couldn’t shake his song from my mind. The next afternoon, I made the split second decision while on a bus to go find him again. The bus pulled up to the same corner and I got off, only to see that the man was not sitting at the same place. I started walking down the street and then running, hoping to spot him in a new location. I took a turn around the block and when I arrived back at my starting point, he was there again. Sitting underneath the same Bob Marley poster, arms resting on his knees. a cigarette between his fingers.
“Here’s ten dollars, you have a very beautiful voice. I’m sorry I had no money last night.” was my way of an introduction. I guess it’s because he’s met such a variety of people that he went with it and introduced himself as Storm. I was cautious with the details I gave about myself, and he was carefree with details about himself. He’d lived in every state and had spent years in Europe playing music. We became fast friends. We talked a lot about right and wrong and his belief that by trying to do the right thing would eventually him to the right place in the end. At his heart, Storm was a musician, but his last guitar stolen was from him in New York City.
The next morning, with the sleep in our eyes and the rising sun backlighting us, we met again at the same street corner. Me, with my guitar in my hand and him, with an excitement to play that I had never seen before.
I stayed with him for an hour and listened in awe. Storm had more talent playing than I could ever wish to have. He caught every passerby’s attention.
One of the scariest moments of my life was watching Storm walk down the street with one of my most prized possessions. I took it in like it was the last time I would ever see my guitar.
But Storm did right by me. A week later, he called me and told me about all the money he had made using my guitar.
“Must be the universe is trying to lead me somewhere. I met you and through you I was able to make a buck.” Storm looked tired as we sat on the couch in my apartment, “Wait, I have something for you.”
Storm pulled out a circular clear box that holds five gemstones. He carefully explained each stone to me, his favorite was the pink tourmaline for creative expression. He thought I might need it more than him.
‘I just wanted to thank you and give you something for what you’ve done for me. Don’t lose them.”
Storm stayed on my couch that night and left the next morning on a bus to New York and although he friended me on facebook, we never spoke again. I still carry around the stones he gave me. I found out a month ago that Storm passed away during his travels at age 31. I cried because all I could remember was the guy with moppy brown hair belting out a song on a sidewalk for me. I hoped in the end that he got to the place the universe wanted him to be.”