The blade was chipped away jagged , it scratched across the sidewalk pavement , hilt held by tape that was put around it years ago for some forgotten reason. Our Hero drags his feet across concrete , the soles of his shoes eaten through by years of travel , barely scraping by. The dark red scarf that dripped from his shoulders was a marvel of fabric and hand made artistry , the envy of kings , courts and jesters , but no longer so. Now , this divine accessory , stitched by angels , hangs from itself , limp and wrinkled , stained and torn , frayed and smelly. Our hero still presents it to the world at the same value he was offered ten years ago. No one bothers to correct him.
His hands were large and boxy , with arms and torso thin. A walking skeleton with a pile of worn dish rags for clothing , wooden sandals and a belt of hemp rope. His white beard was a month in , about the time he took to the razor for a shave up.
Our Hero plopped onto a loose legged wooden bar stool , with a crash to the hard black brick flooring and a spread of shattered beer mugs scattered in all directions. The other patrons looked into their own mugs , desperate to stay out of Our Hero’s attention by any means.
He had a reputation that talked ears off and made little sense most of the time , just sober enough to not die of alcohol poisoning. The bartender wiped the counter with a quick flick of the dirty rag , and dropped a fresh mug of beer down in Our Hero’s place at the bar.
The barkeep was a man of about five feet and 10 inches in height , in his high 50’s and well fed , with a deep grown red beard.
Our Hero mumbled to himself , face smashed into the stone floor , a small rock wedged between the two front teeth on top.
“On yer feet , Hero. The drink cries for your embrace.”
“Leave me be , foul dealer of death. What man would sell poison to his neighbors face with a smile?”
“The same man that let’s your sorry ass sleep in the garage. The same man that picks your ragged ass up from that very floor. The same goddamn man that runs a bar almost entirely off of you , Our dear Hero.”
“Enough of this nonsense , dealer , lift me to my chair for I can partake in your swill and take it out of the hands of innocents , the kinds ain’t smart to your devilry. I pity their souls , and more so the fact that they take joy in their own murder , unknowing. A cruelest fate…”
“On your feet Hero! The drink grows impatient and goes flat while you bicker over the quality of your ale. The ale you drink every night before you give the same speech. Save your stories Hero , tonight there are no ears unbeaten by your tales. By this time , everyone in the country should know how you changed your name at 18 to Our Hero . Everyone knows about the dragons in Malasia with skin of diamonds and breathe to scorch even Satan himself. We have all heard the tale of your trips to the kings wife’s chambers for tryst after tryst to be discovered one night by the king himself. How you popped him square in the nose. How he loved your boldness so much that he just laughed and let you walk out. Save it , Hero. And take up your mighty gauntlet , drink to save the innocent children who may wander by and get corrupted by opportunity , to come in and swipe the glasses undrunk and run off into the night to rape and burn and murder and rob. For the sake of us all , Hero , drink.”
Our Hero flipped over onto his back and took a deep breathe before lunging forward to stand himself up , landing on his face a second time.
“HERO!”
He shoved his arms forward , half a push-up , and managed to wobble himself up into his chair and steady his balance.
“Yes my good man , a drink , to my , your health , our health and everyone in here.”
Grabbing his mug he spun around to raise the glass to everyone in the bar , only to slip off and end up on the floor a third time , the mug scattered along the floor.
“Dammit Hero , how many fookin glasses are you gonna break? I’m gonna have to start charging you extra on account of the mugs.”
Our Hero raised an arm with index finger extended for a brief few seconds and let it drop.
“For fucks sake Hero , get it together.”
“I am in need of women , dealer , fetch me a sign of true divinity , an angel of mercy , an assassin of the heart. A woman to swell my breast to burst so I can die in her arms. , happy as any mortal man can possibly be.”
“I’ll fetch your woman when you fetch the coin.”
“My coin is good , dealer. Of what position do you belong to question my wealth? A mere dealer of toxins , a seller of lies and passions. You fool , I could buy this hole if I want. I leave it because I care about your wife and daughters and sons and dogs. I won’t see a gentleman out in the cold , no sir , especially not with his family. Not so long as I am Our Hero!”
“Ok Hero , you are passed done. You know the drill. I’ll send the wife in to bring soup and beer. Now go on , you’ve bothered enough tonight. Besides , I know it and you know it , I ain’t got no fookin dogs and kids.”
Our Hero was hoisted over the barkeeps shoulder like a rag doll and carried off to be tossed into a pile of hay in the corner. It was here that Our Hero spent most his nights , drifting in and out of his own reality , the world in which he truly belonged. His stories and tales were all true , all there , every night. By the mornings , Our Hero woke with the impression of being in a dream and treated his days as attentive as any nightmare. His consciousness was shaken from a deep drift and back into the world , to a hot bowl of chicken soup and a half loaf of bread , along with a giant bucket of beer and a small white porcelain coffee cup placed inside , the handle broken off long ago.
His nightly diet , courtesy of the bartender.