Dragonfly by Jaxn Hill

The green coat made Torstein look like a dragonfly. It was that kind of green. And he was light on his feet, almost dancing when he walked ... he shimmered. It wasn’t so much what he said that captured people’s attention, because usually he didn’t say much at all. It was more just the way he was. He was like a flame, a green flame, and some people were drawn to him like moths. I was, Maggie was, my brother was. Little Sully never had a chance. He was devoted to Torstein almost from the first handful of seeds.

But the Big Guy? His immediate response had been that snarled, “Get a job!”

It sounded rude, but Torstein wasn’t put off at all. He said, “I’m surprised anyone with a job like yours would tell me to get a job!”

Then it hit me: we knew this Big Guy. It was Bruiser, one of the Big Guys who collected protection money for Nikolai, the Russian mobster who terrorized the legitimate business owners and ran the illegitimate businesses around here. Yah, Bruiser had shaken my old man down every week for a few bucks. For protection. My dad used to own the fish market. He’d given it to me and my brother, and we’d sold it. But I still remembered Bruiser.

The Big Guy, Bruiser, I thought he’d just pound Torstein into the pavement there on the spot. After all, Torstein was quick and light on his feet, but big he was not. He wasn’t any taller than me, and slighter. Bruiser could have laid him out with one sucker punch, easy. But he just said, “Everybody’s gotta make a living,” as if he had to justify himself to the nut-job on the street offering everyone sunflower seeds! I was floored.

Torstein said, “I don’t make a living. And yet, here I am, living. Care to join me?”

And the Big Guy, he reached out and took a handful of sunflower seeds. And he laughed. Torstein laughed, too, and did a little two-step around the guy. That about killed me — crazy man in the green coat dancing around ol’ Bruiser the collections man.

But that was Torstein’s Irresistible Charm. Some people couldn’t say no to him. Not that my brother and I had tried very hard. We’d first run into him the day we signed the papers to sell the fish market. It had been bought by a big gourmet food chain that wanted the great storefront space for merchandise, and wanted access to our dad’s vendors of fresh fish. The ocean was just 20 miles away, and our dad knew all the old fishing families from when he used to fish. He’d always had the best seafood in his market.

So my brother and I had been ready to celebrate. We thought we’d done remarkably well on the sale. That day, Torstein didn’t have any sunflower seeds. He’d just been standing on the street when we came out of the broker’s office; almost like he was waiting for us, though we’d never seen him before.

We thought, like the Big Guy, that he was panhandling.

He said, “Looks like a party, boys!”

My brother said, “Heck yah it’s a party!” and he pulled $10 out of his wallet and handed it to Torstein. We were feeling generous.

But Torstein just smiled and gave it back, saying, “I’m not that cheaply bought. Where are we headed?’

My brother, still thinking Torstein was a beggar, started laughing and said, “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.” My brother, he was a tough guy — what he valued in himself and prized in others was daring and fearlessness. He was one of those guys who had a good brain if he’d use it, but often preferred to settle things with his fists if that’s what it took. He was impressed that somebody he thought was a beggar was turning down money and inviting himself to party with us. He figured Torstein must be as fearless as he was.

So we took him out to party with us. We’d been following him since then ... or not really following him anywhere, because he hardly every went anywhere except for a few city blocks around where we’d met him.

Every now and then, someone else seemed to see in Torstein what we saw in him, and they’d start coming around, too, a couple of days a week, or every day for a week straight, and soon they’d just be part of the crowd. We didn’t do anything but watch him dancing with his sunflower seeds or listen to him tell a story ...

... but somehow it seemed important. Apparently, to Bruiser it seemed important, too. He stopped doing his collections. I guess Nikolai got someone else to take over for him, but he wasn’t happy about it. He sent some other thugs to talk to Torstein, but Bruiser got in the way and told them unless they’d come there for sunflower seeds, they ought to go right back the way they came.

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