Sean Rodan April 17, 2012

The Musician
There was a restaurant in West Chicago. The restaurant was too small and always noisy with silverware and chatter. The chairs were wooden and worn and the tables rocked back and forth and were too low. The lights on the ceiling were very bright and made the restaurant glow through the big glass window into the dark street outside. A man in a black shirt and jeans was sitting alone on a table next to the big glass window. He stared at the empty chair across from him. The waiter came to the man's table. The man looked up. "Good evening, sir. What would you like to order?" "Do you have any wines here?" the man asked. "No, sorry sir, only beers." "How about a Guinness?" "We're out of those, I'm afraid." "Okay, what kinds of beers do you have?" "We have Heineken, Budweiser, Coors Light, Bud Light " "I'll take a Bud Light." "Would you like me to bring two glasses and two cans?" "Yes, please." "I'll be back in a few." The waiter left. The man turned his head to look outside the window. The sidewalk was filled with people in a hurry to go somewhere. Behind the people the man saw a narrow street glazed with water from the rain. Then the man saw a woman

Sean Rodan April 17, 2012 in a blue coat from the opposite side crossing the street towards the restaurant. She walked briskly with her arms folded. The woman opened the door into the restaurant and looked around. The man waved at her. The woman's eyes looked around the restaurant and saw his hand. She walked to the man's table and sat down in the empty chair. "Sorry, work ran late," the woman said. "Oh, I see," the man replied. The man and woman sat there for a few moments without a word. The waiter returned to the table. "Ah, good timing. Here's Bud Light for the both of you." The waiter placed the two Bud Light cans and two small glasses on the table. "Thank you," said the man. The waiter, from having served many patrons, knew that the two were not here to eat, but to talk. He quickly left the table. The woman looked at the can in front of her. "Thanks for the drink, but I don't drink anymore." She gently pushed the can away from her. The man nodded. "Well, how are you? We haven't seen each other face to face since" "Tired. Why did you ask me to come here?" asked the woman. "I've always wanted to come to this place. My apartment is right across the street, and the light that comes from the restaurant always shines into my room."

Sean Rodan April 17, 2012 "I would find that pretty irritating if I were you." "No, it's a neat thing because the light makes patterns sometimes when it shines into the room and onto the wall. The light keeps me awake into the morning, even after my gigs." "I could never live there. I need my sleep." "Yes, I know you do. I was your alarm clock, remember?" "Oh yeah," she grinned. "You were always so hard to drag out of bed. Especially after we had a gig the night before." "Yes, I know. It seems like ages ago, doesn't it?" "Yeah." "I've sort of left those memories behind." The woman was staring at the street outside. "I understand." The man opened his beer can and carefully poured the beer into the glass. The beer suds went right up to the rim but did not go over. The man watched the suds settle down. Then he slowly raised the glass and drank without spilling a drop. "How's the kid doing?" "He just turned five last week." "His name is Jake, right?" "Yes," she replied. "You know, when he was younger, he used to look more like me. At least, that's what people have been telling me. But as he gets

Sean Rodan April 17, 2012 older, I think he's beginning to look more like his father." The woman was looking down at her lap. "Is there any chance I can see him tonight?" "I don't know if he should see you." "Why not?" "I actually haven't told Jake much about you at all. He's never asked me." "Haven't I been sending cards through the mail?" "Yes, I've been getting those, but I hid them in the drawer. I don't think now is the right time to explain everything. He's too young and he won't understand." "Yes, I get all of that. But I still want to see him before I leave." "You're leaving?" There was a brief pause. "Well, that's why I wanted to see you. I'm flying away tomorrow." "Really? To where?" "New York." "Why move now?" "I just feel like I need a fresh start. The last few years have been difficult for me." "You think they haven't been difficult for me too?" "It's not just that Chicago's just getting too old for me. I've been playing for the same people, the same places. It's become sort of a bore."

Sean Rodan April 17, 2012 "At least you have the luxury to move around. Have you found a place to play?" "I called a couple of buddies of mine. They've got a place for me to stay, some place in Greenwich Village. They've already hooked me up with a couple of gigs nearby with some pretty important players." "Well, I hope you're happy." "But I want to see Jake." "I think it would be too early for him to see you. I don't know how Jake will take it." The man knew at this point it would be pointless to argue any further. He had to accept that he was never going to see him. The man thanked the woman for her time, wished her luck, and left the restaurant. The man slowly walked across the busy street, got out his key, and entered the apartment building where he lived. The lobby was very dim and hollow, and the walls were a beige color. Not a sound could be heard of the busy street outside. As he walked up the stairs, the sound of his steps echoed throughout the hallway. When he got to the correct floor, he entered his room, which now only had a bed, a suitcase, and his saxophone. Then he looked outside his window and saw the restaurant that shined brightly into his room. The table was empty.

Sean Rodan April 17, 2012

Reflection
In this story I tried my hand at emulating the style of Hemingway's writing and the themes that Hemingway introduces into his stories. One of the major themes that Hemingway deals with in his stories is the idea of ambiguity. For instance in the story "Hills Like White Elephants," the dialogue between the man and the woman does not explicitly mention the word abortion; we can only determine what the two are talking about by looking carefully at the tone of the characters and making inferences from what is being said. Similarly, in my story, it is not made clear what happened in the past between the man and the woman. However, from understanding the lines, the reader can see that this is a broken relationship and that the man and a woman had a child together. Also there is a sense of moral ambiguity; the reader can't say who the "good guy" or the "bad guy" is. For example, although the story suggests that the man broke up the relationship, we can't totally blame him for wanting to pursue music or for wanting to see his son once. Is the woman's decision not to let the man see his son the right thing to do? Then there is Hemingway's Code Hero, which always plays an important role in Hemingway's short stories. There are specific aspects about the Code Hero that I incorporate into the man in my story. For instance, the Code Hero likes to drink alcohol, but he is a clean and disciplined drinker. The man in the story pours his alcohol cleanly and drinks cleanly too. Also the Code Hero is very good at his craft and is a man of action. The man in the story is an active musician, fitting the Code Hero model. The Code Hero must not be able to sleep at night, and this is shown by the fact that the man likes how the restaurant lights shine into his room. Related to this idea is the idea of "nada" nothingness that the Code Hero must constantly face. At the very end of

Sean Rodan April 17, 2012 the story, the reader sees how the man has to get home everyday, presumably after a gig. The imagery of the lobby "beige," "hollow," "quiet" show the emptiness that he is reminded of each time he returns to his apartment. In a sense, the man in my story is not completely a Code Hero because he feels a sense of attachment towards another person, the boy. It is only when he realizes that seeing the boy was impossible that he has to let go with this attachment that he is closer to the image of the ideal Code Hero. Also I tried to imitate Hemingway's style. One of Hemingway's characteristic traits is brevity. His sentences tend to be concise, saying no more that he actually needs to. He keeps details if they are important and he leaves details out if they are unnecessary. His word choice and grammatical structure are simple. Also the narrator is very objective and tries to stay out of the thoughts of the characters as much as possible. In this fashion, I used sentences in the narration like "A man in a black shirt and jeans was sitting alone on a table next to the big glass window." Another stylistic trait of Hemingway is the extensive use of dialogue. Like Hemingway's stories, my story has a lot of dialogue between the man and the woman. I thought that imitating Hemingway's style was not too difficult as long as I avoided long-winded sentences or subjective explanations. What was more difficult was finding a subject matter that could maintain ambiguity while highlighting the Code Hero.