Fiction: Art and music

Devin studied the meme which had a picture of the “Inconceivable!” villain from The Princess Bride looking sad, with the caption “When I was younger, all I thought about was music and art. Now I’m 36 and all I think about is money.” It certainly wasn’t from The Princess Bride, probably another movie. The balding man watched a subway train go by, as though he was waiting to board. At that moment, the subway pulled into the station, rushing past Devin and pushing his permed hair everywhere. If this was a movie, he thought, the shot would have cut directly from the meme to a medium close-up of him, framed in the same way.

He entered the subway car, shook the rain off his umbrella, and took his phone back out. He saw the meme again before he scrolled past it, but service cut out as the subway continued hurtling forward, so he was stuck contemplating the meme. Devin switched to his email. It seemed like there was nothing urgent, but he started reading them anyways. Then he heard someone exclaim his name. He looked up. Twenty pounds thinner, and ten shades darker than when he last saw him was Jerry, an old college friend.

“How’s it going Jerry?”

“Five years and that’s all I get? Come here,” said Jerry, pulling Devin in for an embrace.

“What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know, the same. Still doing consulting. I’ll probably make director this year.”

“Is that why you’re doing emails on the weekend?”

“This? Oh no, I just lost reception so I figured why not. What about you, what brings you into town?”

“Long story actually, but because I had an Afghan visa, they wouldn’t give let me into the Philippines, so I needed to come to Canada and see if getting a new passport would help. I’m running out of space now anyways.”

“Afghanistan? That’s nuts! How was that?”

“Devin, you have to go to Afghanistan. It’s one of the most beautiful countries in the world, with the nicest people. Crazy landscapes too: desert, forest, lakes, mountains, almost like Iceland in its variety. Plus, there are no tourists right now.”

Never in his life did Devin think about going to Afghanistan. Of course, he wanted to go everywhere when he was in college, but that’s when he was in college. After graduating, Jerry went to work in Dubai. He was what the puck bros called a grinder: not a lot of skill or talent, but he more than made up for it by the amount of effort he was willing to put into work. Who else would take a management consulting job in the United Arab Emirates? No friends, no alcohol, no work life balance.

To everyone’s surprise, he quit his job a few years ago, and started travelling. It started as a hiatus, then became a life-laugh-love adventure around the world, then he sunk fifty grand into photography equipment and started posting wild photos from exotic places. Jerry had become a freelance photographer, selling his pictures to National Geographic and entering photography competitions.

“That’s crazy! After all that, what’s your favourite spot to go to?”

“Honestly, it’s probably a super-cliché answer, but off the top of my head, it would be Mongolia. It feels like something out of this world, and the amount of untouched wilderness is unparalleled. Yet at the same time, it’s comfortable. There’s plumbing in all the cities, and most of the sights are within two days drive of an airfield of some sort.”

Jerry had pulled out his phone, and started flipping through his Mongolia pictures to Devin’s benefit. It looked like a dreamscape in a fever dream.

“Where have you been recently?”

“Oh, nowhere as exciting. I’m going to Japan this autumn with my girlfriend though. It seems like everyone is going while the exchange rate is good.”

“You have to get out there Devin. Remember why we got into this consulting racket in the first place?”

“So we could get paid, and travel without paying.”

“Yeah! But at some point, you realize that working eighty-hour weeks so you can travel twice a year isn’t worth it. Why would I do that instead of just travelling all the time, and pay my bills doing something extra?”

“Well, not all of us are such great photographers Jerry. And someone has to help companies trim the fat.”

“Life is made to be lived, my friend! I think you would be a lot happier if you weren’t wasting away at a desk job.”

“Ah, I’m pretty happy right now. I go home to my girlfriend and dog, make dinner, watch a silly television show, and go to sleep.”

The subway was loud, but the silence was deafening. Devin and Jerry looked at one another in the empty subway train on Saturday morning.

“That’s fair I guess. Where are you going?”

“I’m having lunch with my parents uptown.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I’m actually getting off at the next stop.”

“Really? Well take care Jerry, it was nice seeing you.”

“Yeah, you too Devin! Listen, we should grab drinks or something one night. I’m here until Thursday.”

“Yeah! Let me know man.”

Jerry stood up, and with a wave, he was gone through the subway doors. Denis’ desire trumped his self-control and he turned around to look out the window of the car. Jerry was nowhere to be seen on the empty platform as the train sped away. Soon, all he could see was his face starring back out at him from the darkness of the tunnels. Devin took out his phone for a little, then put it away. Suddenly he wasn’t in the mood for emails anymore. His stop wasn’t that much further anyways.

With a hissing sound, the subway doors sprang open, and Devin stepped through them himself. He found the escalator, and rode it up towards the exit.

When he popped out, he was greeted by the honking of horns and the shrieking of children laughing. The smell of grease emanated from the burger joint around the corner. The sun was finally shinning and everyone was out basking in it. What a great day, he thought to himself. And what a funny encounter with Jerry. He would have to tell Irene about this later. She would find it amusing.