Monopoly Man

A Story by Stefon Napier

Currently a Draft I'm revising.

Monopoly Man

Stefon Napier

His name was Brian. It was toward the latter end of my college days at Brown when the world started jabbing me in the back as if to say “It’s time to graduate idiot.”I found myself in the best little Irish pub you could ask for trying to steal as many lines of conversation as I could fit into my notebook without anyone noticing while explaining how Sonnet 116 is the work of a mad man within the confines of a sticky note. Brian’s probably 34 or two numbers ahead and I’m 21 but only because my driver’s license says so. He isn’t old enough to be 40 because he has his work shirt slung over his shoulder so all he’s got on is a damp sleeveless, thoroughbred dickies and a pair of pious work boots. He’s pretty scratchy overall but at least he’s sporting a decent crew cut. We’re talking about the Lakers for second and I can hear him just fine, except what’s weird is that it all actually matters. Not the Lakers of course, screw the Lakers; it’s this simple little conversation we’re having.

“What are you writing, math? He chuckles at his own joke and sips some more beer.”

“I’ve got no head for math but I can scratch out a decent poem when my mind permits.”

“Aiming to become famous?”

“No.”

“Good, then you’re an alright fellow, your one of us.” He laughs again and this time drains the entire glass.

“Well I hope I can do well, you know at least get published a few times, enough to make a decent living.”He shook his head.

“You’re still like the rest of us.”

“I don’t get it.”

Brian signs and leans back. There’s a tattoo under his chin “Proletarius”. He brandishes his hand and gestures around the bar. “See anyone here who looks like their trying to be famous?”

I look around. There’s an old couple chatting with bartender while beyond them a few guys are playing darts. Behind me a few kids from the college are playing bean bag toss and there is a blonde woman twirling in the corner to “Springsteen” by Eric Church. The way she spins, the whole pub ought to be spinning with her. The lights are down low yet everyone here seems to be pretty happy. The place isn’t packed at all but it feels like a warm, full stomach just the same. Brian clears his throat and continues. “All they do nowadays is teach everyone about success but never a damn thing about hope. Admit it, how many professors at that school of yours have even muttered the word hope in the same way I’m telling it to you now. Nobody seems to ask what you do if you’re not good at success. They act like there isn’t a backup plan.”

“Some people say the backup plan is the government and food stamps but I think that those people are idiots. I just want to work and when I’m not working I want to come here drink whiskey because it’s the stuff of legend you know, an inspiration. I’m inspired to do work because it means once I’m done I can come here and drink.”

That’s all”, I ask surprised that anyone could be that blunt. Brian downs another glass.

“Yeah that’s all. How many goals do you think I need? You think I want to overwhelm myself and be like some CEO who drinks instant coffee all the time instead of the real stuff and sends roses he’s never bothered to smell to his wife with a note that says “I love you” which sounds as instant as the coffee he drinks.” He snorts and waves at the bartender to send another round. “In any case I’m not that selfish.”

“I don’t quite follow.”

“Damn it, aren’t you a writer?”

“Sometimes I don’t even know but go on” I say feeling slightly stupid. The bartender slides two beers down the counter. Brain pushes one my way. “Take it, you need it”. I’m taken aback for a moment but I then I remember it’s practically a sin to refuse free beer in this era. Brian raises his to his lips and when it comes down he’s halfway done. “Careful” the bartender warns but Brian shrugs. “Come on Rick you know I’ve been downed by worse. Remember that urchin I stepped on when we went down to Florida last spring?” Rick laughed and moved to the cash register. Brian wipes his mouth and leans in closer.

“Dude there are two kinds of people in this world, the ones that live on success and the ones that live on hope. Success gets you the pent house or a villa on the beach in case you don’t like heights. Hope gets you whatever the hell it lands like you’re playing f*****g monopoly! I like you because you just want to be a decent person. You don’t need to live in a penthouse your whole life just to feel closer to heaven. You’ve got a lot of faith in life kid, that’s why you can be a writer and I can work an assembly line.”

I didn’t know what to say, he had hit me with a lot. I fiddled with a straw and imagined playing Monopoly but of course someone had already taken Boardwalk and Park place while all I had was Kentucky. Brian had the electric company and the Monopoly man was standing over him whipping him with his cane. Brian was yelling and cursing trying to get away but it wasn’t his turn so blood started coming and the Monopoly man kept battering him. I yelled out at him to stop but he kept beating the hell out of Brian. He even put on the silver boot and started stomping on him.

Stop it!!!!! STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was screaming and begging but he laughed and planted his foot on Brian’s face.

“You better roll boy and get on with it” he said. “Don’t end up like this one”.

I’m looking at Brian and he’s a mess, I wonder how he’s still alive. His eyes slowly wonder over to mine. When he speaks it’s more like a croak from a mortally wounded crow.

“Don’t roll kid, walk.”

He coughs up blood and keeps going. “Walk and let God do the rolling because that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“Brian.”

“Don’t worry about it kid I know you’ve got faith in life so just sit down and write but let God roll. “The Monopoly Man laughs. He kneels down and spits in Brian’s face. “I am God fool!”

Brian begins to roar with laughter even while coughing up more blood. The Monopoly man is turning red and ripe with anger but Brian keeps on laughing. He boils down to a chuckle and gives him a smile.“You know, I always figured you were the missing Einstein brother or something like that.”

The Monopoly man roars and starts stomping on him even more. I’m screaming and screaming and then somebody’s shaking me but I won’t stop and suddenly I hear Brian and open my eyes. I’m on the floor and the stool I was sitting on had fallen over. Brian’s kneeling over me and the Bartender was a digit away from calling 911. I had been in a dream.

“You alright kid?”

Brian looks almost stricken. I nod and he hangs his head. For a second he looks old, like life had borrowed his muscles for a really long time and hadn’t bothered to replace them when it gave them back. He opened his eyes but I couldn’t see any rebellion etched in the hollow gray. I didn’t need to really; the man wasn’t running from anything but who would? Who would at least if they could come here to this place? Underneath me the world began to pick up speed but I wasn’t really going anywhere. Brian, the twirling blonde, the bartender, the old couple, and the other college kids weren’t moving either but the pub was rolling forward and the sky was miles behind. It was like the world was stumbling but it felt alright. It was all cosmic but nobody gave a damn because tonight was about being insignificant. Success isn’t that important if you just want to live. Tonight was about the lovely luster that swirled in a glass so that conversations tasted better and made blonde women twirl. Everyone was so damn beautiful but that’s perhaps because I never noticed before.