O~o~O

"Boy, I tell ya. This city…"

He breathed in the air, gasoline and humid cigarette smoke settling against the walls of his lungs. The sky was dark. At least the power outage was finally over. The wet pavement glittered in the dying sodium lights.

His suit was getting wet. He had been sitting there in the rain for so long, he was sure the suit would be ruined by the time he found the urge to stand again. Across from him, high up in the dull night, the sign posted to the billboard flapped in the biting wind. A retro print of the Jumpman.

And so many people walked right past him. Nobody gave any mind to the giant poster about to rip itself from the zip ties. Nobody even spared a glance to him, sitting alone on the darkest bench on the brightest street. The neon lights flashed and scattered into the roads. A grimy mirror to the world above. Heels clicked along the concrete, hurrying to get out of the rain. Others moseyed past, unbothered with their umbrellas. Black shields that protected them from heaven's tears. Downcast eyes that protected them from strangers.

He wondered what it was like to be the Jumpman. He didn't think anyone would just walk past him, right? Then again, the Jumpman couldn't possible find himself sitting all alone on a rainy night. Surely he had somewhere to go home to, people that loved him and cared enough to warm him up so he wouldn't catch a cold.

When he was a kid, he had dreamed of being a hero, of standing up to wrongdoers to deliver them justice. He had collected every single Jumpman comic, and had seen all the movies. Somewhere in his closet were all the silly drawings he made. And his Jumpman card collection. He had practiced jumping as a kid in the hopes that he could one day reach the heights of his very own hero, who once bounded through the very streets he looked upon. Every night, he dreamed of wonderful fantasies where he could leap across buildings and over flaming barrels, just like the Jumpman.

Now, where was he? All of those fantasies had faded into resignation to mediocrity. He grew up. He went to school. All his action figures were put away to collect dust, just like his imagination. His head was no longer filled with color and laughter. No, just numbers and sales and taxes and bills and rent and insurance and security codes and passwords and retirement budgets. Where had he gone? He had lost himself somewhere along the way, or something like that. Watching the Jumpman poster in the wind, he was filled with a vague sense of the wonder that once drove him. When he tried to focus on it, it was gone. Just like the light had been gone all week. The light was lost, all rainy and stormy and generally depressing.

His kid self would be horrified to learn of what became of his adult self, but he didn't really want to think too hard about that. He had never wanted to grow up. And yet, now, he was as grown up as they come. What about all those dreams? All those silly stories he spun in his sleep? What happened?

"What happened to you?" he asked himself, out loud. No one looked his way. A couple of taxis drove past, spraying him with the murky water in their wake. He had once been so full of life. Now, the color in his eyes had faded due to the blue light. The world around him was gray.

What happened was simple. He found a job. He lived on his own. He waved at his neighbors. He had a few friends from school who he called on occasion. He ate lunch with his coworkers in awkward silence. He was just a normal guy. An ordinary New Donker.

There was a woman who he had taken a fancy for at work. She was as graceful as she was sharp. He had been trying to work up the nerve to speak with her and ask her out on a date to the rooftop cafe. For weeks, he had been trying to psyche himself up, planning what he would say and how he would say it.

And now he never would. His job had been going steady up until about that afternoon. The notice had been left on his desk that he was laid off. Something about needing to downsize to preserve the budget. But he knew that couldn't have been the whole story. That new temp had been bringing in a lot of sales, more than he had. Of course she had. She was young and pretty, and she had a way with her voice that could convince anyone that they absolutely needed to drop everything to buy their paper clips, right now, this goddamned minute. How could he compete?

He shook his head. He didn't know how he was going to pay rent. "This city. You know, sometimes, this city. It just…" he gritted his teeth and let out a shaky breath. He slowly took off his hat, turning it over in his hand. It tumbled out of his numb grasp, and landed in a puddle. "It just chews you up sometimes. And then it just spits you back out. You know? Spits ya right back out." The rain picked up a little, and he could feel his hair getting damp. He kept his dull eyes fixed on his hat in the road.

"It sure does." a voice agreed.

The poster of the Jumpman thrashed in the wind. The New Donker looked up to see that there wasn't a soul around him, save for one, standing right in the middle of the road.

Dumbfounded, he said the first thing that came to his head. "Geez, man. I thought I had a rough day."

He was startled when the other man chuckled. He had bright eyes that shone through the dark. "Not so much." he started to say, limping a little closer. He winced with every step, but his smile never wavered. His clothes were absolutely soaked through. Torn in some places, shredded in others. He was bruised and beaten. Bleeding a little bit from a scratch on his cheek and arm. His face had a streak of dirt. And yet, as he made his way over to the curb, the man just smiled. "This is a normal day for me."

The strange man stopped right before him, his bright eyes fixed on the ground. The hat in the puddle. With what looked like a great deal of effort, the man eased himself down on one knee, and picked up the hat. His breath rattled in his chest. Slowly, reverently, he brushed off the brim like it would do any good. He took great care to gently grasp the hat in one hand while he pushed himself back up to his feet with the other.

How weird. Something was so familiar about him. The red hat, the overalls, the mustache. The New Donker just couldn't place it. He listened to the man's work boots scrape along the ground as he limped to the bench, and the man's deep sigh as he finally heaved himself up to have a seat. The hat rested in his lap.

The man looked up and contemplated the sky, blinking into the rain. "This city," he murmured, and his voice was low and quiet. His accent made his every word unique. "It is so strange. There are so many people. But, somehow, it is in a crowd where you feel the most alone, no?"

The rain eased a little, and the breeze wasn't so cold. The New Donker turned and watched the strange man with wide eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." he said.

With a sideways glance and an ironic smile, the man leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He looked tired. But he was silent, merely listening to the rainfall on the windows and roofs.

There was an inexplicable rush of excitement in the New Donker's chest, a longing to give voice to every burden he ever carried. This strange man, he gets it. He clearly understood the way he felt. "I lost my job." he blurted out before he could stop himself. "I feel like no one ever misses me. It doesn't matter if I'm there or if I'm not. You know what I mean?"

The man nodded vaguely, eyes flickering over to watch him. The New Donker went on. "I used to dream a lot when I was little, but now I can't remember the last time I had a good dream. They're all about phone calls and blue screens now. And weak coffee. You know? I haven't felt right for a long time. Like my mind is screwed on backwards. Or something. I don't know."

Sitting up a little, the man didn't even flinch as the rain fell on his face, certainly striking all his cuts and bruises. He blinked slowly. His relaxed posture made the New Donker realize he was waiting. Go on.

So he did. "Everything just feels wrong. And now it doesn't even feel real. I've held this job for years. I was gonna ask this girl out…" Everything was just spilling out of him, he didn't even know why he was telling all of this to a stranger. But what did it matter? What mattered was that the man was there. "And you know? I haven't called my mom in ages. She would be really disappointed in me. I think. I mean, I don't think my brother ever got fired. And it just feels so cold out here."

He let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. You're the first person to ever just sit down next to me. Everyone else just walks right past."

The New Donker stopped. He really did feel like no one ever sat down next to him. Not just that night on the bench, but everywhere else, too. He felt like no one ever struck up a conversation with him unless they needed something. Every word was a formality. When was the last time he'd had a substantial conversation with anybody that wasn't just about the weather? When was the last time anyone had wanted to be in his company? "I just...I do things, and I say things, and then I get embarrassed. Then, I want everyone to forget everything, forget about me. Forget I ever say anything. And then they do. And now I'm here."

If he wasn't at work, then he was at home. If he wasn't at home, then he was at work. That was his life. He could see through the windows of social media that people all around him went out for fun together. They enjoyed one another's company. And he never wanted to bother them, never wanted to be in the way.

And so he was alone on that bench on a rainy night. No one to call. No job to go back to in the morning. No apartment to live in if he didn't find a way to pay rent soon.

The strange man next to him held out his gloved hand, palm up. His eyes raised to the sky. "Ah. The rain, it is picking up again." he spoke. Sure enough, the puddles all around them rippled, and pattering on the streets became louder.

Feeling something cold in his chest, the New Donker just nodded. So the man hadn't really cared to listen after all.

With a deep sigh, the man pushed himself up off the bench, smiling as pleasantly as a sunny day. He favored one leg once he got to his feet. One arm dangled limply at his side. The other still held the cap that the New Donker had dropped before.

He fixed the New Donker with those bright, sharp eyes again. His stare was heavy. "Sometimes, the rain feels like it will never stop. It just starts one day. And then it keeps going. Somehow, I always forget to bring an umbrella." he laughed a little to himself, looking up and around the street. "But the rain isn't bad. It cleans the air a little. And it always eventually stops."

"Uh huh." the New Donker agreed numbly. He couldn't believe that even the stranger who bothered to sit next to him still only wanted to talk about the weather.

Rubbing his injured shoulder, the man just smiled. "You know. The city. It will chew you up and spit you out." he echoed the sentiment from before.

The New Donker sat up with wide eyes.

"I got chewed up a lot today." the man looked down at himself, at all the tears in his clothes and scratches on his skin. He was getting wet again under the rain. His cheeks and his big nose gleamed in the dull sodium lights. When he looked up, he gave a meaningful look to the New Donker. "But you know what you have to do when that happens?"

Blinking a couple of times, the New Donker just shook his head.

Behind the man, he could see the moon peek through the clouds. The only light bright enough to outshine the city lights. "Sometimes you find yourself flat on your back in the rain. Sometimes when you give the best of you, you only get the worst handed back. Sometimes you will feel like the storm will never stop. When that happens, there is only one thing that you can do." as he spoke, he approached the New Donker. He limped every step. He came until he was close enough to reach out and touch him. He fixed the New Donker with a profound gaze. "You have to smile, and get back up."

The streets became loud with rainfall. The trashcans and light poles resonated with their dull, metallic ring. A taxi drove by on the road, and the New Donker watched the light travel across the man's face. He was grinning, proud and free. "Smile, because you're alive. You feel cold and alone. But you're still alive. You're still here." he held up his arms and closed his eyes, just feeling the rain on his skin. "We come into this world crying because it hurts to live. It hurts, but there are good things, too. People and places that you have to find. But you won't find any of the good things unless you get back up."

The New Donker watched the man with big eyes, while the rain poured down on both of their heads. He practically jumped when the man held out the hat to him.

"Put your hat back on." he said, and his voice lowered with a soft expression. "Smile, and get up. Call your mom. Ask that girl out. Get your resume together and start looking for work. You know what you have to do."

Starstruck, the New Donker slowly accepted the hat. He nodded numbly.

With a pleased grin, the man backed up a step. "Ah," he said, and looked up. "The rain is stopping."

The New Donker followed his gaze. The puddles stopped rippling. The pattering slowed down. So the storm was finally coming to a stop after all. The man was right, rain always stops eventually. The streets were cleaner than they were before. His mind was clearer than it ever had been. Reaching up, he fixed his hat back on his head.

"Thank you, Mister." he spoke.

When he looked down again, the man had gone.

He looked up and down the street. The neon lights flickered above him, but never quite died out. There wasn't any trace of the man. He hadn't even heard him limp away. He searched left and right, everywhere around him, but there wasn't a sign that anyone had been there. His eyes found his way up to the poster, illuminated by the moon and resting on the opposite wall. The New Donker let out a soft, amused breath. "Thank you, Jumpman." he murmured.

The rain had stopped. The moon shone indifferently above the city. The New Donker smiled, and stood up.

He started walking leisurely on his way back to his apartment a few blocks away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. The lights changed for traffic that wasn't there.

He listened to his footsteps scrape along the wet ground. "Hey, mom," he said, holding his phone to his ear and looking to the skies. He had a tender smile. "Yeah, it's me."

O~o~O

Bench Friends was one of my favorite moons to get in Mario Odyssey. I just always thought the scene was so sweet; Mario is such a little guy compared to the New Donkers, so to sit him on a bench next to a guy was so silly and adorable to me. I imagine that he's a pretty good listener, and that he'd be able to cheer just about anyone up on a bad day. Thanks for reading!