Author's note: The events about how Seymour got his job mentioned here are from my story "Mushnik and Son". You don't have to have read it to understand though.


Chapter Five:

May 8 1964

Nothing today.

"Well, thanks anyway. See ya again," Seymour said nodding to the Asian man who attended the stall he so frequently visited.

Smiling he nodded back, "Goodbye Seymour."

Seymour shoved his hands in his pockets and started back to work at a brisk pace. In reality He only wanted to step out of the dusty shop for just a minute. He didn't mean to stray all the way to Chang's. His lunch break would be over soon and he didn't want to hear an earful from Mr. Mushnik. It wouldn't actually matter if he was a little late though. There was no business anyway, but that fact didn't matter. And if he was late it'd be his fault. Everything was Seymour's fault.

Wait, this isn't the right way.

Somewhere in his daydreaming he had taken a wrong turn and he was on an unfamiliar street. Seymour tried to make sense of it as he glanced up at the street signs and landmarks. Suddenly it struck him.

No, not here.

But there it was. He stopped completely, knowing that the hope he'd be back on time was pointless now. There it stood, The Home, same as the day he left it. He curled his fingers over the chain link and leaned in. There weren't any kids in the yard, and Seymour remembered it was lunchtime. He was suddenly brought back to his not so fond memories of lunchtime. "Too slow Krelborn!" rang loud in his ears. He'd lost many of his lunches over the years. At least he was out now right?

Sighing he let go of the fence and continued on, but thoughts and memories of the home continued to play in his head. He still remembered the day he first left. On a whim he had taken off one summer afternoon when he was nine years old. After wandering lost in the city for hours he stumbled into a shop entranced by it's greenery. In his enjoyment he dropped a crystal vase shattering it on the floor. That was how he met Mr. Mushnik. Lacking the money to pay for it, Mr. Mushnik had Seymour work the remainder of the day in the shop. After he finished Seymour was found and brought back to the home but the thoughts and dreams of plants never left his mind. A year and a half later he took off again in an attempt to satisfy his need for green. After searching he found the shop again same as the day he worked there. It was that day that changed his destiny. Seymour witnessed Mr. Mushnik's sole employee swiping cash from the drawer and ratted him out in a rare act of bravery. After the day was done Seymour headed back to the home thinking that was the end of it. Fate had more in mind for him. About a week later Mr. Mushnik showed up at the home out of the blue and offered Seymour a job in the shop and even let him move into the basement. Startled but eager to start a new life for himself, the 11-year-old left the home he was born and raised in. At that time he was so sure he was free though soon the reality set in. He had just traded one prison for another.

He didn't notice but the closer he got to the shop the more he slowed down. Not that being on the street was much better. It was Skid Row after all. Suddenly he realized he was by himself, all alone in the world. He started life as an orphan, a child of the streets. His mother was dead and as far as he knew he'd never met his father. He didn't have any friends growing up at the home and was ignored and berated at by his boss and guardian. He wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. He hadn't known anywhere else so his imagination had to fill in the rest. Closing his eyes briefly he heard the cars. Except now they weren't cars. They were waves. He was at the south seas where they grow the most fabulous plants in the world. He felt the wind on his face and heard it run through his ears. Except it wasn't wind. He was flying in an airplane for the first time. He opened his eyes and caught sight of some loose grass and dandelions sprouting up from a crack in the sidewalk. Except it wasn't a sidewalk. It was a field. A green grassy field. He was off somewhere far far from urban skid row. Somewhere that's green. Oh what he wouldn't give for that one.

Reaching the outside of the shop he stopped himself completely and glanced up at it. At this point he'd spent more of his life working there than he hadn't. It was old and forgotten to the world. He wasn't ready to go back in. It was such a beautiful day. Slowly walking forward he saw movement past the glare of the front window. Audrey. She was stretching her arms high above her head and letting out a giant yawn, before settling back down and leaning her elbows on the counter. Suddenly he didn't feel so lonely after all. He had Audrey in his life. Seymour had never felt with anyone the way he felt with Audrey, and he could only describe this feeling as magic. So long as she was there all would be well. He smiled to himself feeling lighter than air before heading in.

Upon hearing the bell Audrey bolted upright and eyes illuminated with excitement.

"Seymour! Seymour!" She blurted before he could say anything, "This came for you!"

She motioned to a brown envelope resting on the counter, nearly bouncing on her toes from excitement. Seymour paused momentarily, taking off his hat. Moving forward he saw it sure enough,

Seymour Krelborn

1313 Skid Row

Manhattan NY

He picked it up and turned it in his hands before opening. He never got mail. Who would it be from? He checked the return address.

New York state department of archives

"But… it's been months," he whispered in a state of complete shock and disbelief.