The final installment in the Sly feature is a little alluring lore about the legendary myth himself. As always, I try to leave it as fragments of fiction, giving you the scene but not the whole book. Sly especially is a character you get to know over time through other people’s perceptions of his actions. So, he will not be a totally easy read here either. But, it does solve one question. Can you guess what this short tells you about Sly?

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Soulful, Spring 2009

Being an exchange student for college seemed like a good idea, until it left me wandering in the middle of the night when American cities were closed. To my Australian ways, it still felt like mid day. I wouldn’t call it a shock, as much as an adjustment. There was always some place to go, to read, to eat and drink, to be on the fringes of social situations without committing.

But every street was dark and sleepy.

Every night I kept looking. I’d settle for a 3am coffee shop. 

It was weeks and random streets before I found it, an older than time building with colorful windows. The big space was empty, but there were some lights on. All I wanted to know was if the bright full moon shone in these windows. I saw it a little from the door. Something told me to test the knob. When I tried, the door wasn’t locked. So I entered to get a better look, and to maybe soak up the moonlight.

“Odd hour to be out. You need a drink too?”

This old man leaned forward from behind the darkened bar. It surprised me to find something open let alone active.

“I’m enjoying the moonlight here, but I could stay for a drink. Balentine Rajnesh Siymak at your service.” I bowed, unsure what else to do. There wasn’t much to read on this man’s face. All I could hope was that he was the owner and respecting him would be good.

“That’s a hell of a mouthful son. What did you say? Sly something?”

My last name was Siymak, meaning many things, including solitary. Though, I had not heard someone butcher it so. And yet, for this night, it seemed ok. 

“Sly is close enough, sir.”

The older man poured a drink and put it in front of a stool for me. “Gus, not sir. I could be closed any day now, might as well enjoy all the time I have left.”

“Oh? Are you closing this fine establishment?” I slid into the seat and looked around at the old world charm of the forgotten but not decrepit space. For a factory floor space, it had been modernized throughout the decades, like rings on trees.

“Not on purpose. Buildings and zones keep wanting my land, but I don’t want to sell. And reading this stupid book makes me want to drink instead.”

He shoved at a thick book on the bar. I pulled it over and started to flip through it. A law book. I got why it confused him, because the rules had multiple versions of double negative eloquence. I read plenty of things like this.

So, we discussed his problems with the club, and I read this book, making notes for him. At some point Gus wandered over to a booth and fell asleep. I took it as he trusted me to stay. And I did. I also vowed to return every night to keep an eye on this kind man who needed a little help fighting for what was his. 

When I was done making notes for him for the night, I didn’t want to leave this man alone, so I pulled out my traveling book and moved a chair to read in the moonlight. The strong light cast through the red, orange, and yellow stained glass oddly felt like daylight in the moonlight, and I felt at home for the first time in this new situation. 

I’d help Gus stay open, because I didn’t want to wander anywhere else. Soulful felt like a purpose in my life, a reason to enjoy my different sort of sleep schedule. And Gus had stories to tell for ages.

I’d never be bored.