Ordinary

[spiceblueeyes]

This was written for the black out prompt at tamingthemuse . The poem in it was written by robert Service, my favorite poet. If anyone is interested more of his work can be found here.

Title:Ordinary
Fandom: BtVS
Summary:A glimpse into the life of a citizen of Sunnydale.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The world of BtVS doesn't belong to me.

 

                                                                    Ordinary

If you and I should chance to meet,

I guess you wouldn’t care;

I’m sure you’d pass me in the street

As if I wasn’t there;

You’d never look me in the face,

My modest mug to scan,

Because I’m just a commonplace

                                                              And Ordinary Man.                  

            The long broom swished as it was pushed down the hallway, shepherding the droves of dust bunnies to the end, where they would be captured and disposed of. The man wielding the broom, Bob Brown, worked quickly; he wanted to be home before dark. It was after school hours at Sunnydale High School and this was the last thing on his to-do list and then he was done. The job was mostly a thankless one, though sometimes he got a nod or a smile from one of the teachers. The students mostly ignored him unless he was standing in their way. He did his work, kept his head down, and ignored them right back. Sweeping the floors, taking out the trash, making sure all the bathrooms had toilet paper and soap, these were the things he did every day. It was boring, menial labor, but someone had to do it, and the pay was more that competitive. He thought that might have something to do with all the weird things that went on in Sunnydale, the school in particular. Not that anyone would ever mention if it was. It was an unspoken law that no one ever discussed, commented on, or even tried to remember any odd events. Sometimes a significant glance was exchanged between friends, but that was all.

Finished sweeping, he locked the broom up in the closet and hurried out to his car. If he wasn’t home before sunset his wife would worry.

But then, it may be, you are too

A guy of every day,

Who does the job he’s told to do

And takes the wife his pay;

Who makes a home and kids his care,

And works with pick or pen…

Why, pal, I guess we’re just a pair

Of Ordinary Men.

            Bob fumbled with his keys, searching for the right one. As head custodian for the school he had a key to every door in the building, and that was a lot of keys. The Librarian, Mr. Giles, fidgeted behind him, apparently in a hurry. He was flanked by two girls and a boy. The girls had intent looks on their faces as well, and he could sense that the longer he took finding the right key, the more agitated they would become. He wondered briefly what they needed that was so important, but quickly squashed the curiosity. These people were often found when strange things happened so it was best to not even think about them too hard. He finally found the right one and opened the door. Before he even had it all the way open Mr. Giles was pushing his way past him, followed closely by the two girls, neither of them sparing him a glance. The boy however, clapped his shoulder and flashed him a smile. “Thanks for helping out man.” Bob nodded at him. Well, at least someone appreciated the fact that because the Librarian lost the key to the library he was going to be late getting home, he might not make it before dark. He turned to leave but the boy caught his hand and pressed something into it, quickly following his friends into the library.

Looking down, Bob saw that it was a small wooden cross. He clutched it tightly and headed home.

We plug away and make no fuss,

Our feats are never crowned;

And yet it’s common coves like us

Who make the world go round.

And as we steer a steady course

By God’s predestined plan,

Hats off to that almighty course:

THE ORDINARY MAN.*

            The next day Bob showed up at work, just like every day. The night before there had been a city wide black out, shutting the whole town down. However whatever caused it must have been fixed because this morning the power was back on and everything was once again normal. He knew no one would talk about it, they could all feel that it had something to do with something weird, therefore it would be forgotten. If the Librarian and the three students he had had with him last night looked a bit tired, or a little grey around the edges, no one said anything.

If there was far more dust on the floors than usual, Bob didn’t say anything. He just swept it up, listening to the swish of the broom on the floor.

 

*The poem is Ordinary Man by Robert Service

Comments

[thismaz.livejournal.com]

Beautifully done. The way you mixed the poem in with the story was lovely. I usually avoid poem and songfics, because they are nearly always strained in form and too sentimental, but here your contrast between the sentiment of the poem and the practical humanity of Bob (and Xander) was a pleasure to read. Congratulations.

[spiceblueeyes.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much. I'm glad you made an exception to mine, and even more happy that you enjoyed it!

Ordinary

[(Anonymous)]

I agree. And I loved how even though it's a BtVS story, it speaks to everyone with the focus on Bob.

Re: Ordinary

[spiceblueeyes.livejournal.com]

Thank you!