The Barista

This would be his last chai. He would drink it on the short walk to the bridge, and then it would be all over. The little bell above the smudged glass door jingled merrily when Jack Long pushed it open with his shoulder at exactly 3:57. A quick glance around the small coffee shop informed him that there were no other customers. He was safe from prying eyes. Well, except for the barista behind the counter. The door swung closed behind him as he stepped the rest of the way inside. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the warm coffee scented air. Ah, a chai latte would be just the ticket on a mizzling Monday afternoon like this one. Although he was out of the rain, he left his hood up, and his sunglasses on. The worn floorboards creaked beneath him as limped through the empty tables towards the counter. He imagined that the young woman was fuming inside. No one appreciated a customer three minutes before closing time. 

                  “And what can I get for you?” she queried cheerfully as he approached the till. Surprising, he didn’t detect any resentment in her voice. Maybe she was just good at concealing it. 

                  “Medium chai latte,” he slurred out the words gruffly without looking at her, instead he examined the odds and ends of baking, forlorn and unclaimed, that remained behind the glass on the front of the counter.

                  “Ah, nothing can beat a good cup of chai on a day like this.” Great, worse than grumpy; she was trying to strike up a conversation. “Can I get you anything else? I’ll let you have one of our ham and cheese croissants at half price. I’ll have to throw them away anyway.”

                  “No.” 

                  “Whatever you say. That’ll be $5.50.” Silently he handed over a $5 and two quarters, placing them in the soft feminine hand that reached into his field of view. 

                  “I’ll have it done in a jiffy.” Leaving the front of the counter, he went and stood against the wall. He studied the worn hardwood floor as an espresso machine whirred to life somewhere nearby. Absentmindedly, he massaged his left bicep, it still ached sometimes even though the accident had been over three years ago. He still cursed his luck. Only twenty seven and the rest of his life already ruined by a horribly disfiguring car accident. His face had become an ever present reminder of the trauma, and had been terribly burned and scarred. He went through life with his hood up and his head down trying to hide the face of a monster. Even though he was a nice guy inside, people looked at the outside; and his face was an effective barrier between him and those around him. He had grown used to people shying away from him, and he had come to accept the fact that he was nothing but a blight on face of humanity. Lately, he had started wondering whether he should even continue, there was no future for him on this planet. He was as welcome as an invading alien. Which was why he had decided to end it, remove himself from this plane of existence, so its occupants need not be bothered by him. 

                  “Sir? Your drink is ready.” The barista’s voice cut through his thoughts. He lifted his gaze and took a good look at her for the first time. She was standing smack up against the counter cradling his drink in two hands. His eyes focused on her face, and the rest of the coffee shop faded into the background. It was the most beautiful face he had seen for a long time. True, it wasn’t the type of face that would win any beauty pageants, in fact most people wouldn’t even give her a second look. But to him, she was breathtaking: she was smiling at him. A genuine, radiant smile that was directed at him. No disgust or fear was visible on her features. Just a friendly, welcoming smile that he was powerless to look away from. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever smiled at him like that. 

                  Seconds past as he stood motionless, staring. Soon a hint of trepidation crossed her face, he was obviously making her uncomfortable. He stepped forward, took the proffered drink, and turned for the door. 

                  “Have a good day,” she sang out behind him. He didn’t respond, but retraced his steps through the deserted tables and pushed open the smudged glass door. It was raining harder now, and the sidewalk was deserted. Good. His first sip brought the image of the girl who had crafted it back to his mind, and he held it there and savored it along with his drink. When he reached the next intersection, he headed in the opposite direction of the bridge. 

                  He was back at 3:58 the next afternoon. Again, the small bell above the glass door jingled its welcome; however, someone had cleaned the glass since yesterday as it was now sparkly clean. A hopeful glance at that counter revealed that it was a different barista than yesterday. This girl had perfect features: gorgeous dark hair, a perfect tan, full lips, but  her face was disfigured by unwelcoming scowl. 

                  “Hey, it’s 4 o’clock. We’re closed. You’ll have to come back tomorrow,” her tone was quite unfriendly.

                  “It’s actually not 4 yet, so I’m coming in.”

                  “Well, this espresso machine shuts down at 4 which is like a minute away, so ya. Come in if you want, but…”

                  “Thank you for your service,” he shot over his shoulder as he turned and shoved the door open. Angrily, he stalked off down the sidewalk. 

                  By the following afternoon, Jack was ready to try another visit to the Java Junction. This time though, he peered through the glass to see who was running the counter today. He was in luck, there she was. Before opening the door, he checked the time: 3:52. She might not even have to work overtime today on his account. 

                  The cool interior was a welcome relief from the surprisingly warm spring sunshine. A middle age woman bearing two iced drinks passed him as he headed for the counter. For a brief second their eyes met, he heard a quick intake of breath and the woman recoiled as if struck. She scuttled past him, and rage swelled in his heart. The friendly greeting from the barista dampened his anger like rain on a fire. Again there was nothing but friendliness in those soft brown eyes.

                  “Enjoying the sunshine?” He nodded, but didn’t speak. She smiled at him as she waited for him to order. Warmth spread through his soul at her simple acceptance. 

                  “Medium chai latte, please.” It felt foreign to actually look at the person he was speaking too. 

                  “Chai latte coming right up. That’ll be $5.50 again.” He handed over the money and then stood in the same place against the wall. This time he watched his drink being created instead of staring at the floor. Every movement was graceful, but fast and efficient. In no time at all she was turning to hand him his completed drink. Today he noticed that her name tag said Elle.

                  “Thank you Elle,” he slurred raggedly as he took his drink. Her radiant smile illuminated her features again. 

                  “Your very welcome. Come back anytime.” As he walked through the empty tables toward the front of the shop, she called after him, “Have a wonderful day!” Jack didn’t acknowledge the statement, but the slightest hint of a smile crossed his twisted lips. 

                  In the weeks that followed Jack continued to frequent the Java Junction. He quickly learned which days she worked, and he never stepped foot inside the door unless she was behind the counter. Even though he continually arrived just before closing time, she always greeted him with a cheery smile. There was something special about this girl, something his lonely soul craved like parched ground. He got in the habit of taking his drink across the street to the used book store, and finishing it there while pretending to read a book just inside the front window. Really he was just hoping for another glimpse of Elle, he would stay there until she locked up the shop and walked home. 

                  Something about the girl’s spirit drew him like a moth to a flame. The more he was around her the more the cloud of depression and loneliness he had been living under lifted. She was the one thing that made his life worth living. 

One Sunday evening Jack was out strolling in Greene Point Park. The sun had set and darkness had fallen across the rolling green acres. The glow of the city lights nearby illuminated the sky, making the stars faint. He was in the back corner of the park where he was highly unlikely to meet anyone. No paved trails ran through this heavily forested part, only an unlit dirt path, as a result there were no people. Peace and solitude, just what he wanted. There was a spot back here where he loved to come, sit, and ponder life. 

The rear boundary of Greene Point park was a twenty foot cliff that ran along the Northbend River. Here the water was forced through a narrow gorge, and the rapids were quite violent. During the summer, it could be quite fascinating to watch the kayakers come through. It was the only set of class four rapids within five hours and people would come from miles around to tackle the violent waves. Even now he could hear the muted roar of rushing water.

The full moon reached soft fingers of light through the tree branches, making it quite simple to find his way in the dark. Back here where almost no one ever came, there was a section of cliff that had no fence. It was a good vantage point to sit and just let his mind relax. Allow his troubles and stresses to just drain out of him, and be carried away by those turbulent waters. 

The trail passed within twenty feet of the place he was trying to reach, but due to the lay of the land he had to take a rather circuitous route to reach it. The trail ran right along the crest of the hill below which the ground fell away in a fairly steep descent before plunging vertically to the water. The trail cut diagonally down this steep bank till it reached a ledge some five feet wide, the trail ran along this section for a distance before it climbed away from the cliff again. A tired rusty chain link fence formed a dubious barrier between trail travelers and the foaming river. A hole gaped in the fence allowing him to slip through onto the ledge and backtrack in the direction he had come just on a lower level. Fifty feet down this ledge was a section of granite that nature had eroded a sort of seat into. As he approached the spot, it seemed to almost glow in the moonlight.  

Gratefully, he settled into the smooth granite, it could be tiresome limping around all day, and he needed a break. Some twenty feet below his seat the water churned and thundered. Something about this spot had a way of making him forget his problems, it made him feel wild and free. His mind went to Elle as he sat there with cool river air softly caressing his face. He thought of her almost constantly now, it was like he couldn’t help it. He was trying to get up the courage to take things further than their customer/barista relationship, but he was deathly afraid that if he made that move she would finally shun him. Turned off by his ghastly features. For all he knew the smiles and friendliness was only good customer service and nothing more. 

Out of his peripheral vision he saw movement on the trail above him. Curiously he turned to look. Up on the bank off to the side of his position, he saw two shadowy figures. They stepped off the trail and behind two trees that stood right at the top of the bank. Peering up through the intervening trees, he couldn’t make out the figures very well; but it was obvious they were up to no good. It seemed like they might be laying in wait for someone. He had to admit it was a good spot, this was a remote corner of the park where you weren’t likely to be discovered, and the roar of the river would drown out any cries for help. The world hadn’t really offered him any help in the last few years, so he was inclined to just let this play out and not bother interfering. Why risk getting himself injured for a complete stranger. 

Then far in the distance, seemingly coming the same direction he had come; he heard singing. Rage boiled up in him, he knew that voice. He was on his feet in an instant and rushing back along the ledge he had so recently traversed. He simply he had to get to them before she did. No one was going to hurt his girl. Ducking through the hole in the fence, he turned left and began ascending the hill in a limping half run. Before coming in sight of the two thugs, he slowed to a normal walk. He tried to appear lackadaisical, just a guy out for a stroll in the moonlight. Inside he was tensing for a fight, no one was allowed to hurt his girl. When he drew abreast of the trees where they guys were hiding, he paused and pretended to just be checking out his surroundings. The singing was getting close, he didn’t have much time. 

It was quite likely the two guys were packing, and he didn’t have a weapon. Being outnumbered, he would have to execute a surprise attack. Dropping to one knee, he retied one shoe while scoping out the ground for a sharp rock. He knew the two guys were watching him, but as they felt they hadn’t been discovered they were unlikely to attack at least not yet. Spotting a sharp rock close at hand he took a deep breath, time to act. He picked up the rock, straightened while pivoting towards his targets, and stepped off the trail all in one fluid motion. His arm was already slicing towards the guy behind the tree to his left before he even had him in view. Understandably the thugs were not expecting the attack. Chiseled granite met human skull with a dull thud, and the guy quietly collapsed and went tumbling down the steep bank towards the cliff edge and the thundering river. Jack pivoted towards his right while drawing back his arm. Razer sharp steel flashed in the moonlight, and then he grunted as the blade bit deep into his left shoulder. Jack swung aiming for the shadowy figure’s head, but he was off balance and his blow was weak. It only glanced off the attacker’s skull, but the blow was enough to throw them both off kilter. 

Jack threw out his arms but there was nothing to grab. They toppled over the bank, and began an uncontrolled descent towards the river. Jack desperately tried to grasp at something, anything; but there was nothing to grab. The knife was still embedded in his shoulder, but the other guy had let go of it. Jack heard his body tumbling along close by. He closed his eyes as he fell from the cliff, and inhaled a massive breath. This was it, the end of the road. The water was freezing. 

Up on the trail, the singer came around the corner. She carried a small Bible in one hand and nothing else. She was walking slowly, obviously soaking in the beautiful moonlit summer night. Her voice rose and fell as she poured out her voice in song. Moving past where evil had lain in wait, she descended the trail her singing growing fainter and fainter until only the river filled the night with its rumble. 

The next day Elle watched with anticipation as 4:00 neared. Something intrigued her about the fellow that had been making these last minute visits. She wasn’t sure what about him peaked her interest, maybe just the fact that he seemed lonely and shunned in the world. At first he had had been very closed off and stiff, but within the last few days she hade noticed him softening a bit. She waited till 4:15; but he never showed. Finally, she closed the shop somewhat confused; it was the first day he had missed since that rainy afternoon when he had first walked through that door. Oh well, he would surely be back tomorrow. But the next day was the same, and the next. Eventually, she began to accept that he wouldn’t come back. She wondered if something she had done had turned the poor lonely man away.