The versatility of the hasty

Sitting in the cafe every Tuesday, I order Fennel tea, open the book that I always carry in my handbag, and start reading my favorite short story. Everything in that period of time is a mere distraction, that serves to ease my thoughts’ tension. It is always very pleasant to sit in a quiet place, enjoy a loving atmosphere and appreciate a book you love. I stay like that in the cafe from seven in the morning until seven and a half hours.

That cafe is one of the most peaceful and serene places I know, where it can be found, in addition to good tea or coffee, great company. It is a nice place and very well lit, as it is extremely anointed with the Sun's golden sunlight. That day when I repeated the same routine that I had kept for years, I sat on the usual chair and table.

A tall, sturdy boy passed in front of the establishment. He was a young boy who seemed to be around 16 years old. He was thin, with tanned skin and straight honey-colored hair, which contrasted with his ruby ​​green eyes. Even with a so radiant beauty, what caught most of my attention was what he was bringing with him: a cart full of books being pulled by his left hand, and another book being carried by his right hand, which the teenager was reading very diligently. The plot of that book should be very good, seeing that the boy couldn't take his eyes off it while walking.

The following Tuesday, I heard the sound of wheels on the cobblestone of the sidewalk in front of the cafe again, and I turned to look at the book boy. Well, the books were gone! The young man was balancing himself with great effort on top of a pair of green skates with orange neon stripes, staggering from side to side in search of balance. He was not very talented... But with practice you get perfection. After a few seconds, the boy left my sight.

A week later, I was very curious to see if the skater boy had improved his balance! When I saw a youthful shadow in the corner of my eyes, I turned to look at the skater, but there was not a pair of skates on his feet, he was only wearing a pair of old sneakers. The young man was wearing headphones in his ears, with so stupidly loud music that even I, who wear hearing aids, could hear it. Now the boy was dancing! He jolted himself on the sidewalk until I lost sight of him again. He was not a good dancer neither... There was a possibility of the boy improving his dance steps until the following week.

After seven days, I was waiting for the dancing boy, but I was wrong again about his hobby: he was trying to walk with his hands this time! If I'm not mistaken the name of this acrobatics is “handstand”... The young man was trying to walk while doing handstands. He fell just over three times and I stopped counting his falls after that. Now my enthusiasm was to see if the boy's hobby on the following Tuesday would be the same as the week before.

The following Tuesday, I was already sipping my calming tea when the boy appeared again, but this time he was walking with his feet and not with his hands. While he was moving along the sidewalk with narrow, calm steps, I confirmed my hypotheses about his "constant hobbie change syndrome": now he was carrying a notebook and a pencil! I put on my glasses to spy on what he was doing in the notebook and found out that he was now drawing... Maybe his drawing was a superhero. It was difficult to know, he was also not one of the best designers.

After another week, I decided to try a different type of tea that day, as a tribute to the versatile boy I had been observing for the past few weeks. The clerk thought he had misunderstood my request since I have been drinking the same type of tea for ten years... My retired life may seem boring, but it is happy. As I sat down with my Chamomile tea, I saw the boy with a ruled notebook and a pen in his left hand... He seemed to be writing a poem. I suppose he was looking for a rhyme, as he thoughtfully raised the pen to his lips. As usual, the boy went out of my sight in a matter of seconds.

A week after seeing the boy try to be a poet, I saw him walking down the street with a soccer ball at his feet! Now he was a footballer... He was very good indeed: he had great skill with feet. The boy played with the ball for about half an hour: ran down the sidewalk, and kicked the ball all over the street. After that, he decided to sit on the sidewalk to catch his breath.

I had already had enough time to drink my tea, so I got up calmly, took the tea-cup I used, and left it in the hands of the kind attendant who served me. I left the cafe, stood at the edge of the establishment door, and kept watching the boy. He got up, went to his car, took out a guitar, sat down on the sidewalk again, and started testing some melodies and lyrics... It was nice to hear him. I joined him at the edge of the asphalt and said:

- You are very skilled with your feet, boy! And you have the musical ability too... Maybe you should dedicate yourself to one hobby at a time.

- Pardon? – he asked.

I gave a hoarse laugh and added:

- In the last few weeks, I saw you being a book lover, skater, dancer, gymnast, designer, poet, football player, and just now a musician. One step at a time, boy... One step at a time.