Table No 4

Table No 4

The man opened the menu and buried himself in it while the server stood thrumming his pen on the notepad, waiting to take the order. It was midnight, half an hour more for the restaurant to close. His seniors had taught the server, a boy barely out of his teens, that it was better to hover around the customer’s table during the night shift and get them to order as quickly as possible. So he stood, shuffling his aching feet, looking at the clock and at the restaurant owner, hoping the man would show some signs of activity and place an order. After about ten minutes, the man lifted his head and looked around with an unseeing gaze. His eyes were red and swollen and his eyelashes wet.

The server cleared his throat and, rearranging his tired face into a pleasant smile, said,  “Are you ready to order, sir?”

“Ah um. Not right now, thank you. Just some water will do. I will call you when I am ready to order.”

The boy retreated, dragging his feet, casting a longing glance at the clock and hoping the man would order soon. As he perched on the uncomfortable stool near the serving window, he saw the owner pointing discreetly towards the diner with raised eyebrows. The boy shook his head, earning him a frown from the owner. The owner waggled two fingers at him, which meant he was to return to Table No 4 in two minutes. He nodded. It had been a long fourteen hours of work, but he was on duty till the restaurant door closed for the night.

The man sat slumped in his chair for some time and then got up suddenly. The boy wondered if he was leaving and got up from his stool to see if could get him to change his mind. However, the man drew out a photograph from the pocket of his jeans and sat down again. He ran his fingers over the photograph and picked up the menu again. The boy hoped that the man had decided what he wanted to order. He picked up his notepad and pencil and walked toward the table.

Just then, the man got up and walked towards the billing counter where the owner was busy tallying the bills with the collections of the day. The boy noticed the man’s simple but expensive-looking white shirt over jeans, gold-rimmed glasses, and the sleek watch on his hand and wondered why this man had chosen their small decrepit restaurant. He looked like he could afford to eat at the swanky restaurant down the road.

“Rich people sure have weird tastes. Maybe it makes them feel better coming to places like these to see where and what the poor eat,“ the boy thought to himself. “I am sure he is going to complain about something to the owner as if that guy really cares!”   

The restaurant owner stood up when the man approached and they had a hushed conversation for a couple of minutes. It looked to be intense and maybe had some kind of surprise as the boy saw the owner looking at the man in shock. But the man kept drawing the owner’s attention to the photograph in his hand and saying something in a strident tone. The owner frowned and beckoned to the boy, but the man stopped him and gestured to the boy to stay where he was. The owner finally nodded, and the man gave a satisfied smile before walking out of the restaurant.

“At last, I can leave”, the boy thought with relief. He put away the notepad and the bill book and hurried towards Table no. 4 to retrieve the used glass, just as the man walked back in. He looked at the boy with the glass and menu in his hand and smiled. The man sat down and extended his hand for the menu.

“So, what do you recommend from the many options on this menu?”

The menu, if it could be called that, was barely two pages and covered in thin plastic, which was cracked in many places. The man studied the menu like he would a bestseller with utmost concentration. He ran his index finger, adorned with a thin gold band, down the menu items as though he were at a gourmet restaurant. The boy looked around to the owner for direction as the restaurant’s kitchen would close in fifteen minutes. The owner gestured asking him to go ahead.

The boy noticed the man looking at him, a twinkle in his eyes. He looked more composed than he had earlier.

“Sir, all our items are world-class, but I feel the chicken soup and cheese sandwich are the best. Would you like to order that?”

“Okay. Get me two portions of the soup and two sandwiches with extra mayo on the side. Do you serve fries with it? If not, bring one plate of fries along with it.”

The boy scribbled down the order and hastened to convey the order to the kitchen. The man had pulled out his phone and was scrolling through it. He observed that the restaurant owner had taken the cash box and gone to his office to keep the money in the safe. After some time, the man put his phone aside and picked up the menu again.

“Oh, no! Is he going to order something else? I will not make the last train if he does that!” the boy thought in alarm.

Just then, the tray with Table No. 4’s order was passed through the serving window. The boy hurried and picked up the tray. “I should take the menu away from this man before he decides he wants something else. Doesn’t he realize how late it is?” the boy thought to himself as he plastered a smile on his face and kept the food in front of the man. He set the cutlery to the side, refreshed the glass of water, and was turning away when the man beckoned to the chair in front of him and said, “Son, have you eaten? I know in this restaurant the servers on the night shift eat only after the last customer leaves. I have delayed your closing, so the least I can do is offer you dinner. Come, sit.”

“Thank you, sir. But that would not be appropriate. Please enjoy your meal and let me know if I can get you anything else,“ the boy replied politely, keeping his fingers crossed behind his back that the man would eat his food and leave soon.

“Are you worried about the owner? Trust me, he will not come out of the office for at least fifteen minutes. Besides, the food is already here and I can’t eat it by myself. It will be wasted if you don’t help me finish. I am sure a young growing boy like you can eat all this in ten minutes. Come, come, don’t waste any time. Sit down and give me company.”

The man gestured to the other plate and took a bite of the sandwich from the plate in front of him. After darting a nervous glance towards the closed office door, the boy picked up the sandwich from the other plate and took a large bite. He was sure his owner wouldn’t approve, though the man seemed to believe otherwise. He chewed fast, wanting to get out of this uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situation as soon as he could.

The man ate slowly, alternating bites of the sandwich with sips of the soup. He seemed to relish the over-seasoned and watery soup and the soggy sandwich with wilted vegetables. The boy wondered why he had chosen their hole-in-the-wall restaurant, in a corner of the city’s largest business district, so late at night.

The boy gulped down the last bite of the sandwich and wiped his mouth with his hands before realizing that the man was holding up a napkin for his use. The man smiled and said, “ What's your name, son? How long have you been working here?"

The boy glanced at the office door. The owner would come out any time now. The man was going to get him into trouble if he kept on asking him questions and kept him standing at the table! He had the closing activities to be done before he could leave the restaurant. He decided the best way to discourage this chatty diner was to give him short answers and send the man on his way.

The boy said, "I have been working here for 4 months now, Sir. Shall I pack the chicken soup for you?"

“No, don’t bother. I will have it here. But tell me more about yourself. Why did you come here to work? You look like you are a long way from home."

The boy groaned inwardly. Why was this man not taking the hint? Why was he acting as though he was interviewing him for a job? He wished he was bold enough to ask the man to leave him alone, but knew that would mean the end of this job. He needed the money to send back home until he found something better. But he decided that the free sandwich dinner did not entitle the man to know his life story. Life had taught him never to take kindness at face value. There were no free lunches or sandwiches in this case!

"Sir, why does anyone work? To make money and have a decent living. The owner of this restaurant provides free food, boarding and lodging. My cousin got me this job and so here I am. Sir, the kitchen will close anytime now. Can I get you anything else? I can pack it up along with the soup and the fries.”

The man laughed and said, “You seem determined to see me off, young man. I also noticed that you have answered none of my questions. I like that. Sure, pack up the chicken soup and fries, but take them back with you. I live close by and don’t need it. But a young boy like you will surely be hungry during the long ride home.”

The boy gaped at the man. How did he know where he stayed and about his commute? Was this man sent by the creditors in his village?

“Son, how much do you earn here? Do you save enough to send money home?”

The boy stood silent, playing with the pen in his hand. The man was making him uncomfortable and seemed oblivious to the boy’s reticence. To avoid further conversation, he scribbled the bill amount on a paper and placed it in front of the man. “Your bill, sir. Card or cash, sir?”

The man pulled out a sheaf of notes from his wallet, placed double the bill amount under the glass of water, and offered the rest to the boy. It was a sizeable sheaf, and the color of the notes suggested it was almost equal to the boy’s monthly wages.

Standing erect, the boy shook his head, indignation sparking in his eyes, “Sir, I work hard for the money I make and am proud of it. Thank you for the generous tip but I want only what is my due–10% of the bill. I am poor, but not a charity case.” He plucked the third note from the sheaf held out by the man and thrust the notes back into the man’s hand.

The man looked startled at the boy’s outburst and said, “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just wanted to tip you for serving me with so much care. Can you bring my order to my car? It’s parked outside and I want to get in before it rains.”

“Finally!” the boy thought to himself and heaved a sigh of relief. The sooner the man left, the better! He hastened to pack everything, signaled the chef to close the kitchen, and hurried out to give the parcel to the man.

The man was sitting in the rear seat of a Mercedes, window rolled down, a uniformed chauffeur waiting to start the car. The boy handed over the plastic bag to the man and said, “Thank you for the sandwich, sir. I hope you enjoyed your meal. Do visit again.”

The man turned and looked at the boy. “I know you are desperate to see me leave, but can you please give me five more minutes? I have a story to tell you.”

The boy nodded. He would do anything to see the back of this strange man.

“Twenty years ago, when I was about your age, I came to this city. Like you, I had come a long way from home, the only son of an impoverished farmer, expected to support the family as soon as he was able. For the first few months, I did all kinds of jobs just to survive. One day, fate brought me to this restaurant. There was a viral infection and many of the hotel’s staff were absent. The restaurant owner spotted me sitting outside waiting for the cobbler to finish repairing my only pair of shoes. He asked me if I wanted to work as a server, throwing in free food as a hook. I had been living on bread and tea ever since I left the village and couldn’t believe my luck. Soon, I learned the ropes of the business and became the most dependable server in the restaurant. The owner was neither a generous nor kind man, but he paid wages on time and ensured that we servers got to eat decent food twice a day.”

The boy stifled a yawn behind his hand, hoping the man hadn’t noticed. He noticed the driver grinning at him in sympathy. It looked like the man did this often!

The man continued, oblivious to the boy’s boredom and impatience. "One day, I served an old man sitting at the same table you served tonight. He asked me all the questions I asked you and I answered him the same way you did. I don’t know what he saw in me but he gave me his visiting card and asked me to come and meet him in his office. I was desperate enough to follow any lead that meant more money."

The boy edged back from the car a little, worried about where the conversation was going. What was the man getting at? What did he want? He looked around and noticed that the street was dark as the streetlight was flickering. The usual pavement dwellers were also absent. Was that what the money was all about? Was the man a pervert? The boy wondered if the owner would come out if he called out to him.

The man stopped talking and looked at the boy with tear-filled eyes. “Do you know why I came here today? The old man I served twenty years ago died this afternoon. He was my boss, my mentor, my friend, and my family. He did not just give me a job, but a life I couldn’t even dream of. Everything I am today is because of him. Do you know he left me a letter saying he was both proud of and disappointed in me? He was proud of my success but disappointed by the man I had become. His letter instructed me to honor his memory not by holding a lavish memorial service but by paying it forward. He asked me to come to this restaurant and sit at the same table where we had met. I thought it was a strange request but after coming here I realized what he wanted me to remember. I had forgotten - this car, this lifestyle, these fancy watches are all because of his one act of kindness.”

The man looked at the boy, desperation in his eyes seeking validation, understanding something. He sighed as the boy looked at him blankly. The boy couldn’t see where the man was going with the story. His mind was already on travel alternatives in case he missed his train. The man got out of the car after removing a white envelope from the briefcase by his side.

"I never came back to this place after I left the job, as I never wanted to be reminded of my past. But today at his funeral, I realized why he wanted me to sit at the same table - it was where it had all started."

The man extended the envelope to the boy.

"There is some money and my visiting card in this. Use this money to buy some clothes and shoes and come see me in my office next week. I promise you won’t regret it."

The boy stammered, “I… I... I don’t know what to say. I am not sure I should take this. Maybe you should give it to someone else.” He pushed the envelope back into the man’s hand. 

“Son, you will do me a favor by taking it. I look forward to seeing you next week. Be safe.”

The man pressed the envelope into the boy’s hand, patted his hand softly, and got back into the car. The boy spied his restaurant’s menu on the seat next to the man as the man rolled up the window and the car sped away into the night.