Only Human

Coffee splashed against the wall from the Styrofoam cup. A former baseball pitcher, Rex had aimed well. Fresh coffee ran down the wall over old coffee stains. A few people in the crowded break room flinched, but most ignored his outburst. They were used to it.

Anita ran to mop up the spill with a cloth. She stood and shook the crumpled cup at Rex.

“Get out of here, idiot. Don’t come back in here until you can act like a human being.”

He laughed and sat at a table.

Wyatt moved to Rex and murmured. “Let’s go. Take a walk. Cool off.”

After a moment, Rex stood and walked out with his friend.

They crossed paths with Cody who walked with them. “What’s all the commotion? Anita on another tirade?”

Rex smiled. “You could say that.”

“Too much coffee.”

They laughed. The three writers exited the copy-writing department and stepped out of the building. Their ties fluttered and whipped in the breeze.

Showing off his soccer moves, Cody kicked an empty soda can up the sidewalk. Each kick sent it dancing off the concrete in syncopated, staccato. Sometimes the wind held it suspended, before resuming its clatter.

Approaching for another punt, Cody took several short steps.

Rex called out, “Cody! Stop! Enough!”

Cody turned. “Oh… sorry. I was just…”

“I know what you’re doing. It’s done…”

Cody shrugged. They walked into the wind.

Rex stopped. The other’s turned.

“Where are we going?”

Wyatt said, “No place. I could use a coffee.”

He exchanged looks with Rex. They laughed.

Cody said, “Me too.”

Rex said, “Isn’t there coffee that way?” He pointed behind them.

Cody said, “G’round Fresh. Two blocks down. They’re great.”

“It’s down wind. I’m for it.”

They retraced their steps past their building.

Wyatt said, “People are talking, Rex. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Same ol,’ same ol.’”

“That new project?”

They walked in silence.

Rex said, “Of course. Why even ask? What else?”

“Couldn’t say.”

Cody said, “New project?”

“Yeah, a new style of carpet.”

“I wanted that. You need help?”

“No.”

“That new carpet account… egg whites?

Rex shook his head. “Eggshells. A passing fad. Egg crates will be the next rave.”

“Give it to me. I’ll run with it.”

“No one wants to run, or walk, on eggshells, Cody. Why they gave it to me. Doing the impossible is my forte.”

Rolling and bouncing, a ball of paper blew by them. Between gusts, it stopped and wobbled. And as if of its own volition, it raced forward again.

Cody pointed. “You see that?”

They watched it pause. Another gust sent it careening away.

Rex said, “It’s quieter than that damned can.”

Cody laughed. “Remember that old bit about the hundred-dollar bill hooked on a fishing line?”

The ball of paper paused again.

Wyatt said, “I think it’s flirting.”

“I’ve stooped lower for inspiration…”

Rex lunged and snatched it. He peeled it open and read.

“‘Only human’? …Is this a joke? Only human? I don’t think so.”

Wyatt said, “What are you talking about?”

“Look at this. It says, ‘Only human’! Who would settle for that grandiose title?”

Cody murmured, “I wish…”

Wyatt said, “it’s words on paper. You also seek guidance from fortune cookies?”

Rex dismissed him with a gesture.

Cody said, “You don’t get it. Humanity is the crown of creation. The pinnacle. The ideal of any living thing… I only wish…”

“That’s proof there’s no accounting for taste. What if other species discarded idealism in a Darwinian quest for survival?” No one answered. “I’m sorry. What are you wishing for?”

“That I could rise to that standard.”

“You’re kidding… Most so-called humans have barely outgrown mewling and puking. The mark of their maturity is what they choose to spew.”

“Well, I haven’t lived up to my ideals.”

“Ahh, yes, ideals… The problem is no one seems able to achieve their ideals without killing someone else. I love ideals, but please save me from idealists.”

Cody pointed to the cafe. “Coffee anyone?”

He held the door for the others. Wyatt ordered first.

Rex pressed on. “So, what keeps you from surpassing this absurdly low bar, Cody?”

“I’d rather not say. Terrible things. To feel human would be liberating.”

“What? Guilt because someone caught you being ‘naughty’?”

Cody ignored the question. He ordered his coffee and paid.

Rex said, “We’re born in tears, live by whining and die wishing for more. Have I missed something?”

Cody pointed to the order counter. “You’re being simplistic.”

Rex stepped forward. Wyatt and Cody retrieved their coffees.

Wyatt said, “Rex is in a mood today.”

“Yeah… He’s not usually so edgy.”

They raised their cups in a salute.

Rex joined them and continued. “I’m saying failures are what makes you human. Humanity celebrates what you consider failures. Whatever you’re faults, my guess is you’re better than most.”

Cody shrugged. He and Wyatt moved to an open table. Rex grabbed his coffee and joined them.

Wyatt said, “Self-loathing is not a recipe for happiness. You need some love in your life.”

Rex said, “Yeah, Cody.”

Cody chuckled when Wyatt said, “I was talking to you, Rex.”

“I hear love’s preferable to a car crash. You’re talking about when one mask adores another?”

“Or doffs it and gets real.”

“Revealing yet another mask… When did that happen outside a celluloid dream?”

“Who knows? You might be the first.”

Rex said, “What do you get when you peel back every layer of an onion?”

Cody blurted, “A salad.”

“Okay…” Rex pointed to himself. “Who would have this salad?”

Cody said, “It depends on the dressing.”

Rex wondered if Cody was tracking the conversation at all.

Wyatt refocused. “I get it. Moving on from roughage. Nobody’s perfect, Rex, but come on. You’re human. Your mother was human.”

Rex sipped his coffee. “Leave my mother alone. I’m pleased that I had ancestors, Wyatt, but I wouldn’t want to know any of them.”

Wyatt laughed. “Your mother?”

“What did I say? I think Swift said, ‘humans are the most pernicious race of vermin that nature ever suffered to let crawl on the surface of the earth.’”

Wyatt nodded. “Yes. A verbose Swift, posted over your door for years.”

“He was being kind.”

Wyatt and Cody smiled. Wyatt said, “Even if we agreed with Swift… but is that really how you want to look at life?”

Cody sighed. “Rex, anyone you don’t hate?”

“You’re my friends because we dislike the same people.”

Cody and Wyatt laughed.

“Rex, humans make bad choices, or destructive ones. But not always. They do good things too.”

Rex reached for his coffee. “Saints are just sinners with better PR. They’re worms too. Only more polished.”

Wyatt said, “Everyone has free will. Some choose to learn from their mistakes.”

“Freedom? I’ll trade you that for a sandwich. Something real.”

“What do you win when the prize is solitude?”

Rex leaned back. “Guys, this touchy-feely stuff leaves me cold. I’m fine by myself. Why do you care so much?”

Wyatt leaned in. “Honestly, I don’t care. Choose what you want.”

Rex smiled. He felt he’d won a point.

Wyatt continued. “You’re a good writer, Rex.”

“I know.”

“But you piss off more than Anita. And they don’t care about your talent. Complaints and lawsuits keep them up at night. They’d say you can take your superior attitude to the unemployment line.”

“Really?”

They nodded.

“You’re kidding… But I’m the best. Sorry guys… even better than you.”

“You could be Shakespeare and it wouldn’t matter.”

“But what can I do? There must be something… Help me…”

“Descend from Mt. Olympus. Be human. Own your faults.”

“Give me a break.”

“Be selective if you want. But treating people like crap doesn’t cut it.”

“I don’t know. Seems phony. I like my time. You’re tied to a wife and kids. That make you human?”

“No. But it helps. It’s a shared adventure. The partnership helps me to up my game.”

“Why would anyone choose to be ‘only human,’ if they could choose otherwise?”

“But they do choose. Everyone does. All day. Every day. Too many choose otherwise.”

~

They returned to the office. Rex found Anita reading the paper in the break room. She frowned when he entered.

“Hi, Anita. Can we talk? Is now, okay?”

Her single raised eyebrow said it all.

Rex said, “May I sit?”

Anita shifted. He sat.

“I’ll make it quick… I’m sorry about throwing the coffee this morning. I shouldn’t let personal frustrations out at work.” Anita stared. Rex kept going. “I need to up my game. What else I can do?”

Anita cleared her throat. “Treat everyone with the respect you expect. Whether they deserve it or not. They might surprise you.”

Rex clapped his hands. “Perfect. Great. I can do that. I will do that.”

“We’ll see.” She returned to her paper.

Rex cleared his throat. Anita looked up.

She said, “I’m sorry. I thought you had finished.”

“Another thing…”

Anita laid her paper down.

“Would you like… could I buy you a coffee some time?”

She looked at the vending machine.

He said, “I mean out. Relaxed, you know, where we can talk... like human beings.”

She cocked her head. “Someplace you won’t throw it at me?”

Rex stifled a laugh. “Of course. I mean, I wouldn’t do that. I want you to know another side of me.”

Anita gave Rex a long look. “That’s possible. But not today.”

Rex smiled and she smiled back.

He said, “Right. You’re busy and I have work too. We’ll leave it open then.”

“Next week?”

“Sounds good.” He stood. “And Anita? Thanks.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Rex turned and left the room with a lilt in his step.