The Hummingbird Cafe

           On a hot Wednesday afternoon, with the heat rising off the pavement like fog, a huge RV lumbered into town making a clackety noise as it drove down main street and came to a rolling halt at the Methodist church across the street.

           Angie flipped her magazine shut and began wiping down the counter, as she watched a woman emerge. The woman had bright red hair piled onto her head, which had to be held in place by a million bobby pins and a bottle of hairspray. She was wearing a bright floral blouse with neon green capris. No one much came to Perryville, NC population 836, so Angie was rapt with attention.

           Angie’s long dark hair was swept into a sensible ponytail, exposing her array of earrings in each ear. The bluebird tattoo on her forearm looked like it was flying as she ran the rag over the Formica counter, back and forth.

           Angie was drawn to the woman across the street and a sensation like hope burned in her belly. She had no idea why she was taken with her, but she willed her to come into the Hummingbird Cafe where she worked.

           The next thing Angie knew the woman was walking purposely across the street right toward the cafe. Her perfectly made-up face shone in the heat and she had a big smile on her face.

           The cafe door chimed as she walked in and Angie had a sense of Deja vu as her eyes swept over her, like their souls knew each other.

           “Hello,” Angie greeted her, setting aside her rag.

           “Hi, Darlin’,” she gushed. “I need something sweet,” she said, taking a seat at the counter, her ample bosom claiming space on the countertop. “What do you recommend?”

           It was quiet in the cafe. Brenda was in the kitchen planning her menu.

           “The hummingbird cake is our specialty,” Angie told her. “Can I get you something to drink?”

           “An icy cold glass of water would be delightful. Thank you, and I’ll take a piece of that cake.”

           “Did you drive that RV by yourself?” Angie wanted to know.

           “I surely did. Bertha and I have travelled a lot of miles together.”

           “Bertha?”

           “That’s the name of my RV. Big, isn’t she?” Sheila glanced at it and smiled.

           It barely fit in the church parking lot, taking up most of the lot.

           “I hope it’s okay I parked at the church. Your main street is much too narrow to park on.”

           “Pastor Karl is on vacation and since it’s only Wednesday, I don’t see a problem.”

           “Aren’t you a cutie,” Sheila smiled. “Are you old enough to work here?”

           “I’m 20,” Angie laughed, hating that she still looked 15. With no make-up and a sprinkle of freckles across her fair skin, she could pass for younger.

           “Your make-up is so pretty,” Angie admired, cutting a thick slab of the cake.

           “Thank you. This looks delish,” she said, as Angie set down her order. “What’s your name?”

           “I’m Angie,” she said, feeling the heat rise to her face. She didn’t much like attention to herself

“Well, I’m Sheila,” she announced before sliding a forkful of cake in her mouth. “Mmm that is good. I taste bananas and pineapple and maybe a little cinnamon.”

“It’s Brenda’s recipe. She owns this place,” Angie told her.

“I may be in town for a few days - my Bertha is acting up, but I’ll definitely be a customer. Can you recommend a mechanic around here?”

           “Rusty is your best bet. You passed his place on your way in,” Angie informed her. “And not just because he is my ex. Rusty can fix anything.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Sheila said, taking another large bite of cake. “I love your earrings, by the way.”

“Thanks. I made them,” Angie said, absently fingering them.

“Ah, I can always sense another creative spirit,” Sheila smiled. “It takes one to know one.”

“Do you make jewelry too?” Angie asked, pleased to be called creative.

“No, but I’m a knitter. I even occasionally teach a class. I participate in craft shows around the country.”

“It must be nice travelling to new places. I’ve never been further than Georgia.”

“I’ve always wanted to travel and when my sweet Henry passed away, I realized life is too short to have regrets. Well, this was so nice, but I need to go get my Chase. He’s hankering for a walk.”

“Who’s Chase?” Angie asked, settling her bill.

“My little terrier. He goes everywhere with me.”

“Well, thank you for coming to the Hummingbird. I hope to see you again,” Angie said, truly meaning that.

“Thanks for the hospitality, Darlin’. I’ll be back for sure,” Sheila said, plopping down a nice tip.

Angie watched her disappear around the RV and emerge a few moments later with the tiniest dog, Angie had ever seen.

That night as Angie sat hunched over her table making her jewelry, she found herself humming. The spark of a forgotten dream awoke in her and she directed this new energy into her craft. She thought about Sheila travelling alone in her RV with her little dog and smiled. Could she ever be brave like that?

The next morning as Angie headed to the cafe to open for the breakfast shift, she found Sheila sitting on the bench out front, knitting with her little dog, Chase peeking his head out from her purse every now and again.

“Morning, Darlin’,” Sheila greeted, following Angie inside. “Can I bring my Chase in here?”

“I don’t see why not, as he doesn’t take up much space,” Angie told her, as she flicked on the lights and started the coffee. “Maybe not mention it to Brenda,” she advised.

Sheila slid into a booth and resumed her knitting right where she left off.

“Rusty dropped me off,” Sheila told Angie. “He sure speaks highly of you.”

Angie wrinkled her nose and handed Sheila a menu. “He’s always full of talk,” she dismissed this news.

“He’s a very nice man, I can tell,” Sheila commented, as her fingers whirled away with her needles.

           “Rusty doesn’t ever want to leave Perryville,” Angie told her, setting down some creamer. “I want to see more than this town for the rest of my life,” she confided, sliding into the booth across from her.

“And you should,” Sheila told her, looking at her, but never pausing her knitting. “Everyone should get a little taste of life before they settle in one place. Then when you come home it feels like home.”

“Have you ever been to California?” Angie inquired, her eyes big with wonder.

“A couple of times,” Sheila said, as she cast on stitches. “But this is pretty country too.”

“Oh, I know,” Angie admitted, getting up to get the coffee. “But I want to see something new!”

“Are you in school?” Sheila asked, slipping Chase a treat.

“Not right now. I took some classes at the community college, but I like making things the best. I did take a jewelry class and I made this ring,” Angie proudly held out her hand.

“That’s lovely,” Sheila said, never missing a stitch.

“How do you do that without looking? Angie asked, watching the swiftly clacking needles go in and out.

“I’ve been doing this for a really long time.”

“What are you making?”

“A squiggly hat,” Sheila said, pausing and showing her a picture. “It’s for kids.”

“Oh, how cute,” Angie gushed. “I think I heard Joey come in. Can I get you some breakfast?”

Angie took Sheila’s order as the regulars began to arrive and she got busy hustling.

Sheila stayed through lunch acquiring a crowd of onlookers being that she was new.

“Do you ever take anyone with you when you travel?” Angie asked, over her break.

“Oh, sure, sometimes. My besty, Hildy used to travel with me, but now she takes care of her grandkids.”

“Where are you headed next?”

“I’m getting ready for a show in Pennsylvania next month, so I’ll probably head north,” Sheila informed her, as she gracefully cast on stitches for a new hat.

Sheila hung around a bit longer and then Letty McNichol offered to give her a lift back to her RV.

“This town sure is friendly,” Sheila commented on her way out.

The next couple of days, Angie found Sheila and Chase waiting for her outside the diner. Everyone was interested in the newcomer, so Angie had to share her time with Sheila.

“You must live close by,” Sheila commented one day, when Angie came around the corner.

“Yeah, I live with my Mom and little brother just down the street.” Today her long, dark hair was in a french braid and she’d stuck a flower behind her ear on impulse on the way in. Angie felt full of hope, like things were about to change for her. She couldn’t wait to hear more stories from Sheila about her adventures.

“What a lovely dress,” Sheila told her. “You look just darlin’.”

Angie dressed carefully that morning, feeling happy and excited for life.

“Rusty said my Bertha will be ready tomorrow morning,” Sheila told Angie on one of her breaks.

Immediately Angie’s mood deflated. She wasn’t ready for her inspiration to leave. Sheila made her dreams seem possible.

“I don’t know how your family would feel about this, but I sure could use a helper,” Sheila said, sensing her mood change.

“You mean go with you?” Angie’s eyes got big.

“Sure. You’d have to pay for your expenses, but I could use the company and the help with the craft shows.”

“I don’t know,” Angie said, suddenly looking around the cafe.

Brenda overheard and came over to top off Sheila’s coffee. “You’ve been wanting to get out of this town for years,” she said. “You’re my best worker but you know Cathy Timberly has been wanting a job.”

“I have saved up money,” Angie whispered, as she warmed to the idea.

“You can come home whenever you want,” Sheila provided. “But I think we’d get on real well. Maybe you could even sell some of your jewelry at the show. See how you like it?”

Angie’s eyes sparkled and she began to glow. She recognized this was a life changing opportunity. Was she finally ready to be brave?

The next morning as Bertha rumbled down the road heading out of town, Perryville’s population was one less. Angie could barely contain herself as the locals gathered to see her off. Even Rusty nodded at her, like he knew she was meant for bigger things.