Nighthawks

The door of Phillies lunch-room opened and a man and a woman came in arm-in-arm. They sat down at the counter.

“What’s yours?” George asked them.

“Go ahead hun, tell him,” the woman said to her companion.

“What’s your best?” The man asked, removing his sharp derby and placing it on the counter.

“Well, we got a big dinner with roast pork tenderloin but we don’t sell it after 10,” George replied.

“Well it’s just past 10,” the woman protested, glancing at the clock on the wall behind the counter.

“It’s slow, by about 20 mins” George informed her.

“Let’s just say, it’s 10” the male companion said, sliding a five spot across the counter.

George pocketed the money. “Never had 10 come ‘round here so slow before.” He replied, grinning. He turned to the slit in the wall. “Sam, 2 tenderloin dinners.”

Sam ducked his head to look at George, “It’s pas’ ten.”

“Ain’t you reading the clock?” barked George.

“Yessa” Sam replied tiredly and presently dished and served the tenderloin dinners, placing them in the serving slit, he rang the bell.

“Here we are, straight from heaven to your mouth. The whole block comes for this, they all come to eat the dinner, you know.”

The woman clapped her hands like a child, “Wonderful! Something to keep me warm tonight.” She glanced at the man who gave her a sly look in reply to her comment.

“Got anything to drink?”

“We got some coffee, hot ‘n fresh.”

“Sure”

George bustled about getting the coffee cups. The door opened and a lone man came in and sat at the counter kiddy corner to the couple.

“I’ll take a cup, if you mind, George”

“Well, ain’t you Al! I hadn’t seen you since youse came back from the war! Anyone ‘round here thought you were a goner as soon as you left.” George shook his head in delight, pouring cups of coffee and doling them out.

“Luck had me this time” Al said unbuttoning his shabby overcoat and placing his well-worn homburg on the counter beside him.

“First time I’d ever heard you got any luck whatsoever” George jokingly replied.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Al muttered, lighting up his cigarette and taking a drag.

A loud crash came from the kitchen.

“Dammit, Sam.” George swore under his breath.

“Go ahead Georgie, I’ll keep a watchful eye”

“It being you and your luck, I expect the place to be robbed by the time I get back.” George threw back over his shoulder as he walked through the kitchen door.

“Say, got a spare smoke?” the woman inquired of Al.

Al looked at the dame. She had on a sleek red dress that matched her rust colored hair. The neckline plunged past decency and she helped the wandering eyes of any gent by leaning seductively forward towards whoever she was talking to. Al reached into his pocket and passed his cigarette holder towards the couple.

“You got yourself a gal?” She inquired, lighting up.

“Doris, leave the man to his coffee,” the other half of the couple said, possessively snaking an arm around her waist.

“I can fix you up a date tonight if you're looking” She offered to Al, ignoring the man.

“No thanks, I’m fixin’ to meet my girl tonight, actually,” said Al feeling uncharacteristically chatty due to his nerves. “We haven’t been talking for a few years.”

“Ya hear that, Max? Sounds like real true-blue love, don’t it?” Doris chuckled looking toward her companion.

“Sure.” Max said, sipping his coffee, disinterested.

“Why ain’t you been talking?” Doris asked. She had turned her attention back to Al.

“Well, I suspect she was tired. I wasn’t the best man when we had been getting together. I was a bit of a crumb by her account. Bet early and lost just as fast, drank fast and got drunk just as early. I was living fast an’ lose. But I’m a changed man now.” He seemed to puff up a bit. “Got a sure thing this time around.”

“Glad to hear it.” Max said to end the conversation.

“Don’t mind Max, he’s just a pill. Say, what do you think you’ll say to her after all this time?” The woman clearly was a gabber, but Al was feeling a bit of relief to have someone to talk to.

“Well I’m hoping she’ll give me another chance.”

Max cut in suddenly, “Women don’t want chances, why should we? You get a gal and if she don’t wanna keep you, you get another.”

 “Well, I think it’s swell. What a romance, isn’t it Max.” the woman gabbed, tipping a bit of something into her coffee from her purse.

“Pah, a real man has no time for romance. That’s for girls and their silly fantasies.”

“Well romance or not,” Al cut in. “I’m going to do right by her this time.” He glanced at the clock above the counter.

The woman put down her red lip stained cup. “Ain’t that precious. Get your gal a necklace and she’s sure to forgive you no matter what, ain’t that right Max.”

“Hmmm,” he replied non committedly.

“Every time Max’s wife has in on him he gets her a new piece.” she pouted conspiratorially to Al. “I ought to get mad once in a while to.” She leaned in towards her companion jokingly. Al glanced down at the couples’ mismatched hands.

Max put down his coffee cup. “A man just needs to have confidence. Money and Confidence. Ain’t a broad in the world who don’t want confidence...and if that don’t work, money will.”

“Isn’t it now,” agreed the redheaded Doris as she pour a bit more of her purse flask contents into the dwindling cup of coffee.

Al glanced at the clock again. Despite it being years, it still felt like yesterday when he last saw his girl: bright, and fresh as a sunflower on a hot august day. He remembered her delight when he first bought her a ring with his first ever pay. It was a simple silver band, but she had clapped her hands in delight and gave him a shy kiss on the cheek as a thank you. Even through the great war they had remained sweethearts, exchanging letters and promises for the future. But life wasn’t so simple. He came back from the war a changed man, shaking and shell-shocked from his time in the trenches, with a persistent ringing in his right ear. He had tried to give her the world, but with an irrepressible sense of his own mortality, he was always looking for the fastest and easiest ways to do things. He had gambled his small life savings, trying to make it big. He made hundreds of promises, promises he had meant to keep, but had always somehow failed to do so. Al rubbed his slightly balding head guiltily. He knew this might be his last chance.

Al took one last look at the clock on the wall. It was 10:15.

“Well, folks. This is it. My sink or swim moment.” Al said. Standing up he shook his arms through his well-worn overcoat.

“Good luck! Win her heart back!” exclaimed Doris.

“Where youse twos meeting, anyway?” inquired her companion in an uncharacteristic pique of interest.

“At the train station down the road. She’s said she won’t wait for me before getting on the train so I’m fixin’ to meet her a bit ahead of time.” He smoothed his remaining hair down as best he could. This time he would keep his promise. This time things would be different. He would do things the right way this time around.

George came through the kitchen door, shaking his head, clearly exacerbated at what had transpired in the kitchen. He rubbed his hands on his apron and looked towards the patrons.

“Thanks for the coffee, Georgie. I best be going now, I’ve got a train to catch.” Al put his 5 cents on the counter. He placed his homburg on his head and made for the door.

“I’ll be seeing you around!” George called back.

 The door swung shut and a lone figure walked out into the night, shoulders bunched to stave of the chill. A fog had rolled in and shrouded the street lights. The soft orbs lighted the figure as he made his way up the street.

Doris looked out the window at the shrinking figure until he turned out of site. “Ain’t it swell, Max.” She sighed to herself. “Imagine bein that in love.”

“hrumph. He’ll learn sooner or later there’s no such thing as love.” Max finished his coffee.

“Best be getting on soon, if you plan to take a taxi. Taxi stands close at 11,” Geroge advised. He cleared the counter were Al had been sitting, leaving nothing behind.

Doris looked at the clock and back out the window. Tears forming in her eyes. He might just be the unluckiest man in the world.

The clock kept ticking relentlessly forward.