A Quick Cup of Coffee

Isaac meant to take the trash out the previous night. He didn’t mean to get wrapped up in his book, but he did. It was the latest from Anthony Peiras, Isaac’s favorite author. Peiras was famous for two reasons. First, his books found their way to the New York Times Bestseller’s List and second, he had managed to keep his identity a secret. Even in this day of social media, tweeting, Instagram, and cell phone cameras, Peiras had managed to avoid his identity being found out. People didn’t even know if it was his real name. It didn’t seem to matter to the millions of avid readers around the world who eagerly bought and avidly read book after book that was written and published. His agent certainly didn’t seem to mind it either. Whatever commission Peiras’ agent was taking, it was certainly them a wealthy person, too.

Isaac went outside with the trash bag and dropped it into the barrel. He was still asking himself why he couldn’t have just taken the bag out last night. It wasn’t a difficult task. Then again, he was already up in his bedroom reading Japanese Paella. He was tired and it was late, and he was already laying down on his bed. The novel featuring a Japanese agent posing as a tourist in Spain and collaborating with the American government to find a fugitive terrorist was just too good to put down, even if it was just for a moment to take out the trash. The Japanese agent, Udo, was pretending to be a culinary novice with a taste for Spanish food that just happened to try restaurants in an area where intelligence had pinpointed the terrorist. The American agent assisting was the main character from another series penned by Peiras. It may seem a little far-fetched, but if anyone could take the story and make it believable, it was Anthony Peiras.

The trash was taken out. A new bag lined the wastebasket. Now, finally, it was time for coffee. Isaac reached for a filter out of the cabinet. Once the filter was in place, the tin was opened and ready for its contents to be scooped into the machine. Isaac closed the tin when his doorbell rang. He looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see who it was that had rung his doorbell. Isaac went to the door, wondering who could be at his door at this hour.

An older gentleman stood at the door. He was dressed in slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a blazer that held a pocket square. He had dark hair with spots of gray throughout. Hair that looked like it had been cut not too long ago.

“Hello,” the gentleman said. “I’m sorry, but I’m running late for a meeting and I can’t seem to get a signal. Is there a phone I could borrow?”

“Yes, of course,” Isaac said. “Come in.” He opened the door and allowed the gentleman inside. “I was just about to make some coffee. Can I offer you some?”

“Please,” the gentleman said as he entered.

“My name is Isaac.”

“Hello, Isaac. My friends call me Jeff.”

“Hi, Jeff. Nice to meet you,” Isaac said as he went to the kitchen to unplug his phone. Jeff remained in the living room. He was admiring Isaac’s bookcase and its contents.

“I see you’re an Anthony Peiras fan,” Jeff said.

Isaac walked into the living room with his phone and handed it to Jeff. “I am,” Isaac said. “I’m reading his latest right now.”

“Ahh, Japanese Paella,” Jeff said. “I just finished it.”

“Wow,” Isaac said, surprised. “That book just came out and you’ve already finished it?”

Jeff smiled. “Some of us get access before the rest of the world.”

Isaac pulled two cups out of the cupboard. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Sugar, please,” Jeff said. Isaac poured a cup for his guest and added sugar to the steaming drink. He stirred it and handed it to Jeff, who thanked him. Isaac then poured himself a cup and added some cream.

“A lot of people would like to meet him. Heck, I would like to meet him. I wonder why he keeps his identity a secret?”

“He’s not one for fanfare, “Jeff said. He wants people to read his books and know the characters. He doesn’t want them to start reading a book with any expectations. Sometimes someone will meet an author and they seem disappointed because they were expecting something else when they meet him.”

“Hmm…” Isaac said. “He seems reclusive, like J.D. Salinger.”

“Yes,” Jeff said. He blew on his cup and took a sip. “I told him this would happen if he avoided the limelight, especially when his books began selling. He didn’t want that. Anthony didn’t want to become another J.D. Salinger. He just wanted to write.”

“You know him?” Isaac said.

“I do,” Jeff said.

“Is that how you got an advance copy?”

Jeff took another quick sip before saying, “I’ve been following Peiras for a long time. We have the same friends; Friends who give feedback on his books and offer advice. Sometimes he takes it. Sometimes he doesn’t. That’s how he is, and it has clearly been working for him.” He then dialed a number on Isaac’s phone and put it two his ear. Two seconds later, he said, “David. It’s Jeff… I’m fine. I just wanted you to know I’m running a little behind, but I shouldn’t be too late. You won’t have to change anything. I’ll still be on schedule. I’m at a good Samaritan’s house. He was kind enough to offer me some coffee. I’m having a quick cup before continuing on my way… No, it’s alright. I just couldn’t get a signal on my phone and this gentleman happened to be out in his driveway… No, that’s alright. When I get back on the road, I’ll call when I get a signal… Right… Goodbye.”

Jeff hung up the phone and handed it back to Isaac. “Thank you,” Jeff said. “Your phone seems to work fine. I can’t understand why mine didn’t. Doug Jackson would have known how to make a call despite not having a signal.”

Isaac smiled at Jeff’s reference to Jackson, the American agent in Peiras’ series. “Lucky you happened to be in suburbia and not in a rough Spanish town.”

Jeff smiled and nodded his head. “That was certainly a place I wouldn’t want to be alone without a working phone, or an ‘Udo’ to team up with.”

“Jackson and Udo have certainly found their share of trouble.”

“How far are you into the book, Isaac?”

Isaac put his cup down after taking a sip. “I’m halfway,” he said. “The bartender he keeps talking to seems friendly.”

“So didn’t the lady sitting next to him,” Jeff said. “Too bad for her Udo is more interested in the bartender.”

“WHAT?!” Isaac asked, surprised.

“What? Oh, sorry. I guess you didn’t get that far.”

“I haven’t,” Isaac said.

“I won’t say anything else, then,” Jeff promised. “How about something safer? What about Peiras’ other books?”

“How about his first?” Isaac asked. “Great Scott”?

“Did you know he got the idea for that at a bar?” Jeff asked. “He was with a friend and there was a cover band playing that night. His friend goes to use the bathroom. When he got back, he was sitting at the bar writing stuff down on a napkin.”

“Just started writing notes?” Isaac asked.

“Right. He said something came to him. What if there was somebody minding his own business? He just wanted to get a drink. What if there was someone who just wanted to mind his own business, but trouble followed him wherever he went. No fault of his own. A guy can just live his life. Some situation needs a hero, and he has to be that hero.”

“No matter what,” Isaac said, “He has to be the hero.”

“It certainly makes for a good story,” Jeff said as he took a sip of coffee and put the cup down. “Poor devil.”

“So, it’s true he always carries a pen with him?” Isaac asked.

“Yes, it is,” Jeff said. He says you never know when inspiration will hit.”

“Incredible,” Isaac said. “To think someone can come up with stories like that from one little idea. It would be amazing to pick that guy’s brain. I think my favorite book so far by him is No Surprise. It didn’t have the usual plot twists his other books have, but I couldn’t put it down and the plot, I mean, I read that so fast. A literal page-turner. I’d love to know where he gets the ideas for his books.”

“Well,” Jeff said. “He’s an avid traveler. He visits foreign cities and goes sightseeing. He loves watching movies and he imagines what could have happened in cities, in subways, bars, cafes. What if this happened? What if this person was here? He’s the type of guy who sees a scene in front of him or in his mind and he is able to find a story to write.”

“Well,” Isaac said. “I’m glad he can. I enjoy reading his books. I wonder what it would be like if Doug Jackson existed in real life. Then again, the real life might be a little boring for him with everything he’s seen.”

“With all that ‘excitement’, a little boredom might not be so bad,” Jeff said. He finished his coffee. “Well, Isaac,” he said. “I really appreciate your help today. I need to get going. My partner wouldn’t want me to miss our meeting.”

Jeff stood up. His wallet fell out of his pocket. It bounced off the floor toward Isaac and landed in front of him open and showing the driver’s license. Isaac looked down at the exposed license and saw the name on it. He looked up at him, mouth agape.

“Anthony J Peiras,” Isaac said looking up from the wallet. “I should have known.”

Jeff smiled. “I’m glad you like the books. Thanks for the coffee.”