A Night at the Cafe

A Night at the Café
         “I will not give up on you…” Bebo Norman’s deep soothing voice accompanied by the ethereal sounding of guitar and piano rushes in to my ears, caressing my mind and my surrounding with warmth. I am sitting in the corner of the Café next to the transparent glass-wall. In front of me are dozens of small round tables with chairs clustered around them. The soft lights in the ceiling spotlight the green, blue, and brown table tops, leaving the chairs in a shade of gray. I am sitting in such a shade just as life is, where nothing is absolute.
         The once animated room has died out with the fading of the sunlight. Only a few visitors are still enjoying their reading under the spotlights. A little to the right in front of me sits a young man. Dressed in saturated blue jeans and a dark brown shirt, and with a carefully shaven beard, he seems to be a neat person with a type A personality. Possibly having hearing difficulties, his left ear is tightly clutched by a black earphone that connects to a control hidden in the pants’ pocket. Meticulously analyzing each page of the practice booklet, he could be a college student cramming for a standardized exam. Reading one page after the other, he scribbles once a while in his notebook, unaware of my stares.
         The weather in Saint Louis has become more and more capricious much like the unpredictable temper of a bratty child. Few hours ago it was still clear sky and dry roads, but now it’s a curtain of liquid pouring down from the sky. Gazing blankly out into to the world consumed by darkness and rain, he gradually lays down the pen and stops turning the page. For a transient moment, his life seems to be flashing in the abyss outside: the careless childhood, where dad held him up to the basket as he dunked the basketball; the savory sweet strawberry pie tangoed with his tongue in grandmother’s backyard; the innocent and embarrassing first date with his long term crush only to find that he likes the best friend who ignored her own feelings and set him up on the date; the unbearable pain and anger after dad’s deadly heart attack at his State basketball game, and ever since he hasn’t step on the court; the choking regrets of the breakup and his cowardly act of not chasing after her but only starring at her disappearing shadow; the abjectness and exploding hatred towards the world when he started to losing his hearing ability; the rediscovery of hope and love for life after his magical connection with god. Suddenly, realizing his act of dozing off, the young man quickly recollects his gazes and dives into the practice booklet again. One page after another, words after words, he continues to study under the soft spotlight, unaware of my stares.
         The rich smell of coffee beans permeates the almost abandoned Café while the incessant orchestration of rain drops fills in the emptiness. Swiftly, another tabletop is cleared out. It’s almost midnight. I’ve been here for hours, but he has been here for a even longer time. Breaking the romance of this nostalgic night, a gritty male voice announces the closing of the shop. My body is cemented to the seat, unwilling to trade the warmth of the Café for the coldness and wetness outside. Let me stay in this shade of grey a little longer.
         “Ah, yes, finished!” He exclaims with arms stretching into the amorous air. Packing things together, he stands up and abnegates the spotlighted tabletop. No longer looking only at his back, I can locate the other earphone in his right ear and can catch the beating rap music as he passes my table. Under his right arm, he clutches the practice booklet with the red bolded letters of SAT on the cover- he’s a high school student. Walking over to the register, he says goodbye to the attendant who’s also dressed in a dark shirt and blue jeans. Then the flashing employee ID hanging below his waist bore into my eyes- he works here. My eyes roll to the exit as his shadow joins the darkness of the night. Laughing lightly, I notice the unoccupied tables and chairs around me. Quickly I gather my things and reach for the door. Before the coldness and wetness pierce my dulled senses, I turn to take a last look at the emptied shades of grey, savoring this night at the Café.