Coffee Shop (A Valentine's Day Story)

COFFEEE SHOP

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There was a young man with a crutch staring at me from across the coffee shop today.  Although we'd never met or spoken, I had the terrible feeling we were on a date.

            The day started out as a perfectly normal day.  It was a crisp, sunny morning, just warm enough to be comfortable.  I woke up early, pulled a dress from my closet (black, with small white polka dots), and shrugged a jacket on before stepping out into the day.  I had an hour before work started, and it was time for my weekly cup of coffee.

            The shop was one I knew well: a quaint, casual, privately owned establishment that played local artists and hosted monthly poetry readings, and the occasional talent show.

            The barista, doing her best with the outdated equipment, handed me my caramel macchiato with an apologetic smile, and I tipped her extra.  Then, with golden sunlight filtering through the windows, I took a seat on the ground floor and enjoyed the view. 

            The view which included, incidentally, the young man in question. 

            He sat alone at a small table, sipping a mug of what I presumed was black coffee.  He had a crutch with him- not the kind that goes under your arm, but the kind that wraps around your forearm.

            Dark blond hair of medium length framed an angular face which, though not what you'd call chiseled, left a definite impression of high cheekbones and a strong, clean-shaven jaw.  Freckles dotted his cheeks and a long straight nose.  His chin was tapered and smooth- no hint of a dimple.

            His clothing was not particularly remarkable (a dull red, fitted V-neck T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and shoes I thought might be Sketchers), though it did give me the impression that he enjoyed looking nice even when casual.  He was tall, I could tell, because his long legs stretched out much farther under the table than mine, and I wasn't short by any means.  

            From where I sat, I couldn't determine the color of his eyes: only that they were locked on mine. At first, I was embarrassed that he had caught me staring, until I realized he must have been staring at me first.  Fighting my rising blush, I smiled the bland smile one does after making accidental-eye-contact with a stranger, and turned to the side, burying myself in my coffee.  But I couldn't resist sneaking another sideways glance at him now and then, and every time, he was either looking at me already, or looked up just in time to catch my own gaze.

            He raised an eyebrow at me, a distinct and lively smile dancing on his lips, as he were laughing at me.  In fact, I was sure he was laughing at me.  And yet, that smile was one of a friend.  Of someone who knew me well, and only laughed because I made some sort of inside joke.

            Swallowing, I averted my eyes and stirred the macchiato.  It was just cool enough to drink, now, which was a relief as it gave me something to do!  Something other than endure the man's gaze--or risk returning it. 

            Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him chuckle softly and take another sip of coffee, thankfully turning so that he faced the window, just parallel to me.  We sat like that for a few minutes, until I was brave enough to hazard another peek above the rim of my cup.

            Though he still faced the window, I knew immediately he could see me peering.  He smiled again, then turned to face me fully before I had a chance to look down. 

            There was no point in denying it now- we were facing each other squarely, eye-to-eye.  I set down my cup and tapped my fingers on the table, and he did the same.  I felt the heat in my cheeks intensify, which was alarming in itself.  It wasn't as if I'd never talked to a guy before!  I'd had a boyfriend or two- which is not as many as most girls my age could boast- but it was a start.  I was certainly beyond the point of blushing and giggling with nerves like a sixth-grader.  Yet still I was seized by this unaccountable rush of self-consciousness.  I couldn't remember being this flustered ever before- not even at my first job, when they set me in front of a temperamental cash register without training and asked me to take the orders of a dozen waiting customers. 

            I licked my lips carefully- conscious of their slightly chapped surface- and blinked at the young man, trying not to let my eyes wander too obviously to the crutch at his side.  I wondered what he needed it for- an old injury, or perhaps a disability he'd been born with... 

            As we sat there, I was filled with the sudden alarming impression that we were on a date of sorts.  We had never met or even spoken before that moment, but we were here, less than twelve feet away from each other, enjoying our coffee and, evidently, each other's company.  Maybe if we were at the same table, he would ask about my family, or my favorite color, or what I liked to do on a typical Friday evening.  I would of course respond with a charming and tactful answer, then ask him about himself.  Did he like music?  What made him laugh?  What were his dreams?

            This peculiar impression was so strong, I found myself too embarrassed to risk looking at him again.  I faced the window instead, and gulped down the rest of my coffee before glancing at my watch.

            I had fifteen minutes to get to work.  Plenty of time, it was only a short distance away.  Still not looking at the staring man, I stood and gathered my things. 

            But when I turned for the door- he was gone.  He and his crutch and his unsettlingly-charming glances were just... gone.

            Startled, I hesitated before going to the door.  For half a second, the secret corner of my heart wished he would appear behind me and talk to me, but the second passed and I knew it wouldn't happen.  I was glad it didn't happen--what would we have said?

            So, tightening my grip on my purse and on reality, I left the shop and fled for work.

            I haven't been back to the coffee shop since then.  It's Saturday again, and I'm due for my weekly treat- but I'm still standing out here on the sidewalk, looking at the door.  There's only forty-five minutes before work this time, and I can already see he's not in there.

            But that clacking sound on the pavement... is that the sound of a crutch?

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Book Review: Ender's Game

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 In order to develop a secure defense against a hostile alien race's next attack, government agencies breed child geniuses and train them as soldiers. A brilliant young boy, Andrew "Ender" Wiggin lives with his kind but distant parents, his sadistic brother Peter, and the person he loves more than anyone else, his sister Valentine. Peter and Valentine were candidates for the soldier-training program but didn't make the cut--young Ender is the Wiggin drafted to the orbiting Battle School for rigorous military training.

But Ender is not quite like the other cadets, and his siblings are not finished trying to change the world.  When the three of them launch their own efforts to end the centuries-long war, nothing will ever be the same...

This is one of those stories where I saw the movie before reading the book.  Now, despite some pretty major differences between book and film, I the storyline was pretty-much the same.  What the movie misses, however, is the hugely important subplot that follows Ender's sister and brother--but more on that in the PROS and CONS sections.

PROS:

Ender's Game is a mysterious, exciting, and moving tale that delves into the psychology of the characters involved, which I very much appreciated.  The author explains just enough of the world that you don't get lost, but he doesn't seem to feel the need to tell you everything you need to know either.  There was a great deal that didn't quite make sense to me in the beginning of the book, and it wasn't until the middle and close to the end that I suddenly began to understand.  

The technology in this future is really interesting, and is made even more so by the fact that this book was written long before the internet ever entered the public use (or knowledge).  Yet the tech demonstrated throughout the narrative is oddly similar to what we have today!  

The competitions and warring factions that Ender encounters during training, as well as the schemes of his brother and sister on Earth, make for some very compelling reading. 

CONS:

There is some language throughout the book, as well as some nudity.  This nudity is for the most part innocent (and even to be expected), given that the characters are very young, and in a barraks-like situation.  However, it can be a bit crass at times, and I certainly could have done without it.

The characters in the books are very, very young.  Ender is six throughout most of the story.  Imagining six-year-olds doing what the book describes them doing is very difficult, both for practical reasons (they're so small!), and for psychological reasons (too young!).  This is made a little more understandable when it's made clear that these are not natural children, but genetically different from most of humanity.  

However, I also found it hard to read about the trials these kids faced on an emotional level.  The kids receive very little love or guidance from adults, and are left to face the cruelty of the world, the war, and each other on their own.  

This is one change I appreciated in the movie:  that they aged the characters up a bit.  It makes it a little easier to accept.

If you're a sensitive reader, be warned that this book is dark, and sad, in many ways.  Ender is an innocent and tenderhearted person by nature, but his training and education has been designed to turn him into a ruthless general (and killer).  He is in near-constant conflict with his heart and his mind, and if that kind of thing depresses you, there are other books you can read.

There is also some violence, though not terribly detailed or gory from what I remember. 

 **SPOILERS** At one point, it is revealed that Ender accidentally killed a fellow classmate, his own age, during a fight.  The reader knows how and when it happened, but Ender doesn't learn until much later, after the fact.  This is not so much a con because of the violence of the act, but rather because of its disturbing nature. 

Ender's brother Peter is also revealed to be a sadist, which in a boy of his age is quite chilling to imagine.**END SPOILERS**

OVERALL:

I know that the CONS section is way longer than the PROS, and it may seem like I don't approve of this book, but that's not the case.  I actually quite enjoyed Ender's game, and found that the positives outweighed the negatives as I read it.  

I would not recommend this book to young or easily disturbed readers.  There's a lot of dark content, and it can be upsetting.  There isn't a whole lot of light to be found here-- but it does end on a good note.  Love, Hope, and Forgiveness are not totally absent, and if you look close enough, as Ender learns to, you will find it.  

So if you enjoy war stories, studies of character and human nature, or sci-fi, then this book is definitely worth a read.  

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-Emmarayn Redding