Coffee at Dawn

It is already four o’clock, Joe tweaks his wedding ring; he can’t bear not to wear it. He has read the paper, chewed the fat with the veteran who comes each night with their stories of years ago. It has been quiet tonight, just the young girl left now. Her coffee is long finished, but she doesn’t appear in any hurry to leave.

He looks across at Jim reading yesterday’s paper. According to Jim, daytime is always busy. Night time is a different matter; kids often come early in the evening somewhere to hang out, young courting couples maybe, but once midnight comes, it is often the same lonely people seeking solace. Jim always calls it a place of refuge; that is why he never closes.

The clock ticks past four as he shifts his eyes to the young girl seated at the adjacent table. Most of the night she has been glued to her mobile, now she looks bored. Like many young people, she sports a nose stud and is wearing ripped jeans. Her creased T-shirt bears the words ‘Don’t like me? Do I care?’ How old is she? Could be late teens? He reflects on the transformations the world has undergone since his youth; no longer do the young care what they look like. Dare he speak to her? She might tell him to ‘get lost’ or worse. Still, nothing ventured.

“Excuse me, but I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t help seeing the words on your T-shirt, and it made me smile.”

The girl looks up, brilliant blue eyes just like Anna’s stare back at him.

“Yeah, well, it is right. Why does it matter whether people like me?”

“You sound like my wife; she always used to say that. Then again, it is nice to be liked, don’t you think?”

She looks him up and down, she is probably assessing whether he is what the kids call a weirdo.

“Why? You can’t make people like you, so why waste time trying? Like conforming so you fit in. Why the hell should you?”

He tries not to laugh; she seems quite passionate about her belief, and it would be nice to have someone to talk to other than Jim. Something about her pulls at him. Is it youthful confidence or arrogance?

“Can I get you another drink? I’m Joe, by the way,” he volunteers.

Nodding, she agrees.

“Sure, I’m Miranda, thanks.”

Jim moves to the tables.

“What would you both like? No, put your money away, Joe. These are on the house,” he says.

Settled with their drinks, Joe smiles at Miranda.

“Okay, I am interested. So, if someone doesn’t like you, you aren’t bothered? It’s difficult for me to accept that, considering the young people I know place a tremendous deal of importance on being well-liked. From a young age, the desire for acceptance is strong, and that feeling has persisted with me, I must admit.”

Adding sugar to her drink, it seems she is thinking about his words.

“No, why should I be? What is so important about being liked? Next, you will say it’s important to fit in, which is a load of bullshit.”

She doesn’t mince her words. Still, this could be an interesting debate.

“If someone doesn’t like me, I try to find out why and what I can do to make them change their mind. As for fitting in, I guess I fall into that category, although my wife was the opposite, very much her own person. She used to say, ‘Stop worrying about what folks think. Who cares?’ You remind me of her, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Miranda just shrugs.

“Surely it is more important to be yourself? All this fitting-in, being liked is a load of crap. It’s inevitable that some people will like you, while others won’t. It is like school. Fitting in is a common motivation for joining gangs and why? Join the school bully so you won’t be bullied, don’t dress differently or you will be the odd one out, don’t go against the grain all that is a load of bullshit. We are individuals with our own minds. Many people seem to have a prevalent urge to be well-liked and popular. Look at Facebook all the idiots who brag how many friends they have there and how many likes do they get on a post. For crying out loud most people they have on there they don’t even know who the hell they are. You see it all the time, even with older people. They are so desperate to be liked and accepted that they lose their identity.”

Her point was valid. He remembered his daughter crying as someone from college had a go at her because she said something she didn’t agree with. Instead of agreeing to differ, the others had followed the leader and turned on her, including her so-called best friend. The next day she had apologised, saying she was wrong and please don’t exclude me. Anna had been furious stating there had been nothing wrong in having a different opinion, but Sarah had told her she didn’t want to lose their friendships as then she would be on her own so it was better to go along with them.

Miranda watches him as he drinks his coffee. He might be old, but he isn’t past it. He shouldn’t be spending the early hours every day sitting in this cafe. Her voice rises.

“Don’t you agree we should be free to make our own choices, have our own opinions, walk our own path and be ourselves? Look at the eagle, how it soars. Alone, yet it thrives and is strong.”

Joe sits back; she is just like his late wife. Headstrong, knowing her own mind and full of life. He had just followed the crowd, doing what was expected. Meeting Anna hadn’t erased his need for acceptance or belonging. Recollections of her laughter, urging him to seize opportunities and pursue his desires. How he misses her.

“So, where is your wife? You said she used to say. I guess she isn’t around now?”

He takes a sip of coffee before fingering the biscuit at the side.

“She passed away five years ago. I have found it hard, I must admit. After finishing work in the late hours, I find it difficult to return to an empty home, so I come here instead. Many who come here in the early hours have experiences to share. The one thing that unites us is that we are all lonely.”

He guesses Miranda won’t understand that. How can a young girl understand what loneliness is? He has family and friends, but they all have their own lives. There is a difference between being alone and lonely. Would his next words make him sound sad?

“Jim and I watch the sunrise together. It was my tradition with Anna: greeting the sun. She always laughed, ‘New Dawn, New Hope’. I still remember the last sunrise we watched, the light catching her hair, her eyes sparkling full of life.”

Tears were forming; this wouldn’t do. He needs to change the subject.

“Anyway, what about you? What brings you here? You should be out having fun, not stuck here. It’s not a place for youngsters in the early hours.”

Was that a glint of mischief in those clear blue eyes?

“My fella bet me I couldn’t stay in this cafe from midnight, buy one coffee only and be the last person to leave after dawn. He reckoned I had no chance. According to him, some old geezer who never left until after sunrise is in every night. If I win the bet, he gives me fifty quid, so why not?”

Geezer! the young have such a way with words. At fifty-five, he felt far from old, though he recalled how anyone past thirty seemed ancient to him as a teenager. She had four hours to wait, as he left well after sunrise so would she stick it out? Anna’s face, with its impish gleam and daredevil spirit, crosses his mind as his eyelids fall. For a moment, he believes Anna is speaking.

“Life sucks at times, but the dark doesn’t break you, only if you let it. That is what my dad always says. So long as you aren’t hurting anyone, it doesn’t matter what others think. People don’t have to like you, and you don’t have to like them. Once you realise that then life comes a whole lot better.”

Just like Anna. She used to say the same things. He’s in a job he doesn’t enjoy. Saturday afternoons at football with his friends, their usual pastime. He isn’t that keen on football, but he has always done it since he was a kid, not wanting to be the odd one out. From childhood, he was driven by a need to be liked and accepted, which led him to agree with whatever anyone suggested. Sometimes it would annoy Anna; other times she would just sigh. You couldn’t cage Anna, a thing he realised after they were married. She might wear his ring, but she did what she wanted, not what others expected of her. His parents didn’t approve of her, but she had just laughed and said it wasn’t them she was marrying.

His coffee is going cold, still a flicker of light through the front windows shows it will soon be time for the sun to start its ascent. Jim moves toward the door.

“Are you coming over to watch it?” he says.

Miranda smiles, a smile that reminds him of Anna.

“Go on, join Jim and watch the sunrise. I have a message I need to send.”

Miranda’s eyes flicker to the clock, its hands ticking with the dawn. He excuses himself to join Jim, leaving her to send a message. Is it his imagination, or is the sunrise even more spectacular this morning, painting the sky with shades of blush pink and soft lavender before taking on glorious hues of striking red and burnished gold. Joe remembers Anna’s words, ‘New Dawn, New Hope.’ What is he waiting for? He has enough money to take early retirement. He can do some of the things Anna had wanted to do before her life had been cut short. Some of her ideas had been crazy. Sarah, now living in New Zealand, frowning and muttering, “It’s not the sort of thing your age group does. What will people think?”  For too long, he’d stuck to the predictable path, his days settling into a monotonous, uneventful routine. Shoulders back, he inhales the fresh morning air.

Miranda will win her bet, as he goes back to the table, she is standing up, slipping her T-shirt over her head. Another T-shirt is underneath, a different colour, but the same words. She holds the one she has removed.

“Forget the bet, I need to go, but here, take this.”

Before he can say anything, she has moved to the door, her warmth laughter filling the room.

“Look at the back, Joe.”

Turning it over, he smiles at the words, ‘I Live My Life for Me!’

The End