Small Talk

The old man enjoyed eating on the outdoor patio of this particular restaurant. Something about the fresh air really stimulated his appetite. It wasn’t on a busy street so it wasn’t terribly busy and the air wasn’t tainted with the acrid air of car emissions. The waitress walked up to his table where he was quietly reading a news paper.

“Are you ready to order, sir?” the waitress asked with a smile.

“I believe I am but if I could just have a few more moments. My daughter hasn’t arrived yet and I’d hate to get her order wrong, or have the food get cold before she gets here,” the old man responded.

“Of course, sir,” the waitresses nodded as she turned to walk to the next table. The old man thought for a split second and waved her back.

“Actually, I’m sorry. Would it be too much trouble to ask for a cup of tea before ordering any food? I’d like something to drink while waiting for my company to arrive.”

“Absolutely! What kind of tea would you like?”

“Oh, I’m not too picky. And could you kindly throw away this newspaper for me? Reading it always makes me so sad.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” the waitress said as she took the newspaper under her arm. “I’ll get you a cup of chamomile. It’s my favorite and calms me right down.”

“Thank you so much! I wonder if there was ever a time when being well-informed of current events wasn’t such a depressing endeavor. You’ve been so helpful, Sarah. Thank you, again.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sarah smiled and threw the newspaper in the waste bin. It was then that she realized that she had forgotten her name tag at home. Perhaps she had waited on the old man before and couldn’t remember. It’s unlikely but really the only explanation that made sense to her.

A small boy wandered around under the tables of the outdoor patio as if it were an endless forest made of plastic, metal, and bits of wood. The old man smiled knowing how lost the child was in his own little world. The boy saw the old man who pretended not to notice. The young boy inched his way out from underneath the adjacent table and just stared at the old man who was still pretending he wasn’t being watched by a pair of young eyes. His little hands held on to the chair he hid behind as if the floor were about to give way any second. His eyes just stared at the old man who seemed so familiar and strange at the same time. It was then the old man acknowledged the small boy’s presence, without looking up as Sarah served the tea. He thanked her as she left.

“You seem to be on quite the adventure, young man,” the old man said. The child coiled back out of shyness, trying to hide behind the chair knowing it was an utterly useless action.

“I don’t think I remember what it’s like to be as young as you,” the old man continued. The boy emerged from behind the chair. “But no one ever forgets what it’s like to go on an adventure! How are you, John? I don’t believe we’ve formally met.”

The boy’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be afraid of this stranger or polite to this man who somehow knew his name. There was something about the old man that led John to believe that he is to be trusted. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but John felt like he was talking to a best friend he never knew.

“Where’s your mother?” The old man asked. John turned towards a woman on the other end of the patio chattering away angrily on her cell phone. The boy didn’t say a word but the old man knew what he was trying to communicate. She was completely unaware that her son had wandered through a forest of tables and chairs to stumble upon a conversation with a familiar stranger.

“Do you know who I am, John?” The old man asked. John just looked at him with deepening curiosity until a tiny spark made itself known in his eyes. John was about to say something until the old man raised his hand to stop him. “No, I’m not Santa Claus though a lot of people make that mistake, a lot more often than I’d care to admit.” Now John had to solve the mystery of how this man not only knew his name but knew what he was going to say before he even said it. What sort of super powers did this old man have? John wondered.

“Well, I’ll give you a hint,” the old man answered. “I’m a scientist and an artist. I only created one thing that everyone recognizes but they wouldn’t know me if I was looking them right in the face. It’s okay though. I like being anonymous. Do you know what that means? Anonymous? It’s like being hidden in plain sight. You see, I don’t like seeking attention. Have you guessed who I am?” John nodded, no. “You’re a smart boy; I think you’ll figure it out.”

John looked at the old man and smiled a tiny smile.

“You think I’m odd, don’t you?” the old man asked. John didn’t respond, just kept on smiling. “It’s okay. I think you’re odd too. And that’s quite a compliment. Trying to blend in is wasted energy especially if it’s far from the type of person you want to be. But being yourself is as rewarding as it is difficult. Now to be yourself and remain anonymous—well, that’s one of the great balancing acts of life. You see, it’s a delicate thing to both stay out of the spotlight while being you because each and every person is unique and worth getting to know.”

The young boy’s mother began to yell into her cell phone still oblivious to John’s absence. The smile melted away from the child’s sweet face as the old man looked on at the mother.

“You know, John,” the old man said as if John’s mother hadn’t just been yelling in public, “I have many children. My oldest tends to be a bit of a troublemaker. We get into huge arguments, so large in fact that many people think we don’t like each other when in reality I love her as much as any of my other children. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

John was distracted and didn’t answer the old man. The old man took a sip of his tea and waited until the young boy turned back to him.

“Do you see that lovely young lady over there? The one wearing the red dress and talking to those gentlemen over there in the distance?” The old man asked as he pointed her out. “Her name’s Lucy. It’s short for something but I can’t tell you what. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you and if you did believe me it might frighten you, but the important thing is we’re here to have lunch because we love each other (even though we fight all the time). In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s hiding that conversation she’s having from me. She can be mischievous like that from time to time.

“Now, it’s not my place to tell you but I know why your mother’s yelling worries you and I know what she’s mad about. I know you haven’t seen much of your father lately and that’s a little bit of why she’s so cross all the time. But know that it’s not your fault. In fact, without you she would be entirely loss and I know that seems like a lot of responsibility for someone so young but the young are so much stronger than people give them credit for. She might yell at you when she’s angry but I assure you she’s not mad at you most of the time, and someone like you, John, you’ll know when she isn’t. Both your father and mother love you more than they thought they could love anyone and nothing, I really do mean nothing, can change that. But it’s a rough time for your parents right now. And those are the times that you have to be at your strongest because this next year or so will be rough for your family.”

John was scared but the old man held his shoulder and he somehow felt assured that all would be okay, that he was never really alone as long as he was there for his mother. The young boy still couldn’t fully understand how this old man knew any of this but he was more worried about his mother. John smiled at the old man before being grabbed by the arm and turned around violently and abruptly.

“Johnny! What did I say about wandering off? Sometimes you’re nothing but trouble I swear to--” she stopped herself as she realized her son was talking to an old man. Her voice lowered as she addressed him. “I’m so sorry about him. He won’t bother you again. Isn’t that right?” She said that last sentence forcefully as she stared at the boy intensely. John looked at the old man and back at his mother.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” the boy finally said in a register just above a whisper. “It won’t happen again.” He wrapped his arms around his mother’s waste. She was caught off guard and didn’t know how to respond except apologizing for John’s behavior.

“I’m so sorry he bothered you. He can be--” she was cut off by a simple hand gesture from the old man.

“It’s quite all right,” the old man said, “In fact, your son is quite the conversationalist. You two must talk a lot. And he was no bother, just a curious boy looking to go on an adventure underneath patio furniture. And congratulations by the way!” He added. “John here told me how excited he was about getting a baby…” The old man looked at John’s mother expecting her to finish the answer.

“Thank you,” the mother replied, “But I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl. We wanted it to be a surprise but my husb--” she got choked up and held back tears. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word “husband.” Her eyes wandered down to John’s eyes and she couldn’t help but smile.

“It was nice meeting you,” the old man said. “And it was an honor to know you, young John.”

“Likewise,” the mother said. John waved as the two walked down the street.

Lucy walked towards her father and kissed him on the cheek as she put her purse on the empty chair across from the old man.

“Hey, dad,” she said. “I’ve got to go freshen up. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure thing, Luce,” her dad responded. “Wait a minute, who were those gentlemen you were speaking to just now?”

“Nobody, but I’ll tell you all about it when I come back. It’s actually a funny story,” Lucy said. The old man saw Lucy toss a pamphlet into the waste bin where his newspaper was also thrown. As he waited for his daughter to return, the old man reflected on how much he always enjoyed small talk.