The Coffee Shop - 1. Chapter 1

It was a cold and snowy night when I left school after basketball practice. I jogged home, trying to keep warm. I enjoyed practice tonight; maybe it was because I knew this would be my last time playing basketball for my school. I’ve applied to several colleges, particularly those close to home. My grades are good, so I didn’t think I’d have any problems being admitted to the colleges that I had selected.

“Mom, I’m home.” I took off my snow-covered jacket and shoes, leaving them in the laundry room. I knew tomorrow I’d be up early shoveling out the driveway and the sidewalks. It was good to be home, mom was cooking dinner, and the smells made my stomach rumble. I took my school bag to my room and began to do what little homework I had. I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, leaving my evenings free to do what I wanted, whether it was watching TV or chatting with my friends.

I heard my dad entering the house, and I knew we’d be eating in 15 minutes. Washing up, I went downstairs to greet my father. As soon as he saw me, he told me he wanted me to clear the snow from the driveway and sidewalks. He wasn’t an easy man to know, and there was certainly no emotions shown. But that was my dad. After 17 years living with him, I expected no less.

As we were sitting at the table, I brought up the fact that my birthday will be here soon and I’ll be 18. This discussion led to me going to college and what subjects I’d be taking. My father insisted that I should go to his church-sponsored university and study to be a minister. We’ve had this discussion before, and I didn’t feel like getting into another argument. I decided to tell them the secret I’ve been keeping since I was 14.

“Dad, I can’t go to your church’s university. They wouldn’t allow me to enroll.”

“Why not? You have the grades, and I know Pastor Mathew would vouch for you.”

“Dad, I’m gay and gay people will not be allowed to go.”

There was a deathly silence. My mom’s face showed fear and displeasure, and my dad’s face turned red with rage.

“There will not be an abomination living in my house! You have 15 minutes to get what you want and get out! You are no longer my son, and this is no longer your home!”

I looked at Mom; she had her head down and was softly crying.

“You better hurry if you want anything because I’ll throw you out just like you are if you’re not packed!”

I immediately ran upstairs and took what clothes I could, stuffed them in my sports duffle bag, grabbed what money I had and my phone. I went downstairs, mom wasn’t there, and he was standing at the door. I got my shoes, boots, and coat and headed for the door. Dad opens the door, “Give me your phone. I paid for it, so I want it now!”

I gave him my phone, and he slammed the door behind me. I heard the lock click, and then I realized I was on my own. As I walked down the street, I tried to come up with some plan. I certainly couldn’t stay here any longer. As I was walking, I saw a bus coming. I ran to the stop and boarded. While I was sitting there, I thought maybe I’ll have enough money to pay for a bus ticket to somewhere warm where I could get a job.

When we got to the bus terminal, I went to the ticket window to see where the buses were going and the various fares. I realized I didn’t have enough money to get me to Florida, but I bought a ticket as far south as possible. I pocketed 10 dollars for snacks. I had no idea what I’d do when I got to the end of the bus ride.

I closed my eyes. I was tired and emotionally a wreck. I never thought my dad would throw me out of the house. It made me question if he ever loved me. How could you throw your son away like a bag of garbage? As these thoughts ran through my mind, my eyes were on the verge of tears. I always went to church, and I believed in a loving God, one not to feel hate toward His creations. I did the only thing I could think of on that bus ride. I prayed that He would send someone to look after me.

As I prayed, I thought of how my life was changing. I’m alone now and responsible for myself. Additional passengers got on at the next bus terminal, a young man who had just got on sat in the seat next to me.

As the bus pulled out of the terminal, he began to talk. His voice was masculine, and I’d bet if he sang, he would be a baritone. I remember in school when I’d sing in the choir; I always liked a baritone voice. He said his name was Paul and he was going home for the holidays. I told him my name and said I was just going on an adventure.

As we talked, I found out he was a sophomore in college and was studying to be a chemist like his father. He asked if I was in college, and I told him no, I was still in high school. We continued to chat about various subjects, more or less, just to pass the time. During these discussions, I let slip the fact that I was gay, and eventually, he realized what type of adventure I was on.

Checking the schedule, I noticed that I’d be leaving at the next terminal. I mentioned that my stop was coming up, and I’d be leaving.

“Well, this is a coincidence. That’s my stop as well. Where are you staying?”

I knew there was no way to tell him that I have no place and was planning on hitchhiking further south. But I guess my hesitancy must have told him that I had no place to stay. I think he began to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“Look, if you aren’t in a hurry, how about having a cup of coffee with me. I think we have more to talk about.”

I knew I had enough money left over from the $10 to buy myself a cup of coffee, so I agreed. Once we departed the bus terminal, he led me to a coffee shop across the street. “This is one of my favorite coffee shops when I’m in town.”

As we entered, the aroma of fresh ground coffee hit you immediately. As I looked around, there was a coffee roaster, roasting coffee beans. I knew that coffee beans were roasted, but it was fascinating to see it done. The aroma emitting from the roaster made you want to have a cup of coffee.

As we took a table, a young lady came to take our order. As soon as she saw us, “Paul, you’re home for the holidays.”

“Yes, Marie, we just got in. I had to bring Tim here for a cup of coffee.”

She left us to get our coffee. Paul looked at me, “Do you want a roll or doughnut with your coffee. They make a stuffed roll here that I guarantee you have never tasted anything so good.”

I knew I didn’t have enough money, “No thanks, Paul. Coffee will do just fine.”

“Nonsense, my treat; Marie, bring us two specials, please.”

Marie brought our coffees and the largest rolls I had ever seen. The aroma of the coffee and roll made me realize that except for the little dinner I had at home and a few snacks, I was hungry. Paul cut his roll in half, “Could you eat this other half? I had a big dinner before I left, and this is just too much for me.” Without me saying anything, he put the half on my plate.

Marie came back with coffee refills, “Marie, is she in the kitchen?”

“Yes, I didn’t tell her you were here. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to surprise her here or at home.”

“Just tell her there’s a customer who wants to thank her for the delicious rolls.”

I looked at Paul with a puzzled expression. All I got back was a wink.

In a few minutes, a woman in a chef’s apron came out of the kitchen and said something to Marie. She pointed to our table. The woman turned, and when she saw Paul, her face lit up in a big smile. She hurried to our table as Paul stood up. Paul gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. When Paul released her from his hug, she noticed me sitting at the table.

“Paul, who is your friend?”

“Mom, this is Tim, a fellow traveler.”

“Hello Tim, welcome to the coffee shop. I hope you enjoyed the coffee and roll.”

Paul spoke to his mother as he hugged her. “I’ll see you at home, Mom. I also asked Tim to stay with us for a while. Is that ok?”

“Of course, it’s ok. It’ll be nice to have two handsome men at home, particularly after you both shovel the snow from the driveway and the walks.” She walked back to the kitchen, chuckling.

“Paul, I appreciate your offer of staying, but I can’t accept. You know nothing about me, and I feel like I might be intruding on your time with your family.”

“Nonsense, it’ll be good to have someone around to help me shovel the snow. Anyway, we haven’t finished our talk, and I think you don’t have a place to spend the night. Come home with me, and tomorrow if you want to leave, then I’ll bring you back to the terminal or where you want to go.”

“Alright, just for the night.”

“Good. I’m going to tell Mom I’m leaving and I’ll be right back. Have some more coffee.”

I watched Paul going into the kitchen to talk to his mother; Marie brought me a refill.

Paul returns about 15 minutes later and puts on his coat. “Let’s go, and maybe we can get started on the snow removal before Mom comes home.”

As we left the coffee shop, we began to walk into the town. It was a small town and very quaint looking. Homes with large front porches lined the streets, a mid-America town. I expected to see a town square, and sure enough, as we turned the corner, there was the town square with a bandstand.