Café Shira by David Ehrlich

Author:David Ehrlich
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780815655497
Publisher: Syracuse University Press
Published: 2022-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

Avigdor

Surrounded by people, utterly alone.

Avigdor is standing at the entrance to his café, listening to the hiss of the espresso machine. Ruhama Shittin is sitting nearby, her brow wrinkled in a typically anguished look. He spots Raymond and immediately recognizes he’s in distress because they’ve taken his table, and it’s none other than Yahel. How could one fail to notice Yahel, who once worked here as a waitress, and the little girl playing under the table must be her daughter. In a moment, he’ll have to gush over the child, how cute, etc., etc., but he doesn’t have the strength for all the cute kids, all the pests and poets, all the Ruhama Shittins with their big words, the Raymonds with their temper tantrums, the million customers or workers, or the people with ideas or the ideas with people, or the sales reps or suppliers, or the people raising money for the deaf and the blind, or the peddlers, or the passing guests or the guests who stay on forever, nor does he have the strength for the growing stream of candidates for table-waiting jobs, all of them young and hungry for work and ready to eat him alive, nor does he even have the strength for the coughing and gurgling and buzzing of the espresso machine. “You’ve got to treat it like a woman,” Justin from Louisiana used to say, but Justin came and went, and Avigdor is still here.

And amidst all this annoying clamor, the sound of glass shattering.

If he goes in, he’ll have to find out what broke and why. Rutha with her two left hands. So what’s he going to do, fire her? If he hasn’t gotten rid of her yet, he probably never will.

It’s a moment of decision. He’s got to go in and take on this mass of tasks, like an aging porter lifting an enormous refrigerator.

He’s got no choice, this is his burden, no one can bear it for him, and the fact that he is neither willing nor able makes not a bit of difference.

But before anyone notices him, he turns around and leaves.

He has several possible escape routes, but he’s so tired, so in need of coffee that, unhesitatingly, he takes a familiar path down three streets and three alleys, across two squares, past a fountain, and up a pedestrian mall to another café.

In the other café, he puts on a cap and sunglasses. It’s not that he’s hiding from anyone. Even if he wanted to, the nags would spot him somehow. He’s hiding from himself.

In the other café, he orders a double espresso from a gracious, heavyset waitress. No, he doesn’t want her to strike up a conversation with him. He doesn’t want to hear what she has to say about the weather. He doesn’t want to tell her about his life or hear anything about hers. What he wants is coffee and a table and some peace and quiet. That’s all he wants.

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