The man brought the heavy mug of cappuccino to his lips as he idly looked around the coffee shop, taking in the cross-section of society that frequented Java Joe's

The Misfits

The man brought the heavy mug of cappuccino to his lips as he idly looked around the coffee shop, taking in the cross-section of society that frequented Java Joe's. As always, everyone was striving to avoid eye contact with anyone else. When he'd first started his regular weekend sojourn there, he'd mistakenly tried to engage the other patrons in conversation. Each and every person that he'd tried to talk with had left him in no doubt about his or her willingness to speak. Still, he did feel a sense of camaraderie or belonging, both with the place and its regular clientele.

He tried to figure out what it was that made him feel that he fitted in here, in this particular coffee shop, with these particular people. In truth, he'd never really fitted in anywhere before or with anyone before for that matter. He'd always found himself on the periphery of things, observing life from the outside, seemingly unable to find a way to actively engage and take part in it. "Maybe that is what it is", he though to himself. "Maybe I fit in here, with these people, because we're all the same; we're all misfits of one sort or another".

Outside, on the sidewalk, fat raindrops fell with a splosh and the cold, autumnal wind blew through the strip mall, lifting and swirling discarded candy wrappers along with the reds, oranges and greens of fallen leaves. He felt a chill as he thought of how he'd be stepping back into that shortly, the wind and the rain chilling him in a way that would stay with him long after he'd returned to the relative comfort of his spartan apartment.

He looked down into his drink, trying to determine whether it was half-full or half-empty. He smiled to himself as he decided that it was definitely the former. Maybe he should get himself a little something to go with it, a piece of pie or a pastry maybe. After all, it wasn't as if he had to be anywhere; he could stay here as long as he wanted.

As he made his way to the counter, he looked over at the elderly woman sitting at the next table, taking in the long-cold coffee that she still nursed in her liver-spotted hands. His eyes traversed her frail, worn-out body with its frail and worn-out clothing, none of which suggested comfort or warmth on such a bleak night. He felt her eyes meet his own and the shared glance that held until he felt compelled to look away. He'd seen all that he felt he could take in her tired and rheumy gaze.

"Blueberry or chocolate chip muffin?" the barista barked. He looked at the wider selection of goodies in the glass-fronted cabinet but something stopped him from asking for anything other than what he'd been offered. "Blueberry" he heard himself replying, a cold chill running through his body as he instinctively felt that he'd been here before, had done the same thing and would do so again. Still shaking his head a little, he took his muffin and started to return to his table.

As he passed the elderly woman, he found himself putting down the muffin in front of her. No words of explanation or encouragement came from his lips and no words of surprise or appreciation came from hers. He sat back down and watched as she greedily devoured his gift, as it was the first food that had passed her lips in a long time (which in truth, it was). There was no taking his eyes away from her as she ate, no discomfort for either of them as he stared at her scrawny neck, watching the food sliding down to her gullet.

The spell lasted until she finished the last morsel and he suddenly found himself feeling very embarrassed. He rose quickly and made his way to the door, hoping that he could avoid any possibility of attempted conversation. Before he could make good his escape however, he sensed that she was standing at his side, silently imploring him to turn and face her. Reluctantly, he did so and he found himself gazing into her eyes once more. Her thin lips slowly parted and he found himself holding his breath as he waited for her words. "Thank you, David - it's been a long time".

He found his hands reaching out for hers. Finding them, he was surprised that instead of the cold, dry and bony flesh that he'd expected, they were soft and warm, with a innate strength that belied her gaunt frame. Without understanding where the words came from, he heard himself replying "it's ok, Caitlin, it's ok". Profuse tears welled up in his eyes and for a moment he thought he saw an altogether different woman in front of him, someone who looked as familiar to him as his own reflection.

Feeling the need for cold, clean air to clear his dizzying head, he turned and stumbled out of the door into the frigid blue-grayness of the night. He shivered involuntarily and pulled the collar of his overcoat up around his ears. His hands froze in mid-air as he realized that he had instinctively known the woman's name, just as she had known his. What seemed even stranger was that as he considered this fact, he found that he didn't feel it was mysterious or unsettling. It was as if he had always known her and was now meeting her again after a long, long time apart. He knew though that he hadn't met her before, at least not in this lifetime or in this body.

He turned back to look at her once more but even before his eyes met the door of the coffee shop, he knew that she would no longer be there. He stood there for a long time, the rain running off his hair and his face and down his neck, people muttering as they pushed past him, shaking their heads at the way he was blocking the doorway. His eyes were fixed on the spot where she had stood before and his mind was firmly focused on the way her hand had felt in his.

Finally, he breathed a heavy sigh and turning once more, walked off into the night, his mind full of questions for which he had no answers. As he turned the corner into the parking lot, he felt himself smiling and feeling warm in a way that he hadn't felt in a long time. "I'll be back, Caitlin", he heard himself shouting to the wind. "I'll be back!"