Simon Says

Simon stopped by the café as he had everyday since Maggie passed.  That’s what? Ten years? Maybe eleven. The small eatery has had three owners in that time.  Two were brothers who couldn’t stop fighting, so they sold it to Roberta who runs it now. Any way, he comes here everyday at a half past noon.  Sits by the window and waits until the crowd has thinned.  Then orders his sandwich and soup and hot tea. He talks to no one except Joan the waitress who has waited on him for over a decade. He knows her children by name and has watched them grow up and graduate from Lincoln’s only high school. His own daughter graduated there, too.  Twenty-two years ago.  But she was killed in a bank robbery in Carthage, Texas just after Clinton won election. A man who needed money came into the bank and wielded a gun and Ruth Ann didn’t get down on her knees fast enough, so he shot her.  In the head.  He was high on dope, they said.  Then it was Maggie’s turn to go. Cancer. Fast.  Faster than the doctors who raced to catch it. Now he was alone.  Alone except for his daily visits with Roberta and Joan at the café in the middle of the day with the flower on the table and the daily specials waiting for him to break his habit of a sandwich, soup and a cup of hot tea.

Then one day he didn’t show.  No one said a word.  Then another day and still another.  They called the sheriff and told him and he went out to 1515 Willow Road and they found Simon slumped over his kitchen table.  He was stone cold. There was no note, so it was ruled natural causes.  No self-inflicted wounds of any kind.  Just the old ticker stopped ticking and he went home to see Maggie and Ruth Ann.

The old place seems empty at a half past noon with out Simon popping in and nodding to a few old friends as he slid into his seat by the window with the flower and the salt shaker ready for his sandwich, bowl of soup and cup of tea.  It seemed very empty without him there. Very empty in deed.

On February second that year, a new man showed up and took that seat.  All eyes were watching him. He was a new comer to town.  A stranger.  Joan approached and asked how he was.  “Fine. Name is Adam. What’s good here?”

Joan smiled.  “The people are good. The food is so-so and the conversation is free.”

“I like it.” He smiled back and made her feel real warm inside.

“You new here?  Just moving here?” She asked as she pulled a pencil out of her apron ready for his order.

“Nope. Just passing through taking care of some business.  By the way, Simon says to say hello. He says the sandwich is good and I should get it with a bowl of soup.”

Joan stared at him in amazement. “Simon told you that?”

“Yep. And a cup of tea if you don’t mind. Gotta lotta miles to cover today, so let’s get a move on. Oh one other thing, he wants to know how the kids are doing?”

The sun seemed a little warmer and the flower glowed a bit more than normal in its vase, as its bloom seemed to stretch just a little more open than ordinary. Or was it just her imagination.