Tim and Caleb go to get coffee
Tim sold what he thought would be the last customer of the rush a small
popcorn and soda, received exact change and dropped the two quarters in
the drawer with a clink, looked towards the front door and saw that it
was. He did a cursory cleanup of the snack bar, refilled his courtesy
cup and popcorn box, and pulled his book out from the shelf below the
drink machine.
A minute later, Caleb walked down the snack bar and slapped Tim on the back.
“Tim you're doing a great job!”
“Am I? Actually, all I'm doing is standing here, reading and eating popcorn.”
“But you're doing it so very well. I woke up this morning and said to myself, ‘Tim Page–there’s a young go-getter. That’s someone I need to get to know. ‘.” Caleb paused, and Tim, not quite sure how to take this, decided to smile and nod quickly, trying to indeed be the young go-getter that Caleb thought he was. “Have you taken your break?” Caleb asked.
Tim shook his head.
“Come on,” Caleb said. “Let's get some coffee.”
Caleb whirled to leave, but then looked back to see if Tim was coming. Several thoughts went through Tim’s mind. One, he liked coffee. Two, Caleb was a freak and Tim wasn’t sure exactly what was up with them. However, he realized that despite his seeming dorkinesss, he was a friend of April’s. He nodded and put his book on an empty shelf below the counter. He took off his vest, wrapped it up and placed it next to his book.
“Let’s go,” Caleb announced, and sped off through the double front doors. Tim followed him out of the theater and to the right, breaking into a trot to catch up with Caleb. The Santa Zita Movies I & II was located in a small, quiet mall named the Galleria. Built in the same basic color scheme as the Movies I & II, brown and beige with blue accents, the Galleria had a rounder, more modern feel, with curved stairways and no sharp edges to its walls. The Movies I & II and the Galleria occupied a space between Bay Street and the San Christobal River. According to a small bronze plaque on a wall near the entrance to the Galleria, it had once been the site of Santa Zita’s Chinatown.
“It's amazing how much money TransPacific makes. Every day, tens of thousands of dollars-in our movie theater alone.”
“Yeah...” Tim said. “They seem to do okay.”
“I’m sure they make a healthy profit,” Caleb said. “I mean, they own almost every theater in Santa Zita county.”
Tim wondered why Caleb was bringing up the subject of TransPacific’s financial health. Now that they were out of the theater, Caleb’s words were measured and conversation, with an undertone of conspiracy.
“That’s true,” Tim said. “Except for the Dimaleum and the Water–”
“Which don’t show any major films,” Caleb cut him off. “Almost a monopoly, you might say.”
“You might.”
“If you have a monopoly, then you can charge more than you could otherwise.”
“That’s basic economic theory.”
“You said your dad was a business professor,” Caleb said.
“He is,” Tim said, surprised that Caleb remembered this, which he had only mentioned in passing during his first night of work.
“So, I think he would agree, that they’re actually taking more money from the local economy than they really deserve.”
Tim slowly nodded. He wasn’t sure that his dad would actually agree, suspecting that his father would find some extenuating circumstances or permutation of theory that would state the ticket prices they were paying were the best possible deal they could get in this, the best of all possible worlds.
“Very interesting,” Caleb said. He looked significantly at Tim, who knew that Caleb wanted him to interpret what he was saying and reach some conclusion. But Tim didn’t feel like doing that, so he just looked back at Caleb blankly. Caleb shrugged and said no more as they reached Bay Street.
The traffic light turned to walk and Tim followed Caleb across Front. They walked into the shadow of the Miller House, a large Victorian mansion that had been remodeled to house several shops and a patio restaurant. The crenellations of its roof made a blocky zig-zag of the shadow’s edge in the middle of the street. Tim looked down into the toy store located in the Miller House’s basement, and wondered if that was where Darren had purchased his comic books.
They turned the corner onto the mall itself. As they passed The Hat Company, a bearded homeless man jingled a cup of change and said “it’s here, it’s here” repeatedly. As Tim and Caleb went by, he called out “spare change for bus fare?” and held up a cardboard sign saying “Destination: anywhere but here.” To Tim’s surprise, Caleb stopped and took a crumpled dollar bill from his jacket pocket and put it in his cup.
“Thanks, man,” the bearded man said, and returned to saying “it’s here”. Tim looked at Caleb, surprised. Caleb didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would give spare change to a homeless man, let alone a whole dollar.
Once they were inside the coffee shop, Caleb ordered large coffees for both of them. When Tim tried to pay for his, Caleb waved his dollar bill away and paid for both himself, pulling more crumpled dollar bills from his jacket.
“Thanks,” Tim said, as they proceeded to the cream and sugar station.
“Don’t mention it,” Caleb replied. “It's the least I can do.”
Caleb liked his coffee the way Tim did-loaded with cream and sugar. After that, though, Caleb took a straw and punched it through the coffee lid before placing the lid carefully over the top of the cup.
“Use a straw,” Caleb said, and handed one to Tim, who copied Caleb’s motion exactly. As Tim followed Caleb back through the Bookshop Santa Zita to the mall, Caleb said, “Really, Caleb said, coffee is really best appreciated as a desert. Thus, it should be drunk with a straw.”
“Makes it taste hotter, too,” Tim said. “I like that.”
“Exactly. So, we were discussing the TransPacific Corporation's relationship to the community.”
“We were,” Tim said.
“If some members of that community, were to engage in some redistribution, some wealth redistribution... you wouldn't object?”
Tim spread his hands apart, slowly so he wouldn't spill any coffee, raising his shoulders slightly at the same time. Caleb raised his eyebrows, but Tim said nothing. Caleb nodded and took a large sip of coffee. Tim watched the beige liquid shoot quickly up the straw, and was tempted to ask Caleb what was really going on, but something held him back.
When they entered the lobby of the Movies I & II, Tim saw Pete, now wearing a dark blue sports jacket, standing by the snack bar, talking to Darren and holding one of his comic books. August and April were sitting on the lobby bench, giggling together. When Pete saw them entering, he put the comic book down and zoomed over to the entrance.
“Caleb,” Pete said, “there you are. It doesn’t look like Bob is going to stop by here today, so I'm going to go home for a while. Can you handle everything?”
Behind Pete, Tim saw August and April exchange smiles. August licked her lips.
“Of course,” Caleb said. “Leave it all to me.”
“Thank you much, Caleb. I’ll be back around six. Bye everyone,” Pete said, and ambled out.
As soon as Pete rounded the corner, Caleb clapped his hands together. “Okay, gang,” Caleb said to them. “We have lots of work to do. Darren-“
“Yeah?” said Darren from halfway down the snack bar.
“I think Pete may need to order more drink cups. Can you count the stores in back?”
“Sure,” Darren said, but finished the page he was reading before putting the issue of Batman back in its slipcover. He disappeared into the back room.
“I’ll refill the napkins,” Tim volunteered.
“Great,” Caleb said, without bothering to look in Tim’s direction. As he stuffed wads of napkins into the metal dispensers, he glanced back at the cashier's position. He saw Caleb flip up the metal plates on the counter, exposing the rolls of tickets beneath. Caleb quickly made a series of notes, and closed the plates. From behind him, Tim could hear Darren counting by fives.
Caleb exited the snack bar and went over to August and April. Tim couldn’t hear what Caleb was saying to them, but August responded in a louder voice.
“Fine,” August said. “We’ll do it your way.” August came back to the cashier's position and grabbed her vest from the shelf to her right.
A few minutes later the first customers started entering for the 5:15 showing of Ghostbusters II. As Tim served out colas, popcorns, candy and the infrequent hot dog, he glanced to the front every so often. While he was pouring a large Sprite, he noticed something odd. August sold some tickets, but didn't press the buttons in front of her to eject them to the customer. Instead, she reached among the buttons and withdrew two tickets. As she did, another ticket came loose and dropped to the ground, fluttering like a leaf falling from a tree on a windless day. August saw the ticket fall and started to reach down, but then she saw Tim, so she stopped. He was tempted to help her, to pick the ticket up off the ground, but he didn't. Something was going on, something to do with the conversation he’d just had with Caleb, but it didn’t seem like something Tim wanted to be involved with, yet.
A minute later, Caleb walked down the snack bar and slapped Tim on the back.
“Tim you're doing a great job!”
“Am I? Actually, all I'm doing is standing here, reading and eating popcorn.”
“But you're doing it so very well. I woke up this morning and said to myself, ‘Tim Page–there’s a young go-getter. That’s someone I need to get to know. ‘.” Caleb paused, and Tim, not quite sure how to take this, decided to smile and nod quickly, trying to indeed be the young go-getter that Caleb thought he was. “Have you taken your break?” Caleb asked.
Tim shook his head.
“Come on,” Caleb said. “Let's get some coffee.”
Caleb whirled to leave, but then looked back to see if Tim was coming. Several thoughts went through Tim’s mind. One, he liked coffee. Two, Caleb was a freak and Tim wasn’t sure exactly what was up with them. However, he realized that despite his seeming dorkinesss, he was a friend of April’s. He nodded and put his book on an empty shelf below the counter. He took off his vest, wrapped it up and placed it next to his book.
“Let’s go,” Caleb announced, and sped off through the double front doors. Tim followed him out of the theater and to the right, breaking into a trot to catch up with Caleb. The Santa Zita Movies I & II was located in a small, quiet mall named the Galleria. Built in the same basic color scheme as the Movies I & II, brown and beige with blue accents, the Galleria had a rounder, more modern feel, with curved stairways and no sharp edges to its walls. The Movies I & II and the Galleria occupied a space between Bay Street and the San Christobal River. According to a small bronze plaque on a wall near the entrance to the Galleria, it had once been the site of Santa Zita’s Chinatown.
“It's amazing how much money TransPacific makes. Every day, tens of thousands of dollars-in our movie theater alone.”
“Yeah...” Tim said. “They seem to do okay.”
“I’m sure they make a healthy profit,” Caleb said. “I mean, they own almost every theater in Santa Zita county.”
Tim wondered why Caleb was bringing up the subject of TransPacific’s financial health. Now that they were out of the theater, Caleb’s words were measured and conversation, with an undertone of conspiracy.
“That’s true,” Tim said. “Except for the Dimaleum and the Water–”
“Which don’t show any major films,” Caleb cut him off. “Almost a monopoly, you might say.”
“You might.”
“If you have a monopoly, then you can charge more than you could otherwise.”
“That’s basic economic theory.”
“You said your dad was a business professor,” Caleb said.
“He is,” Tim said, surprised that Caleb remembered this, which he had only mentioned in passing during his first night of work.
“So, I think he would agree, that they’re actually taking more money from the local economy than they really deserve.”
Tim slowly nodded. He wasn’t sure that his dad would actually agree, suspecting that his father would find some extenuating circumstances or permutation of theory that would state the ticket prices they were paying were the best possible deal they could get in this, the best of all possible worlds.
“Very interesting,” Caleb said. He looked significantly at Tim, who knew that Caleb wanted him to interpret what he was saying and reach some conclusion. But Tim didn’t feel like doing that, so he just looked back at Caleb blankly. Caleb shrugged and said no more as they reached Bay Street.
The traffic light turned to walk and Tim followed Caleb across Front. They walked into the shadow of the Miller House, a large Victorian mansion that had been remodeled to house several shops and a patio restaurant. The crenellations of its roof made a blocky zig-zag of the shadow’s edge in the middle of the street. Tim looked down into the toy store located in the Miller House’s basement, and wondered if that was where Darren had purchased his comic books.
They turned the corner onto the mall itself. As they passed The Hat Company, a bearded homeless man jingled a cup of change and said “it’s here, it’s here” repeatedly. As Tim and Caleb went by, he called out “spare change for bus fare?” and held up a cardboard sign saying “Destination: anywhere but here.” To Tim’s surprise, Caleb stopped and took a crumpled dollar bill from his jacket pocket and put it in his cup.
“Thanks, man,” the bearded man said, and returned to saying “it’s here”. Tim looked at Caleb, surprised. Caleb didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would give spare change to a homeless man, let alone a whole dollar.
Once they were inside the coffee shop, Caleb ordered large coffees for both of them. When Tim tried to pay for his, Caleb waved his dollar bill away and paid for both himself, pulling more crumpled dollar bills from his jacket.
“Thanks,” Tim said, as they proceeded to the cream and sugar station.
“Don’t mention it,” Caleb replied. “It's the least I can do.”
Caleb liked his coffee the way Tim did-loaded with cream and sugar. After that, though, Caleb took a straw and punched it through the coffee lid before placing the lid carefully over the top of the cup.
“Use a straw,” Caleb said, and handed one to Tim, who copied Caleb’s motion exactly. As Tim followed Caleb back through the Bookshop Santa Zita to the mall, Caleb said, “Really, Caleb said, coffee is really best appreciated as a desert. Thus, it should be drunk with a straw.”
“Makes it taste hotter, too,” Tim said. “I like that.”
“Exactly. So, we were discussing the TransPacific Corporation's relationship to the community.”
“We were,” Tim said.
“If some members of that community, were to engage in some redistribution, some wealth redistribution... you wouldn't object?”
Tim spread his hands apart, slowly so he wouldn't spill any coffee, raising his shoulders slightly at the same time. Caleb raised his eyebrows, but Tim said nothing. Caleb nodded and took a large sip of coffee. Tim watched the beige liquid shoot quickly up the straw, and was tempted to ask Caleb what was really going on, but something held him back.
When they entered the lobby of the Movies I & II, Tim saw Pete, now wearing a dark blue sports jacket, standing by the snack bar, talking to Darren and holding one of his comic books. August and April were sitting on the lobby bench, giggling together. When Pete saw them entering, he put the comic book down and zoomed over to the entrance.
“Caleb,” Pete said, “there you are. It doesn’t look like Bob is going to stop by here today, so I'm going to go home for a while. Can you handle everything?”
Behind Pete, Tim saw August and April exchange smiles. August licked her lips.
“Of course,” Caleb said. “Leave it all to me.”
“Thank you much, Caleb. I’ll be back around six. Bye everyone,” Pete said, and ambled out.
As soon as Pete rounded the corner, Caleb clapped his hands together. “Okay, gang,” Caleb said to them. “We have lots of work to do. Darren-“
“Yeah?” said Darren from halfway down the snack bar.
“I think Pete may need to order more drink cups. Can you count the stores in back?”
“Sure,” Darren said, but finished the page he was reading before putting the issue of Batman back in its slipcover. He disappeared into the back room.
“I’ll refill the napkins,” Tim volunteered.
“Great,” Caleb said, without bothering to look in Tim’s direction. As he stuffed wads of napkins into the metal dispensers, he glanced back at the cashier's position. He saw Caleb flip up the metal plates on the counter, exposing the rolls of tickets beneath. Caleb quickly made a series of notes, and closed the plates. From behind him, Tim could hear Darren counting by fives.
Caleb exited the snack bar and went over to August and April. Tim couldn’t hear what Caleb was saying to them, but August responded in a louder voice.
“Fine,” August said. “We’ll do it your way.” August came back to the cashier's position and grabbed her vest from the shelf to her right.
A few minutes later the first customers started entering for the 5:15 showing of Ghostbusters II. As Tim served out colas, popcorns, candy and the infrequent hot dog, he glanced to the front every so often. While he was pouring a large Sprite, he noticed something odd. August sold some tickets, but didn't press the buttons in front of her to eject them to the customer. Instead, she reached among the buttons and withdrew two tickets. As she did, another ticket came loose and dropped to the ground, fluttering like a leaf falling from a tree on a windless day. August saw the ticket fall and started to reach down, but then she saw Tim, so she stopped. He was tempted to help her, to pick the ticket up off the ground, but he didn't. Something was going on, something to do with the conversation he’d just had with Caleb, but it didn’t seem like something Tim wanted to be involved with, yet.
Works
Recent Writing
- 1989 A Novel: Tim walks back to Holly Street
- 1989 A Novel: Tim and Caleb go to get coffee
- 1989 A Novel: Tim overhears a mysterious conversation between his co-workers
- 1989 A Novel: Tim first notices April
- 1989 A Novel: Morning at Holly Street