The Hourglass

One

I sit in the corner of the local coffee shop, occasionally glancing out the window, waiting. The shop is somewhat quiet now after the morning rush. I glance over at the counter as I watch the young barista finish taking the last customer's order. Her short black hair is just long enough to be pulled back into a ponytail. I can only see the top half of her from my seat. She's wearing a white T-shirt with a green apron over it. She looks pale, tired, sad. But she's not who I'm here for.   At least not today. 

I take a sip of my warm latte and set the cup back on the saucer, stable on the table. I look around the coffee shop. I don't often stay inside when I come. I prefer to stay out of the public as much as possible. I observe the decorations of this new, hip coffee joint. There is a variety of seating. Customers can choose booths, tables, chairs, sofas, or rocking chairs. I chose a booth in the back despite being alone. There are Edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling, along with dried flowers and herbs. It feels cozy. Especially on a rainy day like today. 

I glance back out the rain-splattered window and watch as traffic goes by. I look up when I hear the door ding as another customer enters. He's here. I inhale quickly with anticipation and try to watch him discreetly. I feel my eyes widen a bit as I observe, alert now. He's tall and slender with dark hair. He's wearing a black shirt and jeans. Nothing extraordinary, though I didn't expect otherwise. I can't see his face from here. I watch as he orders his coffee, taking another sip of mine as I try to act casual. He doesn't interact with the barista outside of telling her his order, though I can tell she finds him attractive by her suddenly upbeat tone and smile. He watches the rain as she makes his order, apparently lost in deep thought, oblivious to anyone else in the shop. 

When the barista finishes his order, he pays and promptly leaves the shop, not glancing back. I stay seated, contemplating my assignment. The hourglass was on my dresser when I woke up this morning. This has happened to me a handful of times since childhood. There's always a dream the night before. I was seven the first time it happened, and the dream was about my mother. I flinch at the memory. I don't prefer to dwell on that one. 

It's been a while since I last was assigned a mission. They don't happen often, and they come when I expect them least, often for people I already somewhat know. Kelsi was the name of my last mission, and she was my first stranger. She was a fifteen-year-old girl, anorexic and depressed. I was a sophomore in college at the time. In my dream, I signed up for the Big Brother, Big Sister program in town. There was a very fragile, small, blonde girl assigned to me. She was quiet and seemingly determined not to speak to me. She was being forced to participate in the program. That was all the information I got from the dream before I woke up and saw the hourglass. That same day, I signed up for the program and was given her folder. I took it home and studied up on her. 

She had been bouncing around foster homes. She refused to speak to any of the families she stayed with and refused to speak to her counselor, teachers, or peers. She completely isolated herself in every way she could. Her parents died in a car accident when she was just two years old, and she had no other family to take her. I knew it was my mission to get to know her and help her before it was too late, before the hourglass ran out. 

It took three weeks of spending time with her before she finally told me what happened to her. Most of the homes she had been in had not been great. She was either beaten up by the parents or the other children present in the home. There were times when she was starved and neglected, and eventually, in one home, she was sexually abused. This was her breaking point. She began starving herself out of control. Her foster parents couldn't starve her if she was the one refusing to eat. She felt numb and began cutting herself to feel. She was eventually passed on to another family, the one she was in when I met her. She admitted it was a safe home for her, but she was too damaged, and the parents couldn't handle her mental health problems. They wanted to get rid of her, too. This was her last chance. 

She said there was something about me she could trust. After going through the program with me, she became willing to speak to her counselors and foster parents. She was going to be okay. And I left, moving on with my life until my next assignment. 

I dreamed of him last night. We were both sitting in this coffee shop. I was in this booth in the back corner, and he was across the room at a table. He was sipping his coffee and reading a book when he suddenly looked up at me, and our eyes met. They were green, and they were empty, and then I woke up, and the hourglass was waiting for me.