In the Apple

Chapter 8

Inside, I felt somewhat safer. It was just a coffee shop, not a lot different from those I'd seen at home, with lots of small tables looked after by a harried-looking waitress, and a long counter with stools. Most of the tables and about half of the stools were occupied with an ordinary-looking assortment of people. Smithy led me to a stool with the air of a maitre d' leading someone to a grand table in an elegant restaurant. I sat obediently and the counterman approached. He gave Smithy a dirty look which Smithy clearly noted and chose to ignore. "2 cups o' joe, Joe," he said, fixing the counterman with a challenging glare. I wondered how they knew each other and what had transpired between them to value this obvious hostility. Joe shifted his glance to me and said, "Milk and sugar?" I didn't want to admit that I'd never tasted coffee. "Yes, please," I answered meekly. He studied me for a moment with a long and serious look, and then went to fetch the coffees. He returned quickly, and set a small plate down next to me as well. "Have you ever had date-nut bread with cream cheese?" he asked.

I smiled at his kindness. "No!" I exclaimed eagerly. "But I love them both so I guess it must be good!"

He returned my smile and said, "Well here's one to try, on me."

I thanked him and bit into the bread while he watched. "Wow," I enthused, "it's delicious! Wait till I tell my mother about this!"

"You have a mother?" asked Joe, furrowing his brow.

I laughed. "Well of course I do," I answered, "doesn't everybody?"

"Well, I meant, you know...alive and well."

"Oh. Yeah, I do. And my grandparents are still alive, too," I offered, thinking what a nice, small-town thing it was for him to do, asking about my family.

Joe turned his head and glared at Smithy. "Why don't you just take off and let this little lady alone?" he hissed.

I felt uncomfortable, not knowing what the cause of the bad blood between them was, but feeling it was none of my business. I looked away, gazing around at the other patrons of the coffee shop, and was startled to see more than one person staring back with an expression that looked a lot like disapproval. Why was that, I wondered? Did they think I should be in school? Did school start earlier in New York? Or did they think I was just too young to be drinking coffee? I turned back to my cup and lifted it in a way I hoped was casual. The bitter taste shocked my mouth, and I nearly choked, but my New England upbringing came to the rescue and I breathed slowly through my nose and swallowed cautiously. Aware that Joe and Smithy had just turned to look at me, and not wanting to appear the unsophisticated child that I was, I took another small sip and rolled it around in my mouth in an effort to get used to it. 'Hmmm,' I thought, 'I might actually learn to like this brew.' I sipped again and, wanting to defuse the simmering hostility between the two men, I smiled at Joe. "The coffee is lovely," I said to him. To my embarrassed surprise, he ignored me and leaned towards Smithy so that they were nose to nose. "Leave her be!" he stage-whispered.

For a moment, a mean look crossed Smithy's face, and a brief thrill of fear ran through me. "Back off, Joe," he whispered back.

A lifetime of being a pacifier took over and I leaned towards Joe. "It's okay," I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone, "Smithy's my guide! He's going to show me Greenwich Village!"

I smiled brightly, the waitress hollered at Joe for something, and Smithy said to me, "Come on, girl, let's go." He tossed some money onto the counter with a contemptuous flourish. As we stood up and he steered me to a door that opened onto the street, I realised that I'd made my choice. I was going to let Smithy show me the way to Greenwich Village. What I would do with him after that, I hadn't figured out, but at the moment I was too keen to escape the coffee shop and the unfathomable tension between Smithy and Joe to care.