Gill's Coffee House Of Empty Hearts

Gill's Coffee House of Empty Hearts

Ben Fischer

To Alex Birmingham, Gill's Coffee House was seen as a home to a medley of humanity, from pest controllers to aglet salesmen. He tried to look beyond the group of women laughing, the writer typing frantically on a velvet chair, and the lonely grandmother stitching in the far corner to find a haven from his feeling of placelessness. A waitress dropped a mug and crash-a million white configurations began to fly in an expanding disk of hurt. Proving to Alex the quality of both the service and the people within the store, there were a dozen hands to help her clean it up. But Alex Birmingham was peering through the arched name at the door not for critique of their usage of glass mugs, but for two faces to match the pictures he clutched tight in his hand. Panic, nervousness and excitement all rose in his throat, a dangerous chemical romance. Until the week before, he thought his parents dead for seventeen years. He knew that in reality they were strangers to him, but after discovering that they were alive, he set out to fill the hole in his heart that he held for them. It was the hole he thought his uncle filled until he was old enough to realize there was so much more.

"Are yer looking for someone, mate?" The swirl of t British accent made Alex step back, as if asking are you talking to me? Alex realized he was peering through the doorway window and was blocking the way.

"Sorrysorrysorry," Alex said hurriedly with the familiar pounding in his chest that always seemed to be whenever he strangers dressed him.

He stepped inside and was hit by a strong onslaught of coffee on his nostrils. He heard a thousand conversations overlapping.

"Coffee?"

"Double shot–quickly now, go!"

"Sorry, oh so sorry."

'Did you hear–"

There, there, in the corner! His father had the same gel-combed hair as the photograph, the same suit, the same stern look of honesty and care. His mother wore a sparkling Technicolor dress that shimmered as she shifted in her seat and a fur line coat the bristled in the air-con. They both held half-full, steaming cups of coffee and were deep in conversation. His eyes on his parents (his parents!) the entire time, Alex bought himself his own cup and made his way to their table.

"Ah, yes- can we order two of those chili burgers? We're simply starving."

Two things became clear to Alex: Firstly, they mistook him for a waiter, and secondly, they were addressing him.

"Um... Mom?"

The woman gave him an uncomfortably quizzical stare before realization flashed over her face.

"Ah, Alex! How we've missed you!" The couple stood and both gave him a light and awkward hug. It was not the long and tearful embrace Alex had dreamt of for so long (After all, in a young boy's mind, family couldn't really die- they could only take an extended vacation). They did not offer to slide down, so Alex stepped over his father's lap beside a glass window that threw a grey city into his eyes.

"My boy, how you've grown!" A ridiculous statement. How old was he when they left him for whatever reason (indifference? Boredom? Uncle Hal wanted a kid to leave some cigarettes and lukewarm beers to?)-one year? Six months? Three?