« Home is where the coffee is», says the doormat infront of «Molly's little coffeshop». I do the small shuffle I always have the urge to perform on doormats, no matter if my boots are dirty or not. «Pling», a bell rings as I enter and a curly head of bright red locks shows up over the counter.
«Morning Darlin'! You're early. What can I get you?», says the small lady with a smile on her face that seems to go so far from one side to the other it makes you wonder if the corners of her mouth sometimes casually meet on top of her head. «Good morning Mam, I just got here. I was wondering if you might know where I find John Trucker? I ought to come stay here with him.» «Old Man Trucker? Oh lovely, you can't be staying with Old Man Trucker. That man ain't good for a young thing like you. With all the booze and that...», her smile turnes into a frown which worries me a little. «Well Mam, bloods thicker than booze and family is not a choice. », I harshly answer. «Oh silly me! He's family? You from overseas then? Nevermind. I didn't mean to be forward. But come with me, quick. I'll show you that he isn't good company for a girl like you.»
The lady wiggles around the corner, pops on a coat and is out the door. «Ping!», goes the doorbell again and I quickly ruffle my things together and follow her out into the cold. She leads me through the town, waving to the baker as he opens the shutters and then promptly stops in front of the pub.
«Well, here we are! He can't be far. Ah, see.. » Molly points to the bench right next to the Pub, where an old man lies sleeping, embracing a whiskeybottle like a small child hugging it's stuffed animal. He snores and tiny clouds rise up from his nose, vanishing into the cold air. He's wearing a thick winter coat that reeks off liqour and seems dank from the mist. His scruffy beard tries to hide a face that's branded by life and sorrow, but the drinker's nose sticks out like a lighthouse, which enhances every crease. I can't help but stare at the man who's picture hangs over my mothers dresser. The suits gone. The smiles gone. All that's left is a wreck of a man that once used to be handsome.
Molly seems to have read my thoughts as she softly puts her hands on my back and says: «Come dear, he won't be talking till noon. You better come with me. I'll get you an Earl Gray and see if I can find you a place to stay. You'll feel better then.» I sigh. Tea seems to be the solution to everything in this country, but it's clammy and who minds a welcoming soul after a long journey?
Molly turns out to be allright. She bundles me into the largest armchair to be found, puts a blanket over me and a flowery teacup in my hand. Soon my limbs start to prickle and come back to life. She lets me take a sip of my tea but then curiously starts to question me about myself and what led me to a town like Tillsbury. There's something about tea and comfort that just makes you want to talk.
«So bascially, you're telling me your mother send you off all the way from Germany to Tillsbury, to a granddad she hasn't seen in ages, because you slipped a couple of pastries from the local bakery?» I nodd. «To feed your hungry siblings?» I nodd again. «Well, that for sure is a way to get rid of a hungry mouth to feed. But don't you go around here snaffling stuff, because the Tillsbury townspeople will make you a head shorter in a blink of an eye!» Then she tilts her head and grins: «Where they good though?»
YOU ARE READING
Tillsbury Adventures
RomanceAll the way from germany young Everly is send to Tillsbury to live with her imposing captain of a grandfather. He soon turnes out to be more of a drunken sailor which leaves Everly confronted with all sorts of strange townspeople. Tillsbury adventur...
