Excerpt From Watching and Listening

Here is a selection from Watching and Listening, a noir short story I recently completed about a lonely, socially awkward man who becomes obsessed with a coffee shop waitress.

WATCHING AND LISTENING
The night embraced Johnny, gathering him into its unseen arms, not letting him go.
He was a willing captive. He wanted to lose himself in the night and never return to his lonely house that stood by itself at the end of the street, right at the edge of the woods and not far from the ravine, its nearest neighbor many blocks away.
The night entranced him, comforted him. In the night, his solitude melted into the anonymous glow of street lights, into the vacant gloom of shadowy laneways and back alleys.
He slowed in his flight, drawing to a halt beside a utility pole. He flattened his palm against it, catching his breath, regaining his balance. That wine he had bought for tonight, which was to be the night of nights but which had been an empty disappointment – what else could it have been, really? - had unbalanced him. His mind reeled with images and ideas that surged through him like electricity.
He looked about the deserted street. He was only a few blocks from that yawning pit of loneliness that was his house, lonely and desolate at the best of times – he had known no other home; he had inherited it from Mother when she had passed away four years ago – but even more so now thanks to Mina’s absence. He had wanted to invite her over to visit him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it somehow. He was so shy with her, so shy with women, all he could ever do was watch her and watch them. He could never get more personal with them than a passing glance on the street or from across a coffee shop.
So, tonight, he’d pretended that he had had the guts to ask Mina to come over, had decided to throw a little party for himself with Mina as the imaginary guest of honor. He had sat at the dining room table that had been laid with Mother’s best china and cutlery, methodically drinking one glass after another of the expensive wine he had bought at the liquor store just for this wonderful occasion.
His throat tightened and he blinked to hold the tears back. He was turning thirty next week, far too old to be choked up like this.
He hadn’t even wept like this when Mother died.
At the end of the street stood a set of traffic lights; Smile’s coffee shop was right there. A sprint of a minute or two and he would be walking in the door. There was hope; she might still be there. He checked his watch. It was only ten-thirty. Her shift didn’t end for another hour at least. He would go there and see her and talk to her, convince her that she should date him.
But, he had to steady himself first. He braced himself against the utility pole. His breath came in short gasps. His heart raced. His white dress shirt, hours ago so crisp and tidily pressed - he’d actually laid out a few bucks to get it dry cleaned for tonight - now dripped with sweat and clung to him in the clammy, humid air of the August night like a sodden rag. He caught his breath and held it. He had no choice. He had to get to Smile’s and see Mina. He had to.
He lunged forward and made himself run the final blocks. Soon, he was across from the strip mall which housed the coffee shop. He stood behind a tree, away from the glow of the street lights.
He could see Mina in the window, mopping the floor by the entrance. She was in her tight-fitting orange and white uniform that clung to her curvy figure so enticingly, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was a year younger than he, she’d mentioned her age in passing one night, but the pony tail and her warm smile dissolved the years and made her seem like a fresh-faced college girl, identical to the ones he admired from afar when he was a janitor at Dorchester College, before Mother had died and he didn’t need to work anymore, because he had her inheritance…
Don’t let the memories run away with you, he thought. Look at what’s in front of you. Look at how beautiful she is and how she could be yours, if only you spoke to her the right way and stopped being such a nervous ass.
He took courage from the night that surrounded him, and crossed the street, looking directly at Mina through the window. She couldn’t see him, not yet, but that was all the better.
He pushed open the door and he was inside.
Mina saw him and smiled. “Good evening, Johnny. You look kind of warm.”
Tom smiled back as he sidled up to the counter, hoping he wasn’t staggering. Mina set aside her mop and followed him. “Yeah, been walking too fast. It’s real muggy out. You been busy tonight, Mina?”
“We had a bit of a crowd in here about an hour ago, bunch of kids heading out to the clubs, I guess. No one since, though. Pretty quiet.”
Johnny was glad his voice sounded clear. He didn’t seem to be slurring his words. “Gives you time to yourself to look after the place”
“Yeah,” she said shyly, her voice trailing off as she walked behind the counter.
He looked at the faded lit-up picture on the wall behind the counter of a china mug almost spilling over with steaming coffee. He remembered coming in here as a child with Mother years ago when the picture was bright and new. Now Mother was gone and the picture was fading away. He cursed himself. Don’t get all morbid. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just ask Mina out? She’d been here a year, she knew who he was. He wasn’t a stranger to her.
He watched Mina slide gracefully behind the counter, her bare, well-toned legs exposed from just above the knee by her orange skirt that fit just right, not too sexy, but not too plain either.
Johnny licked his lips appreciatively. He coughed and raised his hand to cover his mouth, hoping she hadn’t seen him. “Got a bit of a cold?” she asked.
“Think so.”
“That sucks. Not surprising though, with so much rain lately. Oh well, what can you do? You want your usual?”
“Large coffee with two creams.”
“You got it.”
He paid for his coffee and while he took it in his hand that trembled maybe a little too much, he glimpsed at Mina’s dark brown, almond-shaped eyes. She smiled warmly and for a moment, his eyes lingered over the glimpse of cleavage her blouse revealed.
Had she noticed him looking? Maybe that was why she was still smiling as he sat down at his usual table. He glanced back one more time at her. She was still looking, but her forehead creased with what looked like a frown. Was she angry with him? Best not to look her way again for a while.
He sipped his coffee. He looked at the cup in his hand. Rock steady. His tremor wasn’t so bad. Maybe he wasn’t as visibly drunk as he had feared.
Someone had left a newspaper on the table and he looked through it, occasionally sneaking peeks at Mina. She was no longer at the counter; she had returned to mopping the floor.
The front door opened and a young woman with long blonde hair swept in, a duffel bag in her hand.
“Hey, Erica! How you doing!” Mina shouted as the blonde woman smiled and waved a greeting as she hurried to the back of the store.
Erica worked the counter overnight. Johnny cursed to himself. Her arrival meant Mina’s shift was ending. Soon she would be going home. He would not talk with her again that night.
He would have no choice but to go out for one of his walks. He never used to take late night walks, but in the last month or so, they had become a real habit for him. He found they relaxed him and helped him sleep. They also helped him keep an eye on Mina. Now, that wasn’t the only reason he did them. He needed the exercise and the time to think, but it never hurt to make sure Mina got home okay and no one had disturbed her. He didn’t want to see any harm come to her and none had.
So far.