Black Coffee
By Robert Lamb

The young waitress, bottle blonde, was back again. “Made up your mind yet?” She sounded impatient and indifferent at the same time.
Just coffee, I told her. Black. No cream.
“I need something stronger,” Jenny said. “Do you serve wine?”
The waitress nodded, chewed gum, checked her nails. Red.
“Chardonnay,” Jenny said. “House is okay.”
The waitress, wordless, went away. Jenny studied the wall at my back, her solemn hazel eyes fixed on a pastel wallpaper. I studied Jenny studying the wall at my back. We were the only customers in the place.
“What?” she said, meeting my eyes at last, defiant, distraught.
“Nothing.”
“Well, it’s hard.”
I said I knew.
“No, you don’t. It’s not your mother.”
I said I knew whose mother it was.
Jenny went back to staring at the wall.
The waitress brought our drinks. She put the wine in front of me, the coffee — with cream — in front of Jenny, and left the bill on the edge of the table. The wine was a blush, not Chardonnay, but when I started to call the waitress back, Jenny stopped me. “Never mind,” she said.
Swapping drinks, I nodded toward the waitress. “Hope Miss Congeniality there doesn’t depend on tips for a living.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing,” I said.
Jenny sipped her wine. “I don’t think I can do it,” she said, a pink flush rising at her throat.
“Well, go back over there and tell them that.” I nodded toward a big gray building across the street.
“I just can’t,” she said, sipping again.
“Look, if you can’t, you can’t. They’ll understand. You won’t be the first who couldn’t do it.”
“I don’t see how anybody could do it.”
“I could do it. I could do it because it ought to be done. When a thing needs doing, it’s best to go on and do it.”
“I’m not like you.”
“Then don’t do it.”
“I’d hate myself if I did it.”
“Then don’t do it, for Christ’s sake. Go on over there and tell `em.”
“I’ll finish my wine first.” She sipped again. “Maybe if I drink enough of this I can do it.”
“Do it and then drink,” I said. “Then you’ll have a reason to drink.”
“I have a reason now. Will you order me another glass?”
“I read somewhere that memory and judgment are the first things clouded by alcohol.”
“Memory would be okay,” she said.
“Suit yourself.” I started to call for the waitress.
“Wait!” Jenny said. “You’re right. I need a clear head for this.” She pushed the glass away. It was still nearly full. “What time is it?”
“Two-thirty.” I signaled toward a big white-faced clock on a nearby wall. You couldn’t miss it.
“How long did he say he’d be there?”
“Till three.”
She made a face. “Will you tell him for me?”
“Tell him what?”
“You know,” she said.
“No, I don’t know.”
She reached for my coffee. “Mind?”
I pushed the cup and saucer toward her. The cream, too. I didn’t use the stuff.
Stirring in the cream, she said, “It’s for the best, don’t you think?”
“What I think’s not important here,” I said.
She sipped the coffee, now a caramel-brown. “I can’t do it. She’s my mother.”
I reached for her wine. “All the more reason you should do it,” I said. “Should want to do it.”
“Was it this way with your mother?”
“No.”
“See.”
“Proves nothing.”
She shrugged. “You’re right. What time is it?”
I finished her wine while glancing at the clock. “Two minutes later than when you asked before.”
“Don’t be smart at a time like this.”
“Don’t be dumb at a time like this.”
She made a face again and heaved a sigh. “Okay. You’re right. I’ll do it.”
She started to get up. I thought I saw tears. “You sure?”
“I’m sure. As sure as I’ll ever be.” She got on up, smoothing wrinkles from her navy blue skirt as she rose.
I stood up, too. I left enough money on the table to cover the bill and give the waitress a good tip.

When angels talk
Nobody is courageous all the time. The unknown is a constant challenge, and being afraid is part of the journey.
What to do? Talk to yourself. Talk alone. Talk to yourself even if others think you have gone crazy. As we talk, an inner force gives us the security to overcome the obstacles that need to be surmounted. We learn lessons from the defeats that we are bound to suffer. And we prepare ourselves for the many victories that will be part of our life.
And just between you and me, those who have this habit (and I’m one of them) know that they never talk alone: the guardian angel is there, listening and helping us to reflect. What follows are some stories about angels.

Conversation in heaven
Abd Mubarak was on his way to Mecca when one night he dreamed that he was in heaven and heard two angels having a conversation.
“How many pilgrims came to the holy city this year?” one of them asked.
“Six hundred thousand”, answered the other.
“And how many of them had their pilgrimage accepted?”
“None of them. However, in Baghdad there is a shoemaker called Ali Mufiq who did not make the pilgrimage, but did have his pilgrimage accepted, and his graces benefited the 600,000 pilgrims”.
When he woke up, Abd Mubarak went to Mufiq’s shoe shop and told him his dream.
“At great cost and much sacrifice, I finally managed to get 350 coins together”, the shoemaker said in tears. “But then, when I was ready to go to Mecca I discovered that my neighbors were hungry, so I distributed the money among them and gave up my pilgrimage”.

The beggar and the monk
A monk was meditating in the desert when a beggar came up to him and said:
“I need to eat”.
The monk — who was almost reaching the point of perfect harmony with the spiritual world — did not answer.
“I need to eat”, insisted the beggar.
“Go to the town and ask someone else. Can’t you see that you are bothering me? I am trying to communicate with the angels”.
“God placed himself lower than men, washed their feet, gave His life, and no-one recognized Him”, the beggar replied. “He who says he loves God — who does not see — and forgets his brother – who does — is lying”.
And the beggar turned into an angel.
“What a pity, you almost made it”, he remarked before leaving.

Condemning one’s brother
Abbot Isaac of Thebes was in the patio of the monastery praying when he saw one of the monks commit a sin. Furious, he interrupted his prayers and condemned the sinner.
That night he was prevented from returning to his cell by an angel who said to him: “you condemned your brother, but you did not say what punishment we should inflict: the pains of hell? Some terrible disease in this life? Some torment in his family?”
Isaac knelt down and asked for pardon: “I tossed the words in the air, and an angel heard them. I sinned by being irresponsible for what I said. Forget my ire, Lord, and make me take greater care in judging my neighbor”.

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“The Struggle, First Generation”
Chapter One: The Beginning

      You find yourself beginning to lie back on your bed, your legs dangling off the side, in your bedroom. You have your arms folded around your head, your hands crossed under the back of your neck, while you are just staring off into space. Your bedroom window is slightly open to allow the cool breeze and the faint frangrances of honey suckle to permeate your room.
     As you try to relax, the palms of your hands are beginning to become sweaty and nervousness has ever so slightly taken over your body. You are hungry, but your stomach is in knots and you realize that if you were to attempt to eat something it would probably not stay in your stomach very long.
     Well, you decide tht it is about time to stand up and afford yourself the opportunity to walk slowly around your room first. Your walk around your home will come second and mentally you will take a photograph of every room. The realization that today will be the final time you will ever see all that has become familiar to you, is beginning to slowly sink in.
    As you slowly walk around and try to memorize everything that you are able to, you begin to pick up those items that have always carried a sentimental meaning for you.
    Perhaps a special carving that was given to you many years ago by a close family  member is one of those precious items that you would want to remember. Perhaps a sweater that your mother had knitted for you when you were a very young child has some sentimental value for you.
     Maybe it is a personlized blanket that your grandmother made for you with all o your favorite colors when you were a very small child.
    Well, these particular items will always have a special place in your heart, but they must remain behind. In your heart, you wish that you could have the ability to bring everything with you, but then the reality of the situation sets in.
  Then as you slowly walk around you happened to find a photograph with all of your family members. It is not a recent picture, but you are beginning to think tht this will do for now. You look at it and then you come to the conclusion that this is what you would like to keep with you for the rest of your life.
    Carefully you pick up the picture by the edges so as not to add any additional fingerprints than are already there. You place it in your shirt pocket until you are able to add it to all the other items that you will be bringing with you.
    As you walk down the stairs and begin to walk towards the kitchen area, the smell of sauteed onions is becoming stronger and stronger. Okay, you made your way into the kitchen area and there is your wife Constanza leaning by the stove with the beginning of your supper meal.
    You offer your wife some assistance with the supper meal that you will be sharing in a little while and together you begin the process of cooking. You begin to put a salad together while your wife is preparing the fish that you brought home a few days ago.
    Of course, Constanza already prepared a very large pot of tomator sauce earlier in the morning, which is now just simmering on the stove. The tomato sauce will be for the pasta that she will prepare later in the evening.
  The supper meal tonight will be a celebratory type of meal, as you will be having a few close friends and family members over to share in the feast that the two of you are preparing.
  Along with the fish, tomato sauce and pasta that your wife is preparing and the salad that you are preparing there will be a variety of vegetables, such a scorn, carrots, lima beans and broccoli.
There will also be small oblong baskets of assorted fruits, such as grapes, bananask, pineapples, watermelon and cantaloupe. Finally yet importantly, there will also be oblong baskets of assorted nuts, Italina bread and assorted cheese to pick on before all of you actually sit down to ejoy a well earned meal.
Your six year old daughter Concetta and eight year old son Mario are playing a game of catch the ball just outside the back door. Your wife has already given them a time, as to when to come into the house.
However, for now it is okay that they continue to play outside. Guess it is a good thing that they are preoccupied for the time being because otherwise they would be getting under foot.
The clock is ticking and it is almost time for everyone to begin arriving at your home. Your mother and father are walking up the walkway, making their way to your front door. As you open the door to greet them, you can also see your wife’s mother and father not too far behind.
Other close family members and a few close friends are also beginning to arrive to share in your supper meal. Each of them is bringing something with them for all to share during the afternoon and evening festivities.
You stop working in the kitchen. For a short period, you walk into your bedroom and check your dresser one last time. For peace of mind, you want to make sure that you have everything that you will need in order and ready to go. All of your paper work is still there on your dresser, but because you are so nervous, you just had to check again.
When you slowly arrive back into the kitchen, your wife asks you to call the children, as more of your friends and family are on their way. You open your back door and ask your children to come into the house, as it is time for them to be cleaned up and put on some clean clothing for the dinner that is about ready to begin.
The children come running in through the kitchen on the way to their rooms and they pick up the fragrance of all the food that is being prepared. They each hurry to be cleaned up and changed because they are getting very hungry and really do not understand what all of the fuss is about.
They both run up the stairs into their bedrooms and gather up what they will need to get dressed for the big event. Your wife had previously placed on each of the children’s beds, the clothing that they are supposed to wear for the evening.
It takes them about half an hour in all to get dressed and ready. They each make their way back down the stairs and into the kitchen where you and your wife are. Your wife stops cooking for a few minutes to brush the children’s hair and make sure they look presentable.
As each of your remaining family menbers and friends arrive at your front door, your children are right ther to give out the hugs and kisses. I guess they are they official welcoming committee.
All of your houseguests have now arrived and some of them are sitting down in your livingroom, while others are standing around in various locations. Everyone is mixing and mingling with each other and your children are right there in the middle trying to entertain everyone.
Well, time has finally come for everyone to find a seat at one of the tables that were set up to accommodate the large crowd of guests. Everyone is beginning to walk around the tables and sit down wherever they want. On the table, the oblong baskets of assorted fruit have been carefully placed townards either end of the table.
Towards the middle of each table are placed the oblong baskets of assorted nuts and assorted cheese. Round baskets of Italian bread and biscuits have been placed in various areas working their way into the center of each table.
The middle area of each table has been reserved for rectangle trays of assorted flowers that are a variety of colors, sizes and shapes. How decorative each table appears against the colorful snowflake designed lace tablecloth.
As everyone begins to find their seat at one of the tables that were set up, you get a sense of a bittersweet celebratory atmosphere. As with any type of party gathering, most everyone is taking turns with conversations that seem to center around reminiscing moments back in time. You do know exactly what I am talking about do you not. All of those remember when type of discussions.
Stories are discussed that range between when you and your wife were very, very young children through young adulthood. One of the stories that were consistently recited over the years was when you were about seven years old and you just kept getting under your mother’s foot.
It was one of those lazy, hazy hot summer afternoons. You just did not have the drive or motivation to be moving around too quickly. However, you being only seven years old did not seem to pay much attention to what the weather was. You were literally a ball of energy.
Your mother on the other hand was very tired, as she had spent most of the day baking in preparation for the church festival that was to take place later in the evening. There were two large fans running in the kitchen to compensate for the rising temperatures, both inside and out, but it was not very much help. There just was no other way to cool off the kitchen area so your mother just had to endure and get her chores done as quickly as she was able. You on the other hand were oblivious to what the temperature was. All you knew was that you wanted someone to play with you.
Mom baked one angel cake with a light sugar glaze frosting, one mayonnaise cake with a dark chocolate icing and one carrot cake with a cream cheese icing. She also took the time to bake one apple crumb pie, one blueberry pie and one very special cherry pie because she already knew that was your favorite.
If that was not enough for the church festival later in the evening, she also took the time to bake about six dozen chocolate chip cookies and about six dozen sugar cookies, for all o the other small children that would be attending the church festival.
While your mother was busy trying to clean up all of the bowls, pots, pans, dishes and cooking utensils that were used for the preparation she decided to persuade you to offer your assistance. You were just so persistent in the art of getting under foot.
She asked i you would carry each of the cakes, pies and four trays of cookies carefully and slowly over to the table that she had previously set up by the window and set them down to cool. Guess you think that this would be a relatively easy task for a young child to accomplish, right?
Well, mom just seemed to get lost in her thoughts while you were happily performing the requested task and I guess she just forgot all about you being there in the kitchen with her. You see, for the first time all day long, there was finally some peace and quiet and that was all she really wanted. Your mother was very hot and tired after all the baking she had done. She just wanted a little peace and quiet.
Okay, now she was able to concentrate on taking the time to clean up all of the bowls, pots, pans, dishes and cooking utensils that she had been using all day. She walked over to the sink and began to fill the basin full o hot water and soap. Of course, the last thing that she needed to be putting her arms and hands into was hot water. However, what are you going to do?
After she finished washing, drying and putting all of the bowls, pots, pans, dishes and cooking utensils away she proceeded to also clean the counter tops and then last but not least the oven. Now there is a chore everyone waits in line for, right?
All the while, she was just so deep into her own thoughts about the church festival that she just completely lost sight of what you were doing. She continued to go about her business, enjoying the peace and quiet while she finished cleaning up………….

*Are you interested in what happened next? What was it Vencenzo did as a small child that made this a memorable story worth repeating?

(from pages 5 – 10)