Inspired by Hopper-- "Strangers"

Strangers

The night was bright and cool, the breeze coming from the east just as pleasant. Most of the city had long gone to bed but I was feeling restless. I walked down Harlem avenue, a street in the heart of downtown. Along that street stood a building with flats and on the third floor resided my good friend Lincoln. I wasn't at all positive that he was still awake but I was determined to have his company that night. I went up the stairs and rounded a corner to reach his door. I rapped on the door a few times and waited impatiently for an answer. Finally, Link opened the door, but only a crack. "Carmen, it's one o'clock, what are you doing?" He mumbled.

"Come on Link, let me in," I replied.

He opened the door wider with hesitation and I let myself in his dark, quiet flat. His yellow lab, Scout, greeted me with a lick on the hand. "Why are you all dressed up?" Link groaned, rubbing his eyes awake. He was in a white T-shirt and joggers, his dark hair that usually falls over his forehead a curly mess- a sight I had seen him in many times over the course of our six year friendship.

I gave an explanation to my red dress, "I went to a show tonight that my friend was in. Now get dressed, lets go do something."

"It's one AM, don't be ridiculous," Link complained.

"Come on," I urged. "Scout is awake, he can come with us." I bent down to scratch the dog's head as he wagged his tail at the sound of his name.

"Go with us where?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, I'm dying for a gallivant. I want to meet new people. Besides, we haven't hung out in a while."

"We see each other all the time," he grumbled.

I retorted, "I wasn't talking about you, I was talking about Scout."

"Carmen, I'm not going out, I just got to bed," he insisted.

"So you're going to make a young girl walk the town at night all alone? It would be a shame for such a pretty girl in such a pretty dress to go out alone without a handsome escort..." 

Link threw his head up and sulked to his room, growling, "Fine, I'll change."

"Wear something nice," I called after him. "I don't want to look out of place next to you."

Linked walked out a few minutes later and we leashed up Scout and we headed outside. Florescent streetlights flickered along the dim sidewalk. Scout padded obediently beside us but his excitement was clear from the wagging of his tail and the alertness of his ears.

The yellow light of a diner streamed into the dark street. The diner sat at the corner of Harlem ave and Whitaker rd, it's two walls made almost entirely of glass. We could see one employee- a bald man with a long white apron. Another man- a customer- sat at the end of the counter in a suit and hat, similar to Link's attire.

"Coffee?" Link asked me and I nodded.

We stepped inside, the smell of coffee instantly invading our noses. The man behind the counter greeted us with a friendly "hello."

"Do you mind if our dog joins us?" Link asked.

"Not at all," the man smiled. "Have a seat. What can I get for you?"

I sat down on the hard wooden bar stool. Scout took a seat below Link's feet and Daniel sat on the other side of him. Link answered, "The coffee smells good, we'll each have one."

"And I've been craving a waffle," I added.

Link nodded in agreement and said, "Oh yes, two waffles as well."

The bald man nodded, already poring our coffee. He placed our mugs in front of us and a tray of sugar and cream. The steam from the brew floated towards the ceiling. I watched as the man then began to make a waffle mix.

"What brings you two here this late at night?" He asked.

"Well I was forced outside against my own will," Link replied.

I ignored my friend and said, "The need for a gallivant and a change of pace. Routine is only pleasant before you get stuck in it."

"Oh ok, so do you live around here?" The man poured the batter into a waffle iron.

"Lincoln lives a few blocks down, but I live south of downtown," I answered.

"How do you like living in the city?" The man asked Link.

"It's convenient but not very peaceful," he admitted.

"Oh but for some peace is convenience," the employee said.

I huffed, "Only the lazy."

"You have a good point, young lady," he nodded.

The waffle iron made a "ding" and the bald man lifted the three fluffy waffles out onto plates. He put out syrup and silverware on the counter. "Lincoln, right?" The man handed Link his waffle after he nodded. "And you are?"

"Carmen," I replied and was given my waffle.

"Well Lincoln and Carmen, I'm Robert," he introduced. "Let me know how the waffles are."

"Thank you, Robert," I replied.

Waffle already in his mouth, Link nodded, "They're very good." And he was right, as I found out for myself.

It grew quiet as we finished our waffles. I was about three quarters of the way through when the stranger at the end of the counter caught my eye. He was watching us intently. Or, rather, one of us. Me. I tried desperately to remember if he had been looking at us the entire time, but my focus had all been on getting to know Robert and my waffle. The stranger's hat hung low on his head, a shadow cast over his face so that I couldn't make out what he looked like. The loneliness that surrounded him was familiar and the way he sat alone, coffee in hands, made him recognizable. He looked down at his coffee after I held his gaze for more than a beat.

After we finished our waffles, Robert cleared our plates and refilled our coffee. "Robert, who is that man over there?" I asked him, loud enough for the stranger to hear what I said if he was listening. I could tell that he had been paying attention to me and heard what I asked because he turned his face ever so slightly away.

Leaning over the counter, Robert whispered, "That, Miss Carmen, is William Richards." He said his name as if we were to recognize it but Link and I exchanged a dumbfounded glance. There was an awkward silence as we awaited a further explanation but it didn't come.

"I'm sorry Robert, William who?" Link asked.

"William Richards," Robert repeated. He hushed, gossiping, "You know, the writer who's always playing that silly instrument on the street and panhandling. Panhandling! For goodness sake he's a successful writer! Why anyone would panhandle for the fun of it, I don't know. How humiliating, indecent, unprofessional..." He shook his head in disapproval, muttering to himself as he turned around to clean up his area.

Link and I sat in silence for a moment, sipping our coffee. I opened my mouth to say something, but then closed it again. Link sensed my itch and looked at me, shaking his head and grumbling, "Don't Carmen..."

I did anyway. "Mr. Richards?" I called down the counter to the stranger. He looked up, finally allowing the light to stream onto his face. He was a younger than I expected and quite handsome. "Would you like some more coffee?"

"I'm fine, thank you," he answered.

"I'm sure yours is cold by now," I observed.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he nodded.

I stood up from my bar stool. Link grumbled into my ear, "He doesn't want your company."

I grabbed my hot coffee and glared at him. "Don't be silly, he's been staring at me this whole time," I hushed before leaving Link to approach the stranger. "Well then have my coffee, please," I insisted.

"Oh, no that's perfectly alright, ma'am," he chuckled.

"I don't mind. I'm awfully too awake right now to be drinking it. Do you mind if I sit here?" I asked.

He took his hat off politely and replied, "No, please sit down."

I sat down on the other edge of the corner. "So you're Mr. Richards," I started.

"Please, call me William. Will even, if you'd like," he corrected.

"Of course. I'm Carmen. Over there is Lincoln." I pointed to Link who was already in another conversation with Robert. "He's a good friend of mine."

William said quietly, "You know, I can't imagine there'd be anyone who wouldn't want your company."

"You heard that?" I blushed. "Link has never been a good whisperer."

"Oh I hear a lot of things. It's my job to listen," he chimed.

"I thought it was to write?" I inquired.

"Oh writing is only half of the job, at most. A good writer has to be a good listener," he explained.

"What else do good writers have to do?" I mused.

William answered, "Well, good writers have to experience things. New things- things outside their  comfort zone. They have to watch people and see places. They have to feel new things and new feelings. Good writers have to be alone."

"Wouldn't that be lonely?" I pondered.

He shrugged, "Well, I suppose it is sometimes. But sometimes it's actually quite the opposite. There's a difference between being alone and being lonely."

"I agree," I nodded. "What about tonight? Are you alone or lonely?"

William looked at me, allowing a soft smile to flicker over his solemn face. "If I was lonely before I'm not now."

I smiled back. Robert and Link's chattering filled the silence that separated us for a moment. A car drove by and the sound of a trash can toppling over clattered from across the street. It didn't take long for the streets to grow quiet again. I mentioned, "Robert told us you play an instrument?"

William shook his head. "I can play the guitar, but I only have a child's guitar so it's kind of silly."

He looked down to the ground on the right of him. I peered over the counter, following his gaze. There, hidden under the counter, sat a small guitar. "Why don't you get a new one?"

"I kind of like the small one. It's been my first and only guitar. It's not that I can't afford another- I just don't see the need for it," he explained.

"Why do you play on the street?"

He shrugged, "People seem to like it."

"Then you must be very talented. Will you play something for me?" I requested.

"Oh no, I don't think I should," he shook his head and glanced over to where Robert was standing.

"Oh, don't worry about him. They'll love it. Please don't be modest," I said.

"Well there is something I could play," he agreed, picking up the small guitar.

He plucked the strings to tune it and Robert and Link looked at us. Then William began to strum and pluck a beautiful melody. I motioned Link to sit next to me and he did so, Scout joining us as well. Then William began to sing and song. The diner was immediately full of beautiful music and Robert even began to bounce when the song picked up. It wasn't long before Link offered his hand and we danced on the slick, greasy floor.

When William finished the song, he gave it a rest. "That was lovely!" I exclaimed, sitting back down next to him. "You're so right to play in the streets- I wouldn't want to deprive anyone of such music."

"Thank you, Carmen," he smiled.

"More coffee?" Robert offered.

"I'll have some," Link nodded.

I shook my head and turned my attention back on William. "So, mister writer, you say you spend a lot of time observing?" I inquired and he nodded. "I assume you were making judgments on us. What did you think? Humor me."

William chuckled, "Well... I thought that Robert didn't like me very much. I thought you were a little..."

I urged him to continue, "What?"

"Insane. Perhaps a bit nosey. Wild."

"Excuse me?" I interrupted him.

"I'm not finished," he hushed. "You were still enchanting, I'll give you that. When you began to talk to me I realized that you are also kind and gentle. Care free. Confident. Joyful. Most importantly I thought that Link was the luckiest man in the world. Even if he was just a friend, he still got to be around you."

I don't remember if I responded to him or not. I'm sure I must have said something in return, but all I can recall is feeling taken aback and flattered.

William continued, "May I ask you a question?" I nodded. "How are you able to talk to strangers? More so, why do you talk to strangers?"

I waited a moment before I answered, "There are seven billion people on this earth and not one of them lives the same life. Every single person is different and everyone experiences different things. For so long I viewed people that I didn't know as 2D. I wasn't mindfully aware of the amazing stories that lie within every human being. Then I realized that I had been missing out on so much. There's so much that you can learn from others. I don't want to limit my intellect to the experiences of my closest circle. I want to know new people, I want to feel new feelings, I want to go new places, I want to see new things. I'm trying to get everything out of this life that I possibly can."

"Thank you, Carmen," William blinked. "You have opened my eyes to new worlds."

Link walked back to our end of the counter with Scout's leash. "Where to now, Carmen?" He asked happily. "To home, I hope?"

"Yeah, I think we will go home," I nodded. "I've made the most of my night." I got up from my bar stool.

"It was very nice meeting you," William stood up to shake Link's hand. "And you, Carmen," he shook mine as well. "Although, you spent all your time learning about me. I hope we'll see each other again, so that maybe I can ask you about yourselves."

"I'm sure we will," I nodded.

"Any time," Link agreed. "Accept for now- my eyes are glazing over." I linked my arm in Link's and we started for the door. "Take care, Robert!" Link called and I waved goodbye to the two men, no longer strangers, standing in the now quiet diner on the corner of Harlem Avenue and Whitaker Road.