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Kiosk

Anthony R Pezzula

    James walked through the mall tying to clear his head, trying to shake the mood he was in. It wouldn’t be easy, it never was.
    On one pass when he reached the end of the mall he decided to circulate down a little used corridor that led to one of the entryways intending to then head back to the other end. That’s when he saw the kiosk and the strange little man on duty. The man sat on a stool near the kiosk as other kiosk merchants did. He was thin, and looked to be of small height since his legs dangled far from the floor. He had on a cowboy hat with what looked like a snakeskin band around it. A ponytail snuck out of the back of his hat. He had tattoos on one arm that gave the impression of being a sleeve; all kinds of colors and designs that went right down to his wrist. He wore a black tee shirt over light blue jeans, and brown cowboy boots. His face was skinny and it looked like he had a day’s growth of beard. Not an unpleasant face, but not one you’d want to look at too long either.
    But what drew James’ attention was not just the little man, but also the sign on the kiosk. It said “We Have What You’re Looking For.” Strangely though, there were no items on the kiosk’s shelves. It looked completely empty. Yet the man sat there waiting for customers like all the other kiosk attendees. James couldn’t help himself, and approached the little man.
    “Excuse me,” he said, “just what do you sell here?”
    “I sell whatever you’re looking for,” replied the man pointing to the sign.
    “But there’s nothing on your shelves; how are people supposed to know what you have available?”
    “Oh, I think we might have what you’re looking for James,” said the man as a smile spread across his thin lips.
    “How do you know my name?” said James.
    The man just shrugged and went on, ignoring the question, “Why are you here James?”
    “I wanted to see what you’re selling.”
    “No,” he said smiling, showing beady little teeth a bit yellowed, but not rotten, “I mean why are you at the mall today?”
    “Today’s not a good day for me,” James replied strangely feeling the need to confide in this guy, “not good memories, you know?”
    “Everyone has bad memories,” the man said, letting his eyes wander as though thinking of his own, “why is today so different?”
    “It would have been the fourth anniversary of our first date.”
    “Ah...a woman.”
    “Not just a woman, the woman. She was the one, and we celebrated the day of our first date, first every month, then every year for the three years we were together.”
    “So what happened?” the man said as he brushed some dust from his boots.
    “She broke it off a year or so ago shortly before I was going to be deployed to Afghanistan.”
    “Harsh,” said the man shaking his head.
    “Aw I think things were headed that way anyway, she said we were going in different directions, she needed to grow, or some such stuff. Probably did me a favor by telling me in person rather than sending me a letter while I was there.”
    “’Suppose,” said the man, “but still, she maybe could have waited ‘til you got back.”
    “Maybe,” James said, “but in the end it didn’t really matter, I knew I was losing her anyway.”
    “Sounds like you’re not over her yet.”
    “No, I guess I’m not. Things seemed to go downhill from there. I came back a few months ago and haven’t been able to find any work yet.”
    “Tough times,” said the man stroking his chin while giving James a long look “seems like there’s more though. Something else bothering you?”
    “Yeah,” said James, dropping his eyes. Feeling the need to continue to unload, he went on, “I got word last week that one of my buddies over there got killed.”
    “I see,” said the man giving James a look that invited continuation.
    “We built a school for girls in a small village in Kandahar Province, a tough place. Some of those kids have never been to school, never got a chance at an education you know. We are doing some good shit over there.”
    “No doubt,” said the man nodding while keeping his eyes locked on James’.
    “Anyway, last month his platoon was guarding the school, there were reports that the Taliban might attack it and try to destroy it. The platoon was escorting students into the small building,” James hesitated, the words stuck in his throat. After a brief silence James felt encouraged to continue by the man’s intent stare. “One of the girls blew herself up, can you believe that?”
    The man just shook his head but remained silent.
    “I mean what kind of world is this where people can convince a young girl with her future ahead of her, to do something like that? My buddy, all the troops over there, doing something good, and die for it? I mean will the insanity ever stop? We got people trying to kill us over there, we got people trying to come here and kill us. I don’t know, I don’t know,” James repeated, his voice trailing off, “what’s the use?”
    The man just shrugged, once again ignoring the question.
    “Its days like this that I get a little overwhelmed with everything, you know? I get these thoughts that I don’t like to get, so I come here just so I won’t be alone, just to be around people.”
    The man remained silent for a minute letting James recover a bit. “I think I have something here you’ll like James,” he said bending to pull open one of the kiosk drawers. He pulled out a ring with a silver band and black onyx stone and handed it to James.
    “Nice ring,” James said taking it from the man and welcoming the change of subject, “but I’m not one for jewelry, besides, I don’t think I can afford it right now anyway.”
    “I didn’t even say how much it was.”
    “So how much is it?”
    “It’s whatever you think its worth. Look why don’t you take it for a spin. Put it on go for a walk. Then when you come back you can tell me if you want it and how much you want to pay for it. How does that sound?”
    James looked at him skeptically, “What’s to prevent me from just taking off with it?”
    “I trust you James; I don’t think you’ll do that. Go on now, put it on and go. I think you’ll like wearing it. Go on.”
    James hesitated, then slipped the ring on his finger and started walking away. As he approached the main mall he glanced back at the kiosk and the funny little man, who just sat there waiting for his next customer not looking after James at all. James laughed to himself figuring he’d humor the guy, come back and return the ring.
    Near the middle of the mall James decided to duck into a Starbucks and get a cup of coffee. “Small decaf please,” he said to the girl behind the counter.
    “Coming right up,” she said smiling brightly, “want a muffin to go along with that?”
    “No, just the coffee.”
    “How about a biscotti, they’re really good.”
    “Um, no, just the coffee please.”
    “Our giant cookies are very tasty, hard to resist, how about one of those?”
    “Look,” James said, “I know you have to try to sell stuff, but I just want a cup of coffee okay; no cookie, muffin or any other pastry, just coffee.”
    “Okay,” she said keeping her cheerfulness, “that’ll be $3.29”
    James reached into his wallet and handed her four singles. She gasped as she took them.
    “What’s the matter?” James said in alarm.
    “Oh, sorry,” she said, still looking at his hand, “it’s just that ring is exactly like one my daddy used to wear.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah,” she said while not taking her eyes off it. “He never took it off, he liked it so. My momma gave it to him years ago and he treasured it. He was buried with it on.”
    “Oh, sorry,” James said sheepishly.
    “That’s okay, thanks. Mind if I ask where you got it?”
    “As a matter of fact right here at the mall at one of those kiosks. I’m not sure I’m gonna keep it though, I’m going back there to let the guy know.”
    “I have a break in about ten minutes; mind if I go with you? I’d like to see if they have any more like that one.”
    “No, not at all,” James said, looking at her as though for the first time. She was pretty enough, short brown hair, one of those faces that always seemed to be smiling. He wouldn’t mind spending some time with her. “I’ll grab a table over here and wait until your break.”
    “Thanks,” she said giving him a warm smile, “I appreciate it.”
    A short time later she came up to his table, apron off, black slacks with a white sweater. It looked like she combed her hair, making James feel flattered.
    “Okay, let’s go,” she said with that ever-present smile.
    James got up, discarded his coffee cup, and they headed back down the mall from the direction he came.
    “By the way,” he said, “my name is James.”
    “Mine’s Tara,” she replied.
    “Tara?”
    “My momma was a big Gone with the Wind fan.”
    “I see,” he said, “that’s a pretty name.”
    “Yeah, its okay I guess. I have sisters named Scarlett and Melanie.”
    “You don’t have a sister named Mammy do you?” he said laughing.
    “No,” she laughed in return, “but besides my older brother Rhett, my younger brother got stuck with Ashley.”
    “Ouch,” said James, “I was never a big fan of Ashley’s, seemed a bit of a wimp.”
    “Yeah, my brother feels the same so insists on being called Edward, his middle name, and my daddy’s name.”
    “I don’t blame him,” replied James.
    “So what do you do?” she asked as they continued to walk.
    “Right now I’m between jobs,” he said the darkness crossing his face briefly.
    “Tough time to be there huh?”
    “Yeah, sure is.”
    “Listen,” she said brightening, “my manager owns a few franchises in the area, I can see if he has any openings, you know, something to tide you over.”
    James looked at her, captured by her smile and enthusiasm. Pushing coffee was not something he was cut out to do, but maybe she was right, it would be some income while he waited for things to get better. He could still pursue programming work; still send out resumes. “Sure, that would be great, thanks.”
    “Who knows, maybe we’ll wind up working together,” she said smiling while blushing slightly.
    “Yeah, who knows,” said James relishing the thought and feeling a whole lot better.
    They approached the corridor where the kiosk was located, but as they walked toward its location, James saw it was covered in canvass, and the funny little man was nowhere in sight. “Hum,” he mumbled, “this is where I got it, wonder where he went?”
    “Are you sure,” she said doubtfully, “this looks like it hasn’t been used in some time, look at the dust on it.”
    “Yeah I’m sure. This strange little guy was sitting right here on this stool.”
    “You mean this dusty one here?”
    James rubbed his finger through the dust on the stool. “Yeah, I don’t get it,” he said, half to her and half to himself.
    “Why don’t you look inside the ring and see if there’s any identifying information in there, a company name or something.”
    James took off the ring and looked inside. “Huh,” he said.
    “What? Does it say anything?”
    “Yeah, it says ‘spes’”
    “What’s that, some kind of foreign language?”
    “It’s Latin.”
    “What does it mean?”
    “Hope.”

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