The bar was almost empty, and the only clients were me, and a old man who seemed an homeless. Philip take care of him giving some food, and something warm to drink, and each time that old man was enter in the bar, make himself notice, but then he was settle himself to the table less in sight and he waiting for his turn patiently.
He was, already, client of Philip, before i made my first appearence in that neighborhood, and i had learn to love him, since the very first time i saw him entered in the pub.
He had a cane to support his walk, and his clothes were on brownish with all its fades, and were ruined, but he was able to dressing them with a great dignity: each time, before to enter he stopped, and he was looking trought the window, and if he was find, even a flap of his shirt out order, he was settled better, and just before to decide to enter, he was take a final look, and if he was think, that everything was ok, holding back the breathe, he came in.
Philip helped him each time he could.
I have seen him several time in front of the entrance, ready to enter, but seemed that he was in disagree with his aspect, and at end turning, and go away.
How many time he will have not eat, just because his clothes were old and snatched, and not suitable?
But this time he entered, and he sat in front of the smallest table of the local, just next to the big window facing the sidewalk.
Philip was always gentle with him, and when the homeless had the money to pay him, Philip often didn’t make him pay, and there was much grateful in homeless’ glance.
From my table, i could not see him well: the table where he was sat made corner with the wall that was hiding my safe place, but i could have hear his voice, and it was gentle.
I have seen him enter, therefore i could imagining him, and staring my little hole in the table, i had seen the whole scene, when the old man had order a glass of milk and some biscuits, someone else entered in the local.
When i heard that voice, all that floating atmosphere in which i was, all in a stroke, has fallen over my shoulders, and everything became once again the reality that in someways, i was waiting for.
In the local, that day, each one was at the place which the destiny wanted that we were: me in the bottom, at my table, hid behind the wooden curtain, you on the same green stool beyond the big counter, Philip behind of it, and the old man, there next to the window who was eating the biscuits with the glass of milk.
Philip asked you what do woud liked to have.
“A cup of coffee and one delicatessen, that one there, thanx.”
I was there, just few steps of distance, and i had listened once again your voice, unconsciously, i was biting the lips, and i blushed.
Philip has shared a glance with you when he has placed in front of you that cup o coffee, and you have simply nodded, thanked him in silence.
Then, pretending nothing Philip has asked you some information of where you lived, and from when you came from: you have replied to all that general questions in an affable way, without revealing nothing special, but when your voice has filled the empty local, i threw back on the back rest, and i made me craddling by it, knowing, even that Philip had done it above all for me.
I have closed the eyes, imagining you was in front of me at that table, but when you have say you had to return to take some boxes, Philip said you: “Will we see you this evening for an iced glass of beer”, and you have nodded, launching a quick glance toward my table. You had just saw a shadow, but to that shadow you have smiled.
I threw away all the air i had in body, looking at you come out, then staring Philip who shrugged smiling.
When he got back to the homeless, asking if he wanted something else, the old man said no, but he added something that left Philip speechless.
“They are not ready to meet themselves”, and nodding thanking him, he left the bar, leaving Philip petrified with the tray in hand.”
Listen to it ⇓⇓