THE READING NOOK

THE READING NOOK One Week With Kyle Hodge

by Christopher Barnes

Chapter 1 “What can I get for you?” the cashier asked me, pleasantly.

I stared up at the menu, lost in the grandes and the lattes, the espressos and the Americanos. It was like I had never had coffee before. I didn’t know what any of these words meant, and I was beginning to hold up the line.

“The vanilla latte is my favorite,” a man said, from a nearby table.

I looked back to find a man in his late 30s, sipping a steaming vanilla latte as he sat at his computer.

That was the first time I saw Kyle Hodge. “Okay, sure. I’ll have a medium vanilla latte,” I told the cashier.

After I paid, I turned around to thank the man who had assisted me, but he was gone. When I got my drink, I was overcome with curiosity and couldn’t help but ask who the man was.

“Oh, that’s Kyle Hodge,” the woman behind the counter told me. “He comes here every morning, gets the same thing, and then sits at his computer typing away for an hour or two.” “Really? What’s he typing?” I don’t really know why I continued the conversation to be honest. Maybe I thought the employee was pretty, and I just wanted to keep talking to her. Maybe I was genuinely curious about this Kyle person. Or maybe I was just making small talk as I tasted the vanilla latte. “No clue,” she replied, thoughtlessly. “But he types for an hour every morning? Doesn’t he have somewhere else to be?” “Apparently, not.”

She wiped off a metal pitcher, then looked at me impatiently. She wanted me to stop bothering her.

“Weird, well thank you! Have a nice day,” I said, spinning on my heel and practically running out of the café.

I was suddenly driven to find Kyle again. I looked both ways down the sidewalk, but it was clear to me that he was long gone. I frowned, frustrated.

It wasn’t like Kyle was anything special. He was average height and average weight, with average brown hair that was an average length, but just the fact that he didn’t have to be at work, or anywhere in particular every morning was just stupefying.

How did a man in his late 30s have no responsibilities? I would’ve thought he was a hobo if he hadn’t been decently dressed and using a somewhat expensive laptop.

As I made my way to my own job, I knew I had to return to that café the next day. I had to solve the mystery of Kyle Hodge.

I returned the next day, a bit earlier, and Kyle was sitting there at the same table he had been at the previous day.

I ordered my vanilla latte, took it from the impatient woman, and then sat down at Kyle’s table without a word.

He looked up at me over his laptop, and I swear a slight smiled flashed across his face. “Can I help you?” he asked. “Yeah,” I said, sipping my vanilla latte, “You can tell me what you’re doing.”

I came off a bit rude and pushy, but I was kind of annoyed at how much he’d been on my mind the past 24 hours. I really just wanted answers.

“Well, I’m drinking a vanilla latte,” he answered, taking a long drink.

“No, I mean how do you have the time to sit here on your computer every morning? Don’t you have a job? A wife? Kids? Any sort of responsibilities?”

Kyle blew on his latte. “Of course I do. I work, I have a beautiful wife and an amazing daughter.”

I was mildly surprised, but somehow I knew he wasn’t as average as he looked.

“Then how do you have the time to do this each morning?” I asked him.

“I think the more important thing here is that you don’t have the time to do this every morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I started to feel defensive.

Somehow it felt like he was criticizing me for actually taking care of my responsibilities.

He didn’t answer though and instead shut his laptop, slipped it into his bag, and stood from our table. He left without a word and left me sitting there with more questions than I had arrived with.

That was the first time I spoke to Kyle Hodge.

Chapter 2

I came back the next day, ordered the same vanilla latte, and then sat down where Kyle was typing away.

He looked up at me, just over his laptop screen, and his eyes smiled, but his lips didn’t move. “Need something?” he asked. “What’s your wife doing right now?” I was going to get answers out of him even if I had to drag them out.

“Well, I assume she’s feeding our daughter breakfast. It is breakfast time you know,” he told me, still typing away.

He didn’t even look at me as he answered, it was as if it were all rehearsed. “Shouldn’t you be there? What kind of father ditches his family to sit in a coffee shop every morning?”

“It only takes two hands to fill a bowl with cereal. Why should I have to be there?”

He glanced at me, but only for a fleeting moment.

“To watch your daughter grow!” I raised my voice a bit too loud and a few people glanced at us.

“Nah,” was all he said, shaking his head nonchalantly.

I was appalled. How could a guy who seemed like such a good person be so uncaring about his family?

“You do understand what being a father means, don’t you?”

I wasn’t so sure anymore that Kyle was a respectable man.

“Of course, I do. I know what I’m doing, and my wife knows what I’m doing, and my daughter knows what I’m doing. Besides, my parenting style is none of your business,” he spoke calmly, but firmly.

“Fine,” I said, “Fine, you know what? I don’t care. Your daughter’s probably missing her dad right now, but if you don’t care then so be it.” I got up angrily and stomped out of the café, leaving my latte sitting in front of him.

That was the first time I cared about Kyle Hodge.

Our story continues next month!

Christopher Barnes is a graduate of Medina High School/Medina County Career Center and The Ohio State University. Find his stories of realistic fiction and magical realism at http://cbthesurvivor