Bombs Bomb Away

Bombs Bomb Away – Elephant Stone (listen in new tab)

Claire called a general staff meeting for Monday night. Café Ulysses had never had one before. For the auspicious occasion, she closed a little early and had Danielle push four tables together to form a sort of larger round table.

Claire stands by the door. It’s 9:00. She flips the sign from Open to Closed as K walks up. She opens the door for him.

K: “This is gonna be fun, isn’t it.”

Claire: “I’m excited.” She genuinely is.

Since Saturday, she’d turned the store inside out. She had pulled two old floppy pink notebooks out of her closet and then filled one, penning in list after list. Diagrams. Quick math. Contact ideas and numbers. Shift restructuring. Anything that she thought she might help.

By the time she was done, she had dismantled the ligaments of Esther’s Ulysses. After the gutting, Claire inscribed the first faded Hilroy with a new anatomy of the café’s future. The second is for the proceedings of tonight.

Zoe slouches in. She’s in her PJs. “I’ve been studying. Will this take long?”

And then Camille, the international student, saunters in with his usual cavalier smile. He sits, draping himself over a chair, calls out to Danielle to make him an espresso.

Danielle snorts at him, hands on hips. “The machine’s clean. You can make one, if you want to clean it.”

Camille: “Well.”

Claire: “There’s some fresh drip if you’re desperate.”

Camille: “Desperate times, indeed.” He pulls himself up and heads around the counter.

Lucile arrives next. She has been around since Claire started. She’s older, but shuns any responsibility. She’s married with two kids under four. She comes here to escape.

When Annette (she’s a veteran, too) arrives, she stumbles on the bottom of the door frame. She smiles coyly, tries to laugh it off. Lucile shoots her a cruel smile. They’ve never gotten along. Claire has to schedule them on opposite shifts.

Lucile: “At the bar?”

Annette: “Yeah. They’re waiting for me around the corner. Wanna come, mom?”

Claire has always imagined that they’re each jealous of the other.

Last to come is Hera. She bends over outside the door, hand to her chest. Her face is flushed. She ran from the subway stop to be close to on time. She comes in, locking the door behind her.

Claire waits in her chair for everyone to get a coffee and settle in. They make small talk. Hera and Danielle trade jokes. Camille slides in beside Annette, tries to chat her up. Lucile talks to Zoe about the cats out back. Claire looks from face to face. She doesn’t know if they’ve ever all been in one room.

K sits down at her right, pulling his chair awkwardly in, bumping the table with his knees. He looks down at the two notebooks she’s produced from her purse. He moves the grab one. Claire smacks his hand.

Claire opens the blank notebook to the first page. Places a pen beside it. She clears her throat. Stands up. “Ok. Let’s get started. I’m sure we all want to get home sometime tonight.”

Nervous laughter.

Her whole life, she’d never been much of a public speaker. She can talk to any one, one to one, customers, boys, anyone, but get up to make a speech and her throat starts to close in around her words.

She opens her mouth expecting no sound. She knows the facts that matter. “I don’t want this store to close. I’m sure that we all feel the same. But, we all know Ulysses hasn’t been doing as well lately.”

She is interrupted by a loud rap on the door. Without looking, Danielle, her arm hanging callously over the back of her chair, yells loudly: “We’re closed.”

But, K is out of his chair (making a loud scraping sound that causes Zoe to cover her ears in annoyance) and unlocking the door. G.T. comes in, sits at one of the tables against the windows.

Claire: “Do you want to join us?”

G.T. waves his hand as if to bat the idea away. “Ah, no. I’m not a voting member.” He gives her a reassuring smile.

Claire’s mind flits back to Saturday morning. She composes herself once more. Deep breath. “Ok. Like I was saying…” Her talk goes well. Well enough. She knew everyone wouldn’t be on board for all the changes right away. But, it’s a place to start, at least.

At the end, she asks for any last suggestions. Hera’s hand shoots up. Camille laughs.

Danielle: “You don’t have to raise your hand, dear.”

Hera drops her arm. “It’s just that I have a pretty good idea. You didn’t like it before, Claire. But, I really think it’ll help.” She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a folded photocopied flyer. She flattens it quickly on the table. “Seriously, everyone, two words: Café Olympics.”