For anyone that was a regular at Denim’s Cafe, I was more than just a regular face there. I was there before the earliest customer and I was always the last to leave. The man with his nose forever buried in a newspaper, who spent the whole day gulping cup after cup of coffee. I wasn’t oblivious to the rumours or the wild speculations about me but I didn’t let it get to me even though I knew most of them were true.
I didn’t have a purpose. But I had dreams and I was just waiting for the right opportunity. Maybe lazy was the word most people would call it, but it didn’t matter since I still had my dream in view. And as I looked at a portion of today’s newspaper, I couldn’t believe my stroke of luck.
HOW FAR CAN YOUR LOVE OF COFFEE TAKE YOU?
It was a bizarre ad but damn if I didn’t scour through it like my life was at stake. Finally, there was a chance to escape the joke that was my life. An adventure of a lifetime. I quickly dialled the contact info and was directed by the person on the other end on where to go and what to do. And as I walked out of Denim’s Café that evening, I knew my life was about to take a new turn.
We had been paired into groups of four bringing it to a total of five groups heading into the jungle that morning. We were given a wagon and we were told that the first group to deliver it to the people waiting at the other end of the town would get the grand prize. We didn’t know what it was but we were told that it would be worth our while.
And so, we set off. I and four strangers. I wondered how I was expected to follow the last part of the organizers' rule. Bond together. How was it possible to trust people I’d never met before now and expect that they wouldn’t try to double-cross me? They all looked friendly enough but with how the world had turned, you could never be too sure.
The five groups were to set on different paths although all of them led to one direction. And as we pushed the heavy wagon, conversation flowed.
“Hey,” a burly team member called out to the rest of us. “Can we all introduce ourselves? We have a long journey ahead. Might as well get it out of the way.” He scanned our faces and when it seemed no one was forthcoming, he expelled a sigh. “I’ll start first then.”
“I’m Taylor. I’ve been working with the Fire Service for two decades now after I lost my wife and two kids to a fire accident while I was at work. I was a wreck since then. But then I joined the Fire Service and finally found purpose. I resigned last week and I’m just going to see where life takes me.”
He turned to look at us encouragingly and the only woman in our team began. “I’m Willow. Autistic from birth. I faced a lot of ostracization and I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere. I’ve always wanted to be with people that I could call home. I joined the Coffee Lovers Association and it became my home. I’m hoping to find a home in my new adventure with you all.”
Everyone smiled at her as she turned to look at us since she was pushing the wagon from the front. After then, the remaining two said their stories and it wasn’t only the woman that had tears in her eyes afterwards. I was lost in thought for a moment till someone coughed and I was brought back to the reality of four pairs of eyes looking at me expectantly.
“Anything to say pal?” the one beside me, Gary asked.
“Well,” I hesitated, feeling the embarrassment envelope me. “It feels kind of weird talking about my story when you all have had such devastating pasts. But the thing is, nothing of that sort happened to me. I always lived a privileged life. I have no sad backgrounds that moulded me, no offence. But all I can say is that I have dreams. And until I realize them, I guess I’ll keep searching.”
For some reason, my story made them all smile and Gary even left the pushing for a second to pay my back. And I just knew from then, that I’ve finally found my people. Talking about ourselves bonded us and we were no longer so keen on the race as we laughed and sang and even went as far as stopping for a three minutes coffee break.
We rolled our wagon to the finishing line, tired but strangely invigorated at the same time. We knew we hadn’t won so we didn’t even bother asking the people at the end of the line. But they came to us with some papers and randomly called on us to answer things about each other. I was asked what Gary’s favourite food was and Gary was asked what genre of music Willow preferred.
It was the most bizarre thing but in the end, the organizers smiled surprisingly and said it was all part of the race. To prove that coffee bonded people more than anything. And that we had just aced it. The key to the wagon was provided then and we opened to see a year’s worth of coffee beans and other supplies.
We were told that since we didn’t win the race, we couldn’t get the cash prize but they wished us the best of luck with our gifts.
“So what’s the next step?” I asked.
“I say we explore this jungle together. As a family.”
“Sounds good to me.” We smiled in agreement.
Coffee finally gave me a purpose and a family I never thought I’d have.