Charlie's hands shake as she wraps the steaming breakfast sandwich in an embossed sheet of foil. The capability of violence pounds in her veins as Brett continues. "I don't know whose idea it was to put the trash can there, but it makes so much more sense here! So I fixed it, also..." Charlie begins to hum, it's stupid and it doesn't help. So, she does it louder. Brett scrunches his little gremlin face up in annoyance "We should talk about sani buckets..." the fluorescent lights begin to flicker forebodingly.
Now it was bins and buckets, earlier it had been the placement of the espresso dump box. Handing off the completed order to a familiar weathered face, she manages a lukewarm smile. Nodding curtly, Mr. Davis meanders off to one of the wooden tables that dot the otherwise empty space. It was slow for a Saturday, providing plenty of time for Charlie and Brett to bond.
The universe must have sensed Charlie's distress, for at that moment a burst of rain ushered a gaggle of women into the cafe. Outside, the downpour swelled as lightning clawed the sky, flashing in the bay windows of the storefront. Excited chatter continued seamlessly as they regrouped, which they deemed appropriate to conclude in front of the counter. As Charlie eavesdropped for any seed of interesting conversation, Brett eyed the pooling water under their shoes.
"I just love going out to Hocking Hills to camp!" One woman beams, as she finishes an account of a recent trip. Charlie hangs on to her words, brushing a strand of golden brown hair from her ear. As a lover of the outdoors, she is always looking for a new spot to visit. Brett scoffs as he begins wiping down the syrup bottles for the twentieth time since his shift started two hours ago. Locking eyes with Charlie he breathes "Ugh. I hate nature." in the hushed undertone of a co-conspirator.
The storm continues for a while, capturing the group of women, while dissuading new additions. Lively chatter floats over to the counter from their table, recentering Charlie in pleasant thoughts as the rain lashes the windows. A dashing hero in the form of inspiration has whisked her from the impending doom of Brett's banter. He was busy scrubbing out the back cooler, leaving her in peace.
Charlie's dark brown eyes are framed by side swept bangs, she leans on the points of her elbows, holding her head as she gazes out the window. The stones of the building across the street provide shelter for waylaid birds in their cracks, she sees small faces peer out as life marches on without them. A woman with two small children tries to cover them all under an umbrella with elephants printed along it's edge, urging them on with a breathless look. Charlie's eyes drift over to the microphone in the corner of the shop, standing vigil under the light of a sconce.
"Hey, I noticed that the bins we use to rotate stock were getting a bit grimy, so I ran them through the dishwasher." Brett's sudden intrusion into her daydreams causes Charlie to jump. "Okay, yeah. Great man!" She tries to be friendly; she really does. The rain comes to a stop outside, signaling to the group of women to begin gathering their items. Brett continues to illuminate his accomplishments, as Charlie wonders if he's ever considered the way he sounds to others.
A teenage couple comes and goes, frozen mochas in hand as they depart the coffee house. The velvety smell of espresso fills the space, reminding Charlie that she loves this job. Slack shoulders, feel the atmosphere, ignore the gremlin... "Eck. young love is so cringey!" Brett hacks out. Who the hell broke this man?
Slack jawed; Brett's eyes follow Charlie as she throws her apron on the floor. Shaking out her glossy brown hair from the grips of the cafe hat, she struts away. He can't help it, poor Brett, he immediately picks the apron up from the floor. Aghast, several sentences seem to form and dissolve on his lips as his concern grows. She didn't wipe the station down before she walked away!
Turning sharply on a booted heel, Charlie spins from the hip in front of the cafe microphone, scooping it up. She hits it against an open palm, earning a reproachful gaze from the lone customer in the joint. "Sorry Mr. Davis." her voice is sultry as it drips from the speaker system mounted along the brick walls. Why was he still in here? "You kids horse off too much!" he asserts, excusing himself from the nonsense in a burst of street noise. The front door bangs shut, its bell ringing out.
"Brett, life is short, and young love is beautiful. You hate nature because you hate yourself. Let it out guy, you can't make the world grey for everyone else too." Her silky voice transitions to a melodical vibration as she wiggles some slack from the mics cord. "Well it aint no use to sit and wonder why babe, iffin you don't know by now..." Charlie is an alto, her voice sways low as she belts out the into to "don't think twice, it's all right".
In a crowed bar Charlie sings karaoke, patrons whoop in glee as she hits the difficult notes that are normally butchered on these sticky floors. Swaying in the flow of the twangy guitar, she isn't singing to them, but to the universe. To sing is to celebrate life, to channel sweetness through your being. Her voice swells as stuffed shirts lean forward on their stools to soak up each wave "You're the reason I'm a travelling on, but don't think twice..." she is fire flickering in drunk eyes.
On the ocean floor she concludes her performance, bowing to the shark that lurks with dead eyes. The sea turtles clap, as she walks from the stage. Bubbles float from the mouth of Brett, his garbled words lost as he flicks his hand away from the wandering tickle of seaweed. A computer monitor glows in the depths of a treasure chest, her fingers open up its touch screen interface. "My shift is over." She says as fish try to nibble at her toes.
Brett blinks, once, twice. Her hand is on the door; like an animal she pushes on the glass in her haste to exit. The breeze files in, caressing his hair as he scrunches up his face once more. Pulling a towel along on his journey to tidy the tables, he speaks to the empty cafe "These tables are a mess, I'm gonna wipe them down."
This is my submission for The Ink Well's weekly prompt, this week we were beckoned to write with the word "foil". I'm certain I have written a foil before, but I've never done it intentionally! Here I attempted to "show not tell" the vast difference in character between Charlie and Brett, as well as how he foils her mood. Hope you've enjoyed my story, thank you for reading along!