As I walked in, there was a man sitting in the middle of the room, smiling and looking at people around him talking, laughing, and eating.
I went back to put my soy milk into the fridge the day after, and I saw him again sitting at the same table, doing the exact same thing. I nodded as he smiled. That image kept me awake all night (could have been Curtis’s snoring as well).
The final day of our stay, and he was there again. This time I approached and talked to him, solely small chats as I packed my food from the fridge. A nice old man like usual. I noticed he was having a cup of tea, so I was simply sharing that I couldn’t have my tea since I didn’t bring my mug with me, and there was none in the kitchen. He suddenly stood up as he offered that I could use one of his cups, and so a small chat becomes a T chat.
“So, what are your plans for today?”
“Ah, nothing much, you know? I may go and pick up my groceries.”
“Oh, I mean… are you gonna check out any tourist attractions around here?”
“Hmm… Ah… I may go down the lake and take some photos, you know?”
Pardon? We were in like “Queenstown of the north.” People try to make the most of every day in this town. But, as we talked, I was taken aback to find out that he has stayed there for more than 6 months and is going to stay for a couple of weeks more. It’s like his home already, and suddenly the conversation earlier made so much sense.
I didn’t have to ask to know that he was by himself though surrounded by hundreds of other people every day. He was eager to tell his stories of what he has done, of where he was before, but the tea went cold, the sun went high, and my mates went awake.
The last smile haunted me for days later.
“Goodbye Michael”
“Bye Woody”
A cup of tea, a cup of time, a cup of touch – human touch, a cup of T…
THE WHALY 