Tale of Hans Kinderman: Part 1

It is 5:07 on a Wednesday at the Café de la Révolution. Two customers chat on a couch, sipping their Sartres. Another leafs through the Oxford History of the French Revolution. Danni is behind the counter, cleaning off the espresso machine while humming the Marseillaise. All of the sudden the front door opens. A melancholic figure wearing a large cloak enters and approaches the counter. Danni wipes her hands on her apron and turns around to greet the customer. The mysterious guest pulls off her hood and reveals her face. Danni is immediately stunned in horror. A haunting silence fills the café.

Guest: So you recognize me.

Danni: (Looks intently at the guest’s face.) Of course I recognize you.

Guest: You know why I’m here then.

Danni: (Glances at the calendar hanging on the wall. Closes her eyes for a moment and focuses her attention back to her guest.) Yes.

Guest: I hoped that you had not forgotten.

Danni: No. That would be impossible.

Guest: It would have been terrible if you had forgotten.

Danni: As I said, I did not forget.

Guest: Good. That would have broken my heart. And you’ve already done that. I can’t bear the thought of going through that pain all over again.

Danni: I’m sorry.

Guest: I didn’t come here for an apology.

Danni: Alright. What can I get you then?

Guest: I didn’t come here for coffee either.

Guest: I came here for revenge.

Danni remains silent. Closing her eyes, she imagines letting out a scream. How dare she come in here and say something like that? Especially today, the vicennial of Hans Kinderman's death. Danni opens her eyes and looks at the woman standing in front of her. She studies the ragged eyepatch the wrinkles protruding all across her face. She had never before seen such profound yet fatigued lines. She never would have imagined that this same old and miserable woman was once that young and lively Liz she knew so many years ago.

Serves her right, that bitch.

After a pause, Danni decides to ignore Liz’s threat. Searching for a teapot, she urges her guest to sit down. Despite her irritation, the prude does without much resistance. Danni follows with the teapot in hand, hoping a cup of hot tea would calm her old acquaintance. While pouring the hot water, Danni feels Liz’s glower and ire. Sitting back in her chair, Danni looks again at the old woman, trying to rekindle the image she once held of her.

Danni: (While sipping her tea) So, Liz, how are the cats?

To be continued.