Who: Łukasz Sapieha and Lillian Gallaster What: Chance meeting in a diner (PROMPT: COFFEE) When: Summer 1953 Where: A diner in Personville Warnings: None!
Łukasz sat at the far end of the diner's counter, far away from the door that rang the bell every time it opened and the ding of the cash register as the waitress rang up people's checks. He had two books spread in front of him and under that, sheaves of loose leaf paper with tight looping script (and plenty of cross outs). Both books bore the same title - Kon-Tiki. The only difference was the condition of the books and the language they were written in. The English version looked like it had only been opened a few times, but there were faint pencil scribbles in the margins. The dogeared copy in Polish was one that he'd picked up last month when he'd been in Chicago at the used bookstore that his aunt's church ran. He'd enjoyed the story, but the problem was the names - sometimes they translated them and then he wouldn't know who was being talked about in the English book. It would be easier if they just kept the names the same, even if they were strange and foreign.
"Cholera jaśna," he muttered under his breath as his hand knocked into the mug of lukewarm coffee.
It was good fortune that Lillian was walking down the aisle of the diner to her table when the cup overturned; she was in a good position to stop to protect the book the young man wasn't holding on to. There was a napkin on the next table over, and Lillian grabbed it to soak up the coffee before it could ruin whatever paperwork the young man had been working on. Despite her best efforts, a thin stream of coffee from the cup poured over the edge of the table onto the dingy linoleum of the floor. She wasn't sure she'd salvaged his book or his paperwork, and almost certainly not his pride.
"Sorry," she said, wincing a little at the mess. "I just didn't want to see it get all over your books." Her eyes narrowed a little as she started at the books to figure out what the one that wasn't Kon-Tiki was.
"Thank you," he said, the English still heavily accented as he scrambled for the papers, attempting to pull them out of the way of the rivulets of coffee. "I did not notice." Most of the papers were safe and he stacked them on the stool, dabbing them and the book with some of napkins. The papers were wet at the edges, but that would dry, luckily he had written in pencil and not pen so nothing had smudged. "You are good help."
"You're welcome--and thank you." The way the fellow spoke clarified the point she'd been missing: his accent was strong enough that Lillian was sure English was his second language. And now that she was looking at him and not the books and papers, she thought she recognized him. "I'm Lillian Gallaster. I work at the Herald. I've seen you around there." She didn't trail the end of the sentence upward to make it half a question the way some of the girls might have, just said it--but with a smile to keep it friendly.
"Łukasz Sapieha," he replied, the Polish lilting before he added. "People call me Luka or Lukas." Changing the Ł into more of an L sound since it was easier for Americans. He was getting used to the names. "Yes, my-" A pause, searching for the right word. "-friend works for the paper. Making photos." He mimed the action of taking pictures. "Benas."
"Benas, yes. The photographer." Lillian said the last word slowly enough that the young man--Lukas, she filed that name away for future reference--could hear it clearly and file it away for future reference. "He takes great pictures." She peered at his books again and recognized the American edition cover. "Kon-Tiki's a pretty good book. We covered it in our book club a couple of years ago." She let that dangle in the air in case Lukas was interested in the idea.
"Book club?" Lukas asked, not understanding the concepts. He knew the words, but clubs were for people, not objects, yes? "The story is very interesting, but sometimes the sentences, they are hard to understand, so I read it both ways." He motioned from the American edition to the Polish one. "But then they change the names so I am lost as to who does what. Not always, but sometimes is confusing." Confusing. Much about English was confusing. Even though he had been in the states a year longer than Benas, the other man had a better ear for languages.
"Ahhh." Lillian nodded knowingly, as if it were a problem she'd heard of and encountered before, though her own knowledge of another language was restricted to long-ago graduation requirements in French. "I can see how that would be a problem. The names." She circled back around to his question, which was more interesting to her: more recruits were always welcome. "I lead a book club--a club for people who enjoy books. Everyone reads the same book and then we talk about it. We meet once a month, so there's plenty of time to read the book."
Plenty of time if one knew the language, for certain, but he wasn't so sure if he could finish a book that quickly in English. It would be nice to read more books and have people to talk with about them. Perhaps it would be like the literary society meetings that his sister had gone to in Wilno. "What sort of books do you read?"
"Generally it's something published in the last few years, either a novel or nonfiction, and short enough that people can get through it. We don't exclusively pick from the bestseller lists or the Doubleday Book Club, but we've chosen from them in the past. The group votes on what to read so it varies from month to month." Lillian opened her purse, careful not to let it touch the damp top of the table, and fished out one of the mimeographed brochures with the list of books they were currently selecting from. "Here's some information, in case you think it might interest you--and Benas too. We'd love to see both of you."
He took the brochure and nodded his thanks. "I will think on it, yes," he said with a smile. "As long as the books are not too difficult. Do you ever read poetry?" He asked curiously, glancing at his pile of loose papers where he had scribbled some attempts at poetry. It would be a good chance to get out, for sure, and he would try to go, depending on what they were reading.
Lillian caught where Lukas' glance rested for a moment but didn't pry; she understood that a writer needed his secrets. "Occasionally," she answered. "Some people find poetry hard to extract meaning from, so unless it's a short volume, poetry doesn't always get that many votes." The tone of the reply suggested Lillian had opinions about that, which she was presumably too polite to express. (Particularly since some people couldn't be bothered to finish the book in the first place.)
"But that is the beauty of poetry!" Luka said excitedly, his eyes lighting up. "It can mean so many different things and the language is so beautiful and the word choice.." he stopped himself before he babbled too much. "Forgive me, I… enjoy poetry quite a bit."
But Lillian's expression had lit up approvingly at Lukas' outburst, and she gave him a broad smile. Even if he wasn't particularly keen on novels, his enthusiasm had won her approval. "I wish everybody got as much out of poetry as you do, Lukas." She glanced back at her table, where the waitress, lunch plate in hand, was looking around for her. "Listen, I've got to be on my way, but--do consider coming to Book Club next month. I think you could get a lot out of it, even if you don't finish the book."
Lukas flushed at the compliment and bowed his head. "I do my best." He glanced down at the brochure and smiled at her. "I will try, yes. Perhaps I will even bring Benas." He nodded in parting. "It was a pleasure to meet you Miss Gallaster."
"Oh, the pleasure's mine." Lillian offered Lukas her hand for a ladylike shake; she was not wearing a wedding band despite her age. "It's always nice to see a young man who's interested in the more literary side of life."
Her thoughts turned to her son, who was not a reader at heart and whom Lillian doubted ever would be. Why couldn't he be a bit more like Benas and Lukas here, who both had to work hard to master books, instead of interested in spending all that energy on sports?
Lukas took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on it. There had been little time for manners during the war, but his parents had instilled them in him in the time before the war. "My sister is the reason for that," Lukas said with a smile, though this one was a bit tighter. "She was a.. " he waved his hand around as he searched for the word. "She was friends with the poets and writers in our city. She taught me to memorize poems." Noticing the waitress, he ducked his head. "I do not wish to keep you from your lunch."
And wasn't he a charmer? Lillian found herself grinning at Lukas; he probably got lots of attention from the girls with that sort of old-fashioned courtesy. "You're too kind. But I'm sure we'll see each other again. And I want to hear about your sister and the bohemians she knew." She dropped the word into the conversation so he could pick it up without a special explanation: a habit she'd developed with Benas. "I'm looking forward to it."