A miracle

Though the coffee shop now offered a wide selection of sizes and shades and frothiness, he still always ordered the same thing, and sunk himself in the same sofa in the corner, every day at the same time. And he always had a novel; only the title changed. But sometimes the caffeine hit him differently, like today, and instead of perking him up it just numbed his brain and made him feel sleepier. This time he must have actually fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes he noticed his fingers had slipped from the pages and he'd lost his place. That's when he heard the man whispering angrily at the cashier.

"That's all there is? There must be more." He glanced at the man, then blinked twice, because his eyes felt sleepy and untrustworthy. But the man was still there, pushing cash into his jacket pocket with his left hand, while holding something long and dark in his right hand, holding it close to his body, but where the cashier could see it. Both the young women behind the counter were staring at the right hand and not at the man's face. The harsh whisper came again. "There has to be more than this! Is there a safe?" "We don't have the combination." "What? You... Your wallets, gimme your wallets!" Now the fear was creeping out of his stomach and up into his chest. He was the only customer in the coffee shop. Had the man seen him? Suddenly his own wallet was uncomfortable under him. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want the women to get hurt, but what could he do if the guy had a gun? And if he approached them, wouldn't that just agitate the man even more? He felt incredibly awake now, but he was paralyzed on the couch with the book clutched tightly in his hands. Just pretend you don't know what's happening...

"OK, get in the back," the man rasped, "now!" The women started to move, but he kept his head bowed and his unfocused eyes on the pages. They were coming his way. Towards the door marked "Employees Only" not more than ten feet from where he sat. He could feel the man looking at him now, and he didn't move, didn't dare look up and connect with the man's interrogating eyes. As the three approached the door, he braced himself. He was in full view, there was no way the man could miss him. Adrenaline pumped and his legs and back tensed--then they were through the door and he was running.

He was out on the sidewalk in a second, running wildly, jerking his eyes in every direction looking for the dark uniform or white car with lights on top that would save him. And rescue them. But there was nothing, no squad cars, no traffic at all, not another person in sight. Only the sound of his feet. Then behind him the door slammed again and there was a shout and the sound of other feet. He didn't need to look back over his shoulder, but he couldn't help it. The man was coming after him.

Then the adrenaline took over completely and he couldn't hear anything. There was only the instinctive pounding of his legs and the frantic search for a place to hide--then he was throwing himself through a door and slamming it, pushing all his weight against it as he fumbled with the lock. "Call 911!" he shouted at the startled woman behind the counter. "He's got a gun!" But the man was already there, pounding on the glass door. The woman screamed. He glanced wildly at his pursuer, saw the gun come up, and couldn't move. "Get down!" the woman shrieked. But he could only stare at the man who would kill him.

Then the man jerked his head to the right as if he'd heard something, hesitated, then shoved the gun in his pocket and ran.

"Oh, thank God!" the woman gasped, rushing for the phone. And releasing him from the vision of his own death. He crumbled into a pile on the floor. For several minutes his mind was blank with shock, then the questions rushed in. How had he been overlooked in the coffee shop? Obviously the guy didn't want witnesses, because as soon as he ran the man came after him. Had he really just not been seen, when he was right there in plain view? But thank God the guy came out of there and away from the women. Was this some kind of miracle? Did God hide him from the man's eyes just long enough for him to escape?

"They're coming." The woman was approaching him now. "Are you OK?" He nodded slowly, distractedly. All he could think to say was "I couldn't get the lock to turn..." "Yeah," she was shaking her head, "that's because it's automatic. We put it in because this neighborhood's getting so bad. It always locks as soon as the door closes; I have to push a button to let anyone in. That's what I don't understand. How could you get in?" He just stared at her. "It must have been some kind of malfunction, or some kind of miracle. It never did that before. You've been saying your prayers every night, or something--someone's watching over you." 

He believed that, and suddenly he was saying his prayers right there on the floor. God was so good. And so powerful--he'd managed to save both him and those women. He suddenly believed that without question, and he was filled with gratitude and an overwhelming sense of peace and security. Someone was watching over him. He really believed that. And that changed everything, didn't it? The door buzzed and two policemen entered.

Didn't it? He frowned. But did it? Did it really make a difference?

Did it make him different? He opened his eyes and noticed his fingers had slipped from the pages and he'd lost his place. Then he heard a man whispering angrily at the cashier.

"That's all there is? There must be more." He glanced at the man, then blinked twice. But the man was still there, with cash in his left hand and something long and dark in his right hand, close to his body. Both the women behind the counter were staring at the dark thing. The harsh whisper came again. "There has to be more than this! Is there a safe?" "We don't have the combination." "What? You... Your wallets, gimme your wallets!" Now the fear was creeping out of his stomach and up into his chest. Hadn't the man seen him? He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want the women to get hurt, but what could he do against a guy with a gun? And he didn't want to agitate the man. He was completely awake now, but remained motionless on the couch with the book in his hands. Just wait...

"OK, get in the back," the man rasped, "now!" The women started to move, and he watched them. They were coming his way. But the man wasn't looking at him. As the three approached the door, he felt the adrenaline surge and took a deep breath. Now was the time to act, before the man got the women alone in the back room.

He put the book down and stood up. The man suddenly looked at him, startled, and jerked the gun in his direction. "Take it easy," he said to the gunman, holding up his open hands, "just take it easy." "Stay back!" the man shouted. "I'm staying right here," he said calmly, "And I'm not going to try anything. You got your money. Just leave the women and you can go, no one's going to stop you." The gun was as shaky as the man's voice, "You--get in here too. All of you!" "I don't think you want to do that. You don't really want to hurt anyone, do you?" His voice reached out to the man. "And you don't have to. Just walk away, and no one will go after you. It's just money, you don't need to hurt anyone..." The women were through the door now, and one of them made a quick movement and stumbled. The gun immediately swung around and the man started towards them. That's when he took a step forward. "Just let the women go..." Then the gun came back--and fired. He felt the impact low in his body, and fell back heavily onto the couch.

But his eyes were still on the man's face. For a moment he held the startled gaze of his attacker, then the man looked down at the gun like it was an unknown source of pain, and the weapon fell to the floor. He caught the confused eyes again. Then the man fled.

He glanced down at the pain in his side. All he could see was red. Then one of the women was next to him, shouting for the other to call 911. "Oh my God, oh my God," she started crying, "you can't die... you saved us... you'll be OK, they're coming..." She was looking into his face now, thanking and pleading for him with her eyes. He smiled painfully. "Don't worry, it's all right. Someone's watching over me. And you, too." She nodded, but sobbed again. "Hey, don't cry," he said, "that was a miracle just now. Didn't you see it?" 

It hurt when he laughed, but it felt good too.