That angel at Mango Tree, an actual angel she is. Not romantically, but in that Biblical sense.
"Pagi," I said to her. Good morning.
And "pagi," she said to me.
"How is your day so far?"
"Busy!" she says, "Busy! Busy! Busy!"
"Oh, no! Already?" It's not yet 9:00 in the morning.
"Yes," she sighs. "Or just lately." I touch her on the shoulder and tell her it will be all right, to just breath in deep and let it all go. She takes a deep breath and smiles. "How long are you here for?"
"Well, the blond guy leaves in a week, but me and my other friend are here 'til the end of October."
"Oh! Well, lucky you." Her hands are already back to work sorting through bills.
I smile. "Yeah, kinda. We're running out of money though," I say, and I manage a half laugh. "Hence the hot water refill in my coffee," with Nate's old coffee cup raised.
She puts the bills down and before I turn to leave she puts her hand on my shoulder to say, "Listen, if you ever need a coffee just come ask or tell my staff it's free."
"Really? Oh, you don't have to do that."
"It's no problem. Really."
"Well, thank you. Terima Kasih." I mean it. I hope she knows that.
As I turn to walk up the stairs to the top balcony where I like to write, she calls after me from the counter, "Brian! Remember this. Money is like a beard (she motions an Abe Lincoln fully), once it's gone it always come back."
