His Conundrums

Chapter 1

The Bombing Case at Greenville Street

Every day we choose to live either on a routine or out of a habit. Sunday morning, where the busy streets of a small town called Hallray were endless, a man in his late 20's came across Greenville Street. There's a small coffee shop where the owner was nearly on his retirement.

"Good morning Mr. Lauve," he greeted as he opened the door.

The bell above, which looks old as its owner, made a sound enough for him to notice a customer.

"Good morning, stranger." The owner replied.

"I have a name, mister, and I am your customer," he said as he sat down to a chair in his liking.

"I know, but still you're a stranger," the old man said and chuckled.

"You just happen to forget my name again." He rolled his eyes.

"Is it something worth to be remembered?" Mr. Lauve knows how to joke around.

The aroma of espresso filled the entire shop as the old man poured the freshly brewed coffee on a mug. He knows what this stranger wants. He's a regular in his shop and the only man who's a regular aside from a strange man who drinks coffee in the afternoon.

"You're coffee still tastes the best for me, Mr.Lauve."

"Well, it tastes like an old man living all his life in a war."

"How was the war for a thirteen-year-old boy before?"

"Traumatic as they said, but the war became part of who we are, the Notchers."

He likes to hear an old man's story even if he heard it every time he went there, great for an old man who has a memory issue, to have a listener who never gets tired to hear his stories.

"I think I told you this story before, didn't I?" Now he's being played by his memory.

"You did? Never heard of it. Maybe you did tell it to someone else." And this young man knows how to play with it. He smiled.

The old man shrugged his shoulder. "Maybe."

"Thank you, Mr. Lauve. I'll stop by next time. I have to go." He excused himself.

"You're going already?" the old man asked.

"Time for work," he said.

The old man nods his head.

"It's Sunday, isn't it?" Mr. Lauve asked himself and laughed.

-0-0-0-

"Your condition is good compared to the last time we checked. Your wound seems fine. Have you taken your medicines and vitamins?"

His doctor verified his condition, but he knows there's something wrong with him. He couldn't fall asleep since he had a car accident. It was traumatic as it's been described in the news, and he had a hard time coping with what had happened.

"Mr. Welsch, I know it was... hard for you, and you're grieving, but please help yourself. No one can heal your emotional wounds except yourself. You have to move on... slowly. It's been a month."

The incident's fragment keeps playing on his mind, it was vague, but it was clearly tragic. The terror he's been through the night. They were so happy before. He had everything, family, health, and wealth, but now, he lost everything aside from money, money which cannot bring back the things that can't be bought.

He stood up from his bed. It's a quarter to 4 pm, passed 10 minutes from his medicine. He walked through his kitchen to fetch a glass of water and took his medicine. He grabbed his jacket and left his apartment. He went through streets and corners before he arrived at his afternoon destination.

A week after the accident, he found himself walking on the street wearing his hospital gown. He never knew why he did that. He never even had a single clue why he's in the hospital in the first place. It was when he's out of nowhere he found an empty place, that coffee shop.

"You're here, time for an afternoon coffee?" It was Mr. Lauve's coffee shop. He didn't respond. He never responds.

"You are as strange as ever," the old man muttered.

He likes to look from the coffee shop's windowpane. There he can see the busy streets of the town where people are trying to go home, without knowing what will happen on their way.

"They're clueless... just like us that time," he whispered.

"What are you talking about, young man?" He didn't seem to notice when the old man was beside him, handed him his coffee.

He saw a guy in a black jacket wearing a gray bonnet in his rugged pants, looking weird across the street. He never saw this guy before. Maybe a tourist, a guy from a neighboring city, or just someone who happened to pass by this street for the first time. Later on, the guy becomes so tireless and felt uneasy. He had a bad feeling, never been so bad aside from his car accident. The weird-looking guy hurriedly went out of his sight. He never bothered to look where he went, and after a minute, a huge explosion banged his ears. The glass from the coffee shop shattered, and he saw the old man lying on the floor. It was just a quick turn, but he felt dizzy. Little did he know, his consciousness escaped from reality.