Across the Table | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Across the Table | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jamie Boettcher
04/12/16
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Silence, dead silence.

“How can a restaurant be so quiet will all these customers?” Margo thought to herself as she looked around the small café. She found the answer to her own question – in addition to her mom, nearly everyone else had their heads down looking at a cell phone or some similar device. Besides the wait staff, Margo was the only one with eyes cast outwards rather than downwards.

Margo’s eyes returned to her mom, who was enthusiastically thumbing a text message or maybe a Facebook status update, most likely telling all her “friends” that she’s having a special girls’ breakfast with her daughter. Margo could already picture the 127 “likes” and comments such as “Awwww…how sweet” or “That’s so great how close you are with your daughter.”

Completely not true. Margo and her mom hadn’t been close in a few years now. They had developed different interests – Margo with her photography and writing, Mom with her online book club and DVD-of-the-week yoga workouts. Margo hadn’t been able to tell her mom about things that had started happening recently, and her mom hadn’t noticed the changes in Margo’s personality.

Margo looked at her watch and saw the timer climbing up, currently at four minutes and thirty-two seconds of silence. Margo bet herself at the start that the silence would last until the food came, then they would chat about the smell, appearance, and taste of the food, and then the silence would resume. Maybe her mom would even take a picture of the food and post it with her status update.

As Margo gazed about the room for a second time, the walls started closing in on her. The dizzying feeling of some unseen doom loomed down on her. She gripped the sides of the table, and as her knuckles turned white, the figure across the table began to fall out of focus.

At the sound of the waitress’s voice declaring, “Breakfast is served!”, Margo snapped out of the approaching anxiety attack and inhaled a deep, life-saving breath. Margo forced a smile to her face.

The waitress set the food on the table, watchful eyes on Margo. “Need anything else?”

Margo’s mom finally looked up from the screen, and exclaimed, “Looks delicious! We’re all set, thanks.”

***************************************************************

As the waitress walked away, she started to pray. This young girl needed prayers, of that she was certain. She looked to the ceiling and asked “Is this my ‘work’ today, God? How can I help her? Show me the way.”

The waitress quietly observed their table as she prepared new coffee. After just a few bites of food, the mother’s phone rang, and to the waitress’s dismay, the mother answered it. Maybe it was an emergency? But as she watched the mother’s face during the conversation, it was obviously nothing serious. The daughter went on eating, head down, shoulders slumped. The waitress renewed her prayer again, “God, show me how to help”.

The answer came to her in a scripture verse. She quickly pulled her pocket Bible and a small notepad from her purse. She scribbled a short note, highlighted the verse, and bookmarked the page with the note.

As she walked up to the table to collect the dishes, the waitress gently placed the Bible on the bench next to the girl. The girl’s head was turned away, lost in a distant gaze out the window.

**************************************************************

Watching her mom go off to pay the bill, Margo turned to slide off the bench, and discovered the small book. Opening the book, she found this note: “You may feel like no one sees you or hears you or cares about you, but that’s not true. I care. HE cares. He is waiting for you.” The highlighted sentence jumped out at Margo: “ I love the Lord, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy.” [Psalm 116:1 NIV]

Margo took a big breath and slipped the Bible into the purse slung across her shoulders. As she stood to leave, the air seemed a little easier to breathe. The room appeared just a little bit brighter. She exchanged a small smile with the waitress across the room, pushed open the door, and pulled her purse closer to her side.

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This is a work of fiction.

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