CHAPTER 1
On a stormy night in his study, he shuffled through papers and notes as he sipped his post-supper coffee as the gas light burned on his desk. There was no thunder or lightening, simply heavy rains that bombarded the rooftop. Upon the second story he heard someone rushing down the stair well. Curiosity struck him and he left his study to see the sudden commotion. Towards the bottom of the stairs he saw her. In her rain coat with her suitcase in one and her traveling purse in the other. A puzzled look overcame his face, she simply took one last look, turned away and exited into the dreary night where a carriage awaited her. Without knowing what to do, he rushed down the stair calling her name, which was drowned out by the rain. By the time he arrived at the bottom of the stairwell at the ajar door, the cabbie had closed the passenger side and they had scurried off into the distance. He walked to the middle of the cobblestone street, quickly becoming drenched in the downpour of rain.
Waiting for the carriage to turn around, he only heard the hooves clapping against the ground slowly disappear into the night, surely, he would never see her again. As he looked down into the puddles that emerged between the stones, he found a reflection of himself blurred by the constant drops. He lifted his head one last time before returning inside and he saw someone under the street lamp it illuminated a fellow with a brusk pace trying to escape the rainfall. Before he knew it the man was passing him by and simply asked, “Sir, surely you do realize you are standing in the rain?”
Somewhat taken aback by the recent events, he simply asked the man if he would like some shelter while waiting for the rain to slow. The man obliged and they entered the 3 story home. He offered a cup of coffee or tea and the strange fellow politely agreed. After some silence they spoke of who they were and exchanged pleasantries. Hours must have passed before either one had realized the time and that the rain had stopped. The fellow had showed gratitude for the hospitality and kindness that was shown to him and begged pardon that he must be back on his way for he had much work to complete that night. The man had showed the fellow to the door and said that he was more than welcome to share a cup of coffee another time to continue their conversation. The fellow gave a gentle smile and said, “Until the next rain I suppose.”
An exchange of glances was all that was shown and they had parted ways of the night. The man quietly went back to his study, packed up his small pipe and lit it. Forgetting of the woman entirely.
CHAPTER 2
On a sunny afternoon the man had sat down in his lounging chair with a packed pipe and an open book in the forte. He struck a match and suddenly there was a knock at the door. Without any appointments unbeknownst to him, he was baffled by the surprise. As he opened the door he saw it was the fellow from fortnight during the rainy evening. He kindly welcomed the gentlemen back into his home, showing him the forte and a place to sit. The man struck anothermatch and smoked his pipe after offering him some tea, but the man simply inquired about the coffee he had previously. The man brought a small pot of coffee and he sipped as the other man smoked.
The fellow looked strangely at the coffee as he set it down. The man asked if everything was alright and in response the fellow said, “It must have been the company and conversation, because your coffee is atrocious.”
They both let out a hearty laughter as they continued sipping and smoking. The conversation was spotty and limited, but they were able to enjoy each others company passing the time. It was intriguing that they mustn’t need so much dialogue to have such a wonderful time. Though it was sunny, it was quite brisk out with the wind going on, slowly turning into fall and eventually winter. The man started up a small fire and picked up his book and began to read. Before he could get into the middle of the page, the fellow quietly asked, “May I ask what you have chosen to read for the afternoon?”
“Why of course. It is the writings of Congfuscious and some excerpts of Lao Tsu.”
“Interesting choice,” the fellow replied. “What caused this selection?”
“Simply for the pursuit of betterment, my friend.”
The conversation opened up, though the fellow he was with seemed quite contempt in keeping quiet. Aside from a question or two, he kept to his own book he was going through.
So the man asked, “And what is your choice of literature?”
“This is the writings of Niel Bohr, as a chemist it is good to know these sorts of things.”
And there sparked an entire knowledgeable conversation based around science, chemistry, and the world as we understand it thus far. They had both read the writings of Charles Darwin which had a lively discussion and debate of theology and religion. A few more cups of coffee and tobacco pipes later the Sun approached the horizon and again they must part ways. The man thanked the fellow for such healthy conversation, he saw his way out and then continued reading about eastern philosophy until the moon was well up illuminating the night. He put out his lamp and retired for the evening.
CHAPTER 3
The man surrounded by his wealth of books, coffee, and pipe, he rarely leaves his home. This particular cold day he suited up in his winter jacket and ventured to the cafe a couple blocks down. He strolled, admiring the people bustling about on a leisurely day. Arriving at the cafe a woman asked him where he would like to sit, as he gazed upon the available seating he saw his new friend, buried in a pile of books. The man thanked the woman and said he had found an acquaintance where he would seat himself. He pulled the chair back and sat down surprising the fellow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Just another morning walk to the cafe for hopefully some better coffee, but instead I feel I have found a better conversation.”
The fellow didn’t smile, but replied, “Ah, you are lucky I am working on a chemical compound to improve the coffee you own.”
The man smiled without rhetoric allowing the victory of nonsense to his companion. The waitress appeared with her notepad as the man was removing his jacket and asked if she could get anything for them. The fellow, clearly occupied and involved in atomically driven world, didn’t respond, but the man said, “A coffee, black, no sugar. And may I ask, may I light my pipe here?”
“Certainly Sir,” she walked away with his order and returned moments with the coffee to find them both silent, infatuated with their own thoughts. Breaking the silence the man queried, “You know we haven’t quite established ourselves to each other yet, have we?”
A little disturbed that the fellow was interrupted from his studious state, he looked up and said, “You are right, we haven’t. I’m Thiago Ramos, and you Sir?”
“The name is Sir Richard the third. It’s a pleasure.”
“Sir Richard?”
“Indeed, my lineage is quite the story, but I’d like to hear of yours first, it promises to be much more interesting due to your ethnic appearance and heritage.”
“Well if you couldn’t tell I am an immigrant from South America. Rio de Janeiro to be exact. I have come to pursue the studies of the greatest in this fine country of the United States of America.”
“That much I can deduce and in the field of chemistry so far from we have spoken of.”
“That much is correct.”
“I must say your english is quite well, from where did you learn?”
“The best institution of my country has to offer.”
“Very well then, they have done an impeccable job.”
With that said they continued to converse amongst the differences each country provides and carried on about other subjects not related to either countries, just speaking of everything and nothing as the day went on.
“Mister Thiago,” Richard continued, “I must return to my studies myself, and I care not to distract you from yours.”
“Fair enough, but you haven’t shared your story.”
“Then another time surely, I insist.”
“Another time then.”