The Rumi Cafe

The bells on top of the door rubbed together in excitement as John MacIntosh entered the ‘The Rumi Cafe’ in the hushed streets of Alberta, Virginia. 

John had been coming here daily for the past 2 months for one reason – because they had crosswords. New crosswords everyday. John loved crosswords, period. 

“It’s wet out there, isn’t it?” Said a rather tired voice. 

John turned back to see a child with fair complexion whose eyes were swollen and clothes were dirty. 

“Hey Matt, looking good, are we.”

“Very funny, I have a new crossword for you” said Matt.

Matt is the only one of all of them who has been here daily since the last 2 weeks. He and John were friends-ish.  

A steaming hot cappuccino and a slice of a bread-butter put on a dusty old blue tray was brought to John’s table by another staff member. 

Then Matt slowly crept towards John and kept a small pink sheet on his table. Crossword.

“This one’s more interesting” whispered Matt.

“It better be, the last ones were a little weird” said John who was confused as to why Matt was whispering.

“Hey kid!, wash this plate for me, will you?” Said a rather young-male-British voice. John turned right to see a strong built, white, smiling guy. He was wearing blue jeans, black t-shirt with the Beatles logo on it and a green apron which said ‘The Rumi Cafe’ in red ink. There was a white badge pinned to the apron which read ‘Chuckinson Doyle. Assistant manager’. 

“Aren’t you going to go?” Asked John.

“Oh, I’ll do that later. You just focus on the crossword.” Said Matt with a smile on his face. Somehow, he didn’t  seem to care and neither did Chuck.

John was wondering why Chuck didn’t look at Matt, at all. This was the weird thing about this place- Matt was always called at to do some work, he would just casually ignore it and no one would care. Matt used to toss the whole place around and no one would care. It was like if Matt disappeared, no one would care.

“These crosswords you give, I don’t see them on any other table. Do you only give them to people like me, who have no other usage with their time?” Said John laughing at what he thought was a good joke.

“It is because of God. The reason why certain people talk to certain people is because God thinks that they can help each other. The reason I talk to you is because God thinks you can help me.” Said Matt with the coldest eyes John had ever seen, worse than his own.

“But we barely talk. You give me the crossword and I solve it. Then we meet the next day.” Said John who was now starting to get scared.

“You will get it. Solve the crossword and you will know. Fulfill your purpose and help me. Help me John, help me.” Screamed Matt who now had a tight grip of John’s hand.

John went blank. His mind was empty and his feet weren’t moving. He took a second to gather everything up in his mind. 

And then he ran. He stopped a block away from his house. 

As soon as he entered through the dark green door, he removed his shoes, microwaved his coffee, found a working pencil and sat down on the wooden coffee table. 

He took out the pink crossword sheet from his pocket and stared at it blankly for 2 minutes. He then took the pencil once again and started solving the crumbled yet intact sheet. 

Time flew by. He kept talking to himself, “2 down is -she gives you life..um..6 letters..mother..alright..5 across…you say this when you are in trouble..argh not this again..h.e..l..p done..okay next.”

Some were weird, for a crossword. For example, you use this pronoun for yourself, single letter meaning I. This is a demonstrative pronoun, singular…meaning..this. But he did not stop. 

Finally, after an hour and a half he finished the crossword. He rechecked what he had written, he looked satisfied. John then got up and went up the in a room to get a bunch of similar pink sheets. All the crosswords he has done since Matt became regular. He then took these out and rushed downstairs. He then went into the kitchen, opened a cupboard and took out a black leather diary. 

He opened the diary and started writing all the words he had solved in those pink sheets. One by one he took the sheets and wrote down the words. Many words were getting repeated like ‘I’ or ‘This’ or ‘Help’. After 10 minutes, he finally wrote down all the words he had found. 

Now for the hard part, what does he do with those words? Matt said that after he finished the crosswords he would know, but he didn’t. 

And then it hit him.

“Words make sentences and sentences make notes. A note. Matt left me a note. That’s how he spoke to me. The crossword. The note would tell me.” He whispered to himself. 

For the next 2 hours, John used the hit-and-trial method to make sentences out of what seemed to be random words. 

“This ‘I’ would come here and um yeah this ‘storeroom’ would probably come here. Uh no, maybe there” he kept mumbling alone. He did not stop, no matter how weird this looked, he finished it. 

Finally, he made sensible sentences out of all the words he had gotten. He then read those written in his handwriting out loudly, so that they could make sense to his mind. He began- 

“Help. They starve me. They hit me everyday. I in storeroom behind coffee shop. They will kill me. This is only way I can communicate. They have taken my  mother. Help me. They will not take long to find out about this. Help me please. MATT. “. 

It took John the next 15 minutes to read this again and then re-read it to make sure he was reading it right. All this was just too much to digest. 

Matt? Kidnaped? Killed?! His mother? Is Chuck doing this?

Finally, it all started making sense. The reason why Matt’s eyes were swollen, the reason he was bruised every day, why he looked pale, why he was regularly coming to the shop, why he was whispering, why he was asking for help. He was the one in trouble. He. Matt. 

John got up, wore a coat, put his dirty shoes back on and stormed outside his house. 

‘What must they be doing to the poor child? Starving? Oh the poor soul. And the mother, how can they !? These sorts of people don’t deserve to roam around free. Jesus protect him.’ Thoughts like these clouded over his mind.

John started running towards the police station. The time in the night didn’t matter, John was well acquainted with the head officer of the station, Kingsley. 

“OH JOHN MY BOY! It has been centuries, where are you?” Said Kingsley as John reached the police station. 

“Robert. Hey. I know. No time for a chat. A boy…he..Robert…the cafe…” said John in intervals. He still hadn’t caught up to his breath. 

After 2 minutes of panting, John stood up and finally said, “Robert we need to go NOW. The child that works at The Rumi Cafe,”

“The one down the street?” Interrupted Robert.

“Yes that one. The child that works there has been kidnapped along with his mother. They are torturing them. We need to get them out of there.” Said John hurriedly.

The room was silent. 

“Are you not listening to me !? Look here I have proof” said John irritated while removing the pink sheets and diary from his pocket.

“There. See. He has been giving me these crosswords since he became regular. 2 weeks. Everyday it has a new sentence. When you put all the sentences together it forms a note. Look, the note.” John explained.

Robert’s hands were trembling like he saw a dead body. He couldn’t speak. None of them did. 

“Um..so..so, h..he ga..gave the..them to you?” Said Robert as fear took over him. 

“YES! He has been giving these to me since the past 2 WEEKS!” Answered John who had now lost his patience. 

“You s..see him? C..can you touch him? 

“YES ROBERT. YES. CAN WE GO NOW?”

Robert then called Dave and whispered something in his ear and pointed towards something.

“ROBERT THE CHILD IS GOING THROUGH GOD KNOWS WHAT. DIDN’T YOU READ THE NOTE? THERE IS A LADY THERE TOO, HIS MOTHER ! I FAIL TO UNDERSTAND THE NEED TO SIT DOWN.”

“John, you’re going to want to see this. And it would be better if you sat down son.”

Dave then came and kept an old dusty file on Robert’s table. It was green in colour. John was more confused and angry then he had ever been.

The file was dated 15th December, 2012. Robert opened the file and started reading.

“Summary of the encounter that took place on 15th December, 2012 in The Rumi Cafe, Alberta, Brunswick, Virginia. A staff member reported that a 11 year old boy and his mother were being held hostage by some gangsters in the back storage of the cafe. The next day police surrounded the cafe to gather more evidence. Someone tipped off the gangsters and they were not there when the police entered. When the police went inside to find the 2 hostages, they found that the 2 were already shot and stabbed to death by the group. The medical report also came back stating that the hostages were already dead at least 5 hours before the police found them. After digging into personal records, it was found that the boy was a 11 year old kid named Matt Nive and the other hostage was Clarissa Nive, 30 years old and mother to the boy.” 

John was now shaking.

After 5 minutes John managed to ask, “s..so..um.uh..th..the..kid..d..he..he’s..dead? The kid…who’s writing to me…is dead?”

“Yes John.”

“But he gave me crosswords..he spoke to me”

Then it hit John. The reason why everyone ignored Matt. The reason why only John could see him. Why only John got the crosswords. The reason why even if Matt made a mess, no one cared. The reason why his eyes were swollen, and he was bruised. The reason, if Matt disappears, no one will care.

“John, the child you are talking about was shot and killed 7 years ago. Matt is dead.”