"Your coffee, sir," a young voice repeated.
Nikolas was startled. "Anna. Where is Anna?" He paused for a moment. "Coffee. Coffee." He turned the word over in his mind and finally realized where he was. "I'm sorry, I must have dozed off. I thought you were closed."
"We were when you arrived, sir. But we're open now."
"How can you know the kind of coffee I like?" Nikolas questioned.
The young man made a face twisting his lips, placing his finger at the corner of his mouth. "You like your coffee sweet, strong, heavy, and black, with plenty of froth at the top."
"That's incredible," Nikolas muttered.
"Knowing people is an important part of my business, sir. And I know my business." The young waiter stood there smugly, his eyes unfazed by Nikolas's reaction. "People who come to this café before we're open and rest on a wet chair, looking at the sea with a slight smile on their faces, usually like their coffee sweet and strong," he added matter-of-factly.
Nikolas carefully studied the young man and saw a boy who barely looked sixteen. His dark brown hair was bleached by long exposure to the sun and sea. It complemented his olivecolored skin. His brown eyes were sharp and observant. He wore short pants that exposed his bony and scuffed knees.
"What is your name?" Nikolas asked.
"I am Levtheris," the boy answered.
"Levtheris, can you tell me where Dr. Vassili Tsipras lives?"
"Yes, I can, sir." replied the boy.
"When you have a moment, I'd like to talk with you again," Nikolas said and returned to his cup of coffee.
As he slowly became more aware of his surroundings, Nikolas heard the café radio playing softly in the background. He recognized Bing Crosby's voice and remembered how much he and Anna had enjoyed listening to his songs together long ago in California. The song was "The Day after Forever." The lyrics were unfamiliar to him, but they struck a chord in his troubled heart.
All through a lifetime
I'll be loving you and then
On the day after forever, I'll just begin again.
***
The brilliant light of the sun shone out orange and red, emerging from below the horizon. For a moment, Nikolas hesitated before climbing the well-worn stone steps, up to the sturdily built house. But when Anna's face came to his mind, his steps quickened until he reached the threshold. With his fist he pounded impatiently on the thickly varnished wooden door. The strong wind whistled as it passed through a leafless fig tree and the naked telephone wires above. After a second series of knocks, someone answered, "Who is it?" with an inquiring voice.