I was half in the bag when I walked into the well-lit café. The soft lights hovered above as my eyes adjusted to the contrast of the darkness outside. I stumbled into a stool at the bar.
“Christ, back again Jim?”
“A whiskey.”
“Excuse me?”
“Goddamn it, I said I want a whiskey!"
“There is no need to be an ass.”
“There’s no need to question me either.”
“You think you’re something else, always walking in here, drunk already…”
She kept talking, but I got up, walked away and found a table in the corner. It was hot, and I wondered why I hadn’t ordered something cooler, though what I really needed was a good night’s sleep, something which had eluded me for years. It was booze that pulled me through the night, and hope during the day, if only a fool’s hope. As the waitress prepared the glass, I unpacked my typewriter from its small, black briefcase and set it up, loading a piece of parchment into the machine. As always, I enjoyed the routine of writing more than the act itself. It had been years since I had actually written a story, and I had no intention of doing so now.
The waitress dropped my whiskey onto the table, and briskly walked away. It always happened like this.
Before I could a take a drink, a tall man approached the table and sat down across from me. Over the parchment I could see his heavily sunken eyes, sharp like ice. His hair was slicked to the side by some kind of thick grease, and he was sharply dressed in a three-piece suit. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, placed it in his mouth, and lit it. After a few puffs, he looked up at me, silently.
“Can I help you, friend?”
“Why is it, Mr. Brown, that you come here to write night after night, but never fill a single page?"
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked. I didn’t have many friends, nor was I in the market for any. I always enjoyed solitude, living in my own world. Most people didn’t like me, and I didn’t like most people.
“Mr. Brown, I asked you why it is you come here to write, night after night, but yet never fill a page once you are here?”
“Well I am not entirely sure that is any of your business, friend.”
“Pity. Well then I will get straight to business and ask you my real question: what is it in life that you truly wish to have?”
“I’m sorry?” I replied. This wasn't exactly an ordinary question. He was making me uncomfortable, and I wasn't nearly as drunk as I had been letting on.
“Let me explain myself Mr. Brown. I have a particular set of, let’s say…resources at my command. Now, Mr. Brown, I am prepared to offer you whatever it is that you most desire in this world, without a single complication or inconvenience to you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I had no idea who this man was or what he was getting at. He was bothering me, and his joke was not funny.
“Mr. Brown. I am fully prepared to give you whatever it is you desire most in this world. Without wording things too plainly, I am a magician of sorts. You see, I can make anything happen that I want to. All it takes is a flick of my magic wand and it will be so. But what I am asking you now is something very specific: I want to know the single thing that you desire most in this entire world. You see, Mr. Brown, for my magic to work, you cannot lie to me. You must be very specific, and be absolutely sure of yourself. I don’t exactly offer this sort of thing to anyone, you see.”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the hell are you talking about? And why the hell should I listen to a goddamn word you are saying?”
“I always expect this kind of reaction, I really do. It is perfectly normal to be skeptical of one’s own emotions, and with an imagination like yours, I’m sure it is quite easy to get carried away. Let me comfort you by proving to you that I am no phony. Let me see…Ah yes! Your good amiga over there. As soon as I am done this sentence, the waitress behind the bar will come over to you, kiss you on the lips, and walk straight back to the bar, where she will continue to clean the same dirty glasses she has been cleaning for the past 2 hours.”
As soon as the man finished talking, the motions began to unfold. The same waitress who had snubbed me only moments earlier walked over to our table, gave me a kiss on the lips, and returned to the bar, where she continued to work. I had been a regular here for years, and knew for a fact that nothing would make her do such a thing. My drunken antics had made sure of that.
“Furthermore, Mr. Brown, you will notice that the page on your typewriter will now contain words, when it previously did not.”
I looked down at the parchment. Surely enough, a single sentence was staring me in the face. It was impossible, and I really didn’t understand what was happening, but two incomprehensible events had just happened right before my eyes. I read the following words on the page:
THE ONE THING I TRULY DESIRE IN LIFE IS
I looked back at the man in the suit.
“Like I said, Mr. Brown, my proposition is simple.”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you asking me these things? There’s so much I don’t understand.”
“I think you’ll come to understand everything with time, Mr. Brown.”
I drank the whiskey. I was in too great of shock to notice the fire burning in my throat.
“I should mention one more thing, Mr. Brown. As I said to you before, you must be very specific with me. Whatever it is you write on that paper must be true, and can only be the single thing you desire most out of life. I will in no way sway or guide your decision, and only you can write down the answer, I assure you of that.”
“I…I don’t understand”
“As I said, Mr. Brown, I think you will understand in due time. In fact, I know you will.”
He gave a sly grin and paused for a moment while I sat silently. “And with that, I am afraid I must leave you. I really do hope everything has been well understood Mr. Brown, and that you choose to consider my generous offer most carefully. Of course, if you shall decline it, I underst-”
“Decline? What do you mean?” I jumped in suddenly.
“-But if you accept, and prove yourself to be right, I promise that you will be well rewarded. Have a good night Mr. Brown.”
“Hey wait a sec – !” Before I could say anything else, he was gone. The seat across from me was vacant, and I was left with my typewriter and an empty glass. I could hear the waitress cleaning the glasses behind the bar, not paying attention to anything that had happened. On the parchment, the sentence was still written out in plain black text:
THE ONE THING I TRULY DESIRE IN LIFE IS
I sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the page. I began to wonder if my drinking really had gotten out of hand. I supposed at this point it didn’t matter. Maybe I was imagining things, and maybe I wasn’t. Either way, the same waitress who had been insulting me for years had just kissed me. I could feel my heart beating strongly in my chest as the dulling of the whiskey was no longer in effect. I gave my head a shake. What the hell had just happened? I rolled the question around my mind a few times without coming up with any kind of reasonable answer. I got up from the table and paced around the café. The waitress watched me do this, but said nothing. After a few minutes, I sat down again.
The words were still sitting on the paper, neat and straight. Once I began to gather my thoughts, I started considering the possibility of the event… what else was I to do? It sure as hell didn’t make any sense, but neither did the alternative. All I could do was take it for what it was. And what exactly was it? It felt some twisted version of truth or dare. Some man had just offered me anything I wanted in the whole wide world for nothing. It was insane is what it was.
And yet the words were written in front of me, as clear as day. I could have anything I wanted, if the desire was true. All I had to do was finish the sentence, and it was mine.
The possibilities of my choice were endless: Could it be love? I had my shot once at love, but blew it, like most other things, through over-ambition. It certainly wasn’t money. I had lots of money, but for all its greatness, it had never bought me any happiness. I didn’t need friends, and if I did, I would have adopted a dog, ridding the world of another lost soul. Youth wasn’t the answer either. I had at least 10 more good years in me, but would give them all away in an instant. I had family for most of my life, but also spent most of it avoiding them. I had been blessed with musical ability since birth, and the other arts had always bored me. Whenever I wanted quiet, I came to this café.
No. I knew the answer. I had known it for years, and had many chances to get it. In a way, it had always been sitting right in front of me. There were many things I didn’t have, and many things I had once wanted, but there was only one thing I desired most of all. Now, out of nowhere, a final chance was given to me to have it. All I had to do was to type a few keystrokes. Many nights I had come to this café to write, yet just as the man said, I had never actually written a single word. Tonight, I only needed to write one.
An hour passed as I sat and stared at the parchment. My purpose was true, my desire honest. I just had to make the choice.
Slowly, I stood up from my chair, and pulled the paper from the typewriter. Staring at the words, I tore the sheet into pieces. Dropping the parchment to the ground, I walked to the bar, and ordered another whiskey.