Cafe Delores

Café Delores

“So here he is,” David smiled as he walked into the small cafe. “The main character from my novel. It's great to meet in you in person, Tucker.”

Tucker stood up as David approached the table.

“Great to meet you too.” Tucker said as he stood up. “Well, great to re-meet you,” Tucker said, extending his arm towards the interior of the cafe. “Would you like to stay here for coffee or go somewhere else?”

“I love this place,” David sat down. “Let’s just stay here.”

“Okay, that is good to hear, because I bought you an espresso,” Tucker said, sliding a white porcelain cup and saucer over the table to David. A thin blue line circled around the edge of the saucer.

“Perfect.”

“So, how did the trip go?” Tucker asked.

“It was great. I only fly first class these days. I love SFO airport too. So good to be home.”

“It must be nice to fly first class.”

“Well, when you reach my age, you will understand,” David said. “You put a much higher value on comfort. Plus, I am now convinced that the flight is part of the journey.”

“Well, I already dislike cramped flights, so maybe I feel older than you think,” Tucker said exhaling. “I just don’t know if I can afford first class, though.” He laughed.

David was quiet for a moment, then sat up straighter. “Where did you end up staying?”

“I rented a small studio in North Beach. It has a kitchen, a nice front room, and it’s even got access to a roof deck with a great view over the city.”

“Okay,” David said smiling.

David aligned his cell phone with the porcelain saucer. It reminded him of the scraps game in his novel, “The East Bonnet”. “You say you can’t afford first class, but you can afford North Beach?”

“Yeah, I got lucky,” Tucker said. “It was a very good price. Timing is everything, right?”

David nodded. “You’re getting the royalties from my agent, right?I mean I did use your actual name in the book, and you are the main character, so I thought it only fitting that I cut you in on the deal.”

“Yeah, I’m getting them, but between my school loans and my rent, I still manage to spend most of it.” Tucker said. “I am actually trying to save some money too.”

“I am still open to give you a bigger percentage. You know, I don’t need the money as much anymore.” David said. “I was pretty well off in terms of money after my two previous books and the proceeds have really filled up my banking account.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Tucker said. “I bet you are doing just fine, but you know I have to make my own way.”

“Yeah, I know”, David exhaled quietly. “Every accomplishment has an undercurrent of disappointment somehow.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes.

“I feel bad for your generation. It is so expensive and the job market is just awful.” David said. He was looking out of the window at the people walking by on Valencia and almost stated his opinion on how the city had changed so much because of the tech boom and Covid, but paused. The neighborhoods looked affordable, but buying a house was nowhere close unless you had some money to give you a little boost. Well, a big boost.

Tucker was staring at a large chalk board above the café bar. “Are you staying at your Guerrero place?”

“Yes, that’s right and the offer is still open if you want to stay there. You know we have the first-floor apartment now also and the view from the deck on the third-floor flat is not terrible, even from the Mission.” David laughed.

“Yeah, but I know your children are here this week. Plus, as you know, my independence is very important to me.”

David made a quiet sound like a tiny laugh.

“North Beach is a great neighborhood, too,” Tucker said, finishing his espresso. “It's a great place to write a screenplay.”

“I suppose it is,” David said as he glanced at the chalkboard menu above the bar. “So, you're thinking we should still use the East Bonnet story, Set it in the 80s with a modern soundtrack?”

“Well, I may be waffling on that a bit on that, but now I am thinking if we have enough solid ‘80s songs, we can mix a few new ones in also. They have to be indie songs from the ‘80s that the general public may not know about. Like Bad Brains, the Replacements, Husker Du. Like introducing them to something new to them, but old.”

“Well, I will let you handle that part. I will go with whatever you decide. I visited the Outer Banks last month, and as you would expect, it has changed a lot. There isn't much left of The Breakers other than two lone houses. The Great Whale is still a souvenir shop, but it has a different name.”

Tucker was still staring at the menu board as he spoke. “I have the perfect song for the scene when Dave drives Jake and I to Nags Head at the beginning of the story,” Tucker said. “It's a band from Nashville.”

“Nashville?”

“Yeah, hear me out. They're from Nashville, but they lean more toward punk rock and hard rock.”Tucker placed his hand on the table, fingers pointing straight down, creating a sort of tent. He lifted his hand and tapped the table with all of his fingers. “The lead singer, is from Lowell, Massachusetts.”

“Ah, now that's interesting.” David flipped his cell phone over, so the screen faced the table. “Jack Kerouac’s hometown.”

“Yep.”

“Auspicious start, as you would say.”

“Well, that's what you said I said in the book. I don’t really talk like that.”

“Ah, there is the Tucker I love,” David laughed out loud, “Yes, that is true.”

David wiped a few drops of coffee from the dark wood tabletop.“ One question, that is a complete tangent, but you caught my attention when you told me on the phone. Is Jake a Swiftie now?”

Tucker smiled. “Oh yes, completely. He is having hyperfocus obsessions at a Tucker Clay level.”

“That is so interesting.”

“Well, he has become insanely political now with the new President in office again.”

“Well, haven’t we all?” David said. “Portsmouth, England, is looking better by the day.”

“Are you going back to England?” Tucker asked, looking up quickly.

“Well, not yet, but I am getting tired of this American experiment. I mean, the UK had their Brexit, so maybe the brief state of insanity is over for us,” David said. “This ultra far right thing seems like America’s Brexit. I just don’t want to go through all the pain, to be honest. I think America will rebound, but it's going to be a bumpy road.”

“Yeah, maybe, but doesn’t hardship create great art?” Tucker said, his head slightly tilted.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” David replied.

“What are you talking about? The East Bonnet was huge,” Tucker said. “I was surprised that I even gained a little notoriety from the book.”

“Well, you are one of the characters.”

“Yeah, but it's still weird,” Tucker said. “I mean, it's a book, not a movie. Who reads anymore?”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before David spoke. “Speaking of Taylor Swift, you've heard the term ' Baskies' right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t pay attention to all that media stuff. You wrote a popular book, and now there are fans and the critics. Haters gonna hate,” Tucker laughed.

“See, that's what I'm saying,” David replied, leaning back a bit and inhaling deeply.

“David,” Tucker said slowly, “it’s a great book. You're always going to be critical of your own work.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect it to be so big in the Young Adult category.”

“Well, David, I was 19 when the story took place,” Tucker replied. “Since I was still a teenager, but I still think it may be more, New Adult.”

“I read that technically the teen years are from 13 to 18,” David said.

“Well, nineteen has a' teen” in the word,” Tucker said. “So, I count it as a teenager.”

“Jake and Roy were older,” David said. “In fact, Jake turns 21 in the book.”

Tucker laughed. “You are funny.”

David smiled.

“I mean, come on, David. It's like you have some guardian angel looking over you.”

David gazed at the long chalkboard above the café bar. Someone had drawn vines around the coffee and breakfast selections that caught his attention. He was intrigued with colorful flowers bloomed from the twisting vines as they traced along the outside edge of chalkboard. He wondered if the barista had drawn them or if an artist friend of the café owner had. Perhaps Bougainvillea? How did that person bring so much life to a chalk drawing?

“David, I think you’re spacing out.”

“Oh, yes. You're right.” David closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

Tucker spoke, “Your mother was bipolar. You moved from another country. You had a successful career as an architect. You have had all those back problems and lost the use of one of your feet. Your mother and father died two months apart. And then a few years later, you rise from the ashes with not one novel, but three and a memoir about modern Bohemia.” Tucker paused. “Damned David, that is quite a feat. Plus, I think the limp and brace make you seem more legitimate. Like a veteran British Sea Dog.”

David smiled looking down at the tabletop. “Yeah, maybe.”

"Anyway, sorry for the tangent,” Tucker said. “Then you write another three books in the next two years in a completely different genre to become famous and buy that Victorian in the Mission District, as well as the house in Elizabeth City.” Tucker paused. “Oh, and stay married throughout the entire process, with two successful children.”

Tucker stopped and stared across the table at David. Tucker’s curly hair rested on his gold rimmed glasses. “So, what does success mean to you, anyway?”

David was thinking that Tucker had no idea how challenging his marriage had gotten for a while.

“Yes, I know,” David said. “Young adult, though?”

“It’s just a category,” Tucker said. “Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn are young adult? And Twain is one of your heroes.”

“Well, come on. I'm not about to compare myself to Twain,” David said. “Plus, I’m English. The Twain thing doesn’t work with an English accent.”

“You are so hard on yourself; it's almost comic. And I thought I was bad,” Tucker said, pushing his seat back. “Another espresso?”

“I am thinking I will have a drip coffee,” David said. “Here, take my card. I'm expensing all of this.”

“Are you sure?” Tucker asked.

“Oh yes, and I also want you to cover whatever costs you're paying to rent the place in North Beach,” David said. “We can expense that too.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to think this is just about work,” Tucker said. “I do think we are friends.”

“Of course we are, Tuck.” David crossed his legs. He felt the left leg brace press into his thigh, and the silver hinges of the brace were apparent when his pant leg rose.

Tuck looked at the brace. “So, that's the new brace, huh?”

“Yeah,” David said.

“It looks like you're walking a lot better with it,” Tucker said.

“Yes, it's definitely better than the carbon fiber one.”

“So, it's foot drop?”

“Yes, I don’t know if it was from the surgery or if I was bound to get it anyway, but here it is,” David said. “Both of my parents had back surgeries, so I imagine it's genetic. It doesn’t hurt anymore, which helps, but the physical therapy exercises I'm doing don’t seem to be working.”

“You’re still going to the gym, right?” Tucker asked. “Honestly, it seems like you've bulked up a bit.”

“I feel like I don't really have a choice with my calf atrophy and balance issues,” David said.

“So, you can still hike, though?”

“Oh yes, I can hike. You can’t really avoid it living here in SF. It took a while to get the right shoes, but I can hike.”

“That's good. We can hike the Dipsea Trail this week, then?” Tucker asked. “Or Mt. Tam?”

“Well, okay,” David replied. “I've always loved the Dipsea hike. We can end up at Stinson Beach. There may be some mudslide damage to the trail, though.”

Tucker ignored David’s comment. “I think it’s one of the best hikes in the country.”

“Agreed.”

“So, a drip coffee?” Tucker said, looking over at the counter.

“Yes, that sounds great,” David said.

David thought he might have stayed up too. He felt he had one Guinness too many. The alcohol was starting to wear him out the next day, so he was intentionally cutting back. He kept thinking about when that Rob character in The East Bonnet held onto the chain-link fence and felt a vibration running through him. Lately, David felt that the more sleep he got and the healthier he lived and the less he drank, the more he thought he could feel the vibration. Or maybe it was like Ohms in electricity. If he drank too much the night before or didn’t sleep well, it interfered with the vibrations within him. The alcohol created a type of biological Ohm. Clean Vibration Living. A new self-help book. David laughed quietly.

Tucker set the two coffees on the table. “So, what made you change the book to a young adult novel?”

David paused, seeming not to understand Tucker, but then he snapped back to the moment. “Well, for one, my favorite editor recommended it. Plus, I wanted it to be accessible to as many people as possible, especially those with parents who have a mental illness,” David said. “I also didn’t want this to be my legacy- not just a party book filled with drinking stories or something like that.”

“You didn’t take out all the parties,” Tucker said.

“True, but just a few. Everyone was young, so of course they partied, but I didn’t want that to define the narrative of creatives. You know, everyone thinks a creative is always on drugs or something. I mean, how could they come up with the ideas they do? It frustrates me, so I... " Decided to declaw the critics, so to speak,” David took a deep breath. “I guess I feel strongly about this subject. I mean, you went through some of this in high school, right?”

“Oh, completely. There was a group of kids who absolutely hated me,” Tucker said. “And I think it had to do with the music I listened to and the books I read. I hated always feeling like I had to apologize or feel weird about my tastes. Now that you mention it, it kind of still bothers me.”

“So maybe it was a good decision to cut back on the partying?” David said.

“Without a doubt.”

“I still have the party version. Mostly drinking and rock and roll. I left out the sex part. I wasn’t about to write about that,” David laughed.

“Yeah, I avoid that too,” Tucker said. “It feels like too much information whenever I start down that path. I always ask myself, is this helping the story? And most of the time, my answer is no.”

“So, what’s the story on this Three Investigators rewrite?” Tucker asked.

“It’s not flowing, and you know I try to ride the story like a wave,” David said. “The surf is just not up on this one yet. I thought, being here in San Francisco, I could walk around at the beach near the Cliff House and find some inspiration for Rocky Beach, where Three Investigators lived in the books. I also discovered that a graphic novel had been written in Germany recently. The books never lost popularity in Germany and are called “Die Drie”, and they add the three question marks at the end. You know that was their logo that they put on their business cards.”

“Yes, I read a few of them,” Tucker said. “You really like those books, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I suppose they remind me of my Golden Youth.” David was turning his cell phone in circles, face down on the coffee table. “And there was the Brit living in America in it: Hitchcock.”