Ikon

A young man was crossing the parking lot in front of the cafeteria where he was heading. His name was Leif Karlsson. His blond hair and blue eyes hinted at his northern European origin, and his paleness indicated a recent arrival in the South. His gait was brisk and energetic, but he was unaccustomed to the tropical climate, and the walk from the classroom building to the cafeteria soon made him perspire.

He found it almost difficult to breathe in the steamy heat. The air was trembling over the still somewhat tacky tarmac of the newly paved parking lot in front of the cafeteria, which was a half-barrel shaped building made of corrugated, gray painted sheet metal. It was a physical relief to enter the cafeteria, where large ducts in the ceiling gushed welcome cascades of cool, dehumidified air on the guests below.

Entering the cafeteria, Leif drew a deep breath of comforting coolness through his nose, and he detected the unmistakable, faintly unpleasant smell of an inexpensive restaurant, containing the scents of both disinfectant cleaning agents and smoking vegetable oil.

He walked up to the line of customers at the nearest counter, took a tray from a stack and pushed it along the steel rails on the customer side of the counter while he looked at the offerings of hot dishes. He decided to try the franks and beans. As he took a plate with two slices of toast and a piece of butter from the glass shelf, an angry, male voice rose from further up the line. He did not distinguish the actual words, but both he and many others looked to see the man who had spoken.

He was a somewhat overweight, middle age man of average height. Like Leif he was dressed in civilian clothes, but rather ill fitting and in need of pressing. His dark gray pants hung low in the front to accommodate a substantial beer belly, and in spite of the heat of the day, he wore a long sleeve shirt, its hue more off-gray than off-white. His fleshy, large face, which Leif saw only in profile, was presently reddened with anger. Leif could not see much of the person against whom his ire was directed, because the glass shelves full of cold food items above the counters obstructed his view.

The brief outburst had attracted attention not just in the line at the counter, but also among the customers at the tables near it. Leif noticed that it had met general disapproval. The disapproval seemed to reach the level of shock and anger in some of the dark skinned military men who were sitting right behind the angry man. For a moment they stopped eating and looked first at the angry man and then at each other almost in disbelief, before shaking their heads and continuing their meals while making quiet comments among themselves. Leif drew the conclusion that something had been said that was particularly offensive to them. Apparently the angry comment had contained some racial edge. That bothered Leif, giving him a jarring first hand glimpse of the racial tensions of where he was.

The customer line was moving, and soon he came to where the glass shelves ended and he faced the cafeteria worker who was ready to take his order. She was about his own age. The contrast between her all white work clothes and the darkness of her arms, hands and face was striking. Her face, framed by jet black hair, had a very African look, with a short, blunt nose and full lips, but the nose was not overly broad, and the mouth not overly large. Her large, dark eyes had long eye lashes and a shape that was faintly oriental, an impression heightened by high cheekbones. When he first faced her, she still bore a tense and pained look, presumably from having been insulted by the loud customer a few minutes earlier, but as she met Leif’s gaze, it gave way to a quizzical and somewhat impatient expression. She obviously was waiting for his order, which was slow in coming.

Oh, yes, his order! He had forgotten. His mind had been sidetracked by the sight of the young woman, drawn in by the dark eyes that met his, but now he scanned the food offerings behind the counter in panic, afraid to seem stupid. Relieved he saw what he wanted.

“Uh. . . I’ll have the franks and beans.” he said, and it did not come out as suave and confident as he wanted it to. He tried to smile at her, but she had taken her eyes off him and turned to the containers of food. When she placed the plate with his food on the counter in front of him, she did not look up.

“Thank you” Leif said and tried again, stiffly, to smile. The woman gave him a quick glance and nodded without expression, turning to the next customer in line.

Leif took the plate of food, put it on his tray, and pushed it toward the cash register. He was embarrassed over the confused and awkward impression he may have made on the girl behind the counter. She was amazingly, strikingly beautiful, he thought.

In the evening, the incident would not leave his mind. It had turned it into a personal problem, because he had definitely felt attracted to the girl behind the counter. He remembered the hard voice of the angry man, and the glaring hatred with which he looked at the person in front of him. What a boor! He had dared to disrespect, insult and humiliate that beautiful girl. Leif felt a wave of sympathy for her. No, more than sympathy: He wanted so much to protect and defend her.