Chapter 5: Tim

Wrapped in a warm blanket, wearing an oversized grey shirt, Connor was sitting at a small wodden dinner table, a plate full of freshly cooked chicken soup. Connor had wanted to say something after they were out of the rain, but up until now, he didn't manage to find the right words to express what he was feeling.

Just when Connor was about to try to put his thoughts into words, Tim looked at him, smiled, and said:

"No need to overthink things, let's get some warm soup into your belly first, then we can talk about things - if you want to anyway."

He smiled once more, before beginning to eat his soup. His hand moved swiftly, even though there was an ever so slight tremor, which Connor identified as a sign of age, nontheless the old man managed to eat without spilling one drop.

After being in a daze for a few seconds, Connor picked up his spoon and began to eat. The soup was freshly made, it had a beautiful golden color, and the chicken as well as the vegetebales inside were soft yet tender.

Connor only realised that he hadn't yet eaten anything only when the first spoon full of soup entered his mouth. It might have been his immense hunger, but to him this food was like a salvation to his soul. Every time he swollowed another spoon full, the comfortable warmth heated up his body from the inside, and the cold, that had hidden deep inside his bones, was slowly pushed out.

For some reason, it reminded him of home. It reminded him of the food that his parents would make every Christmas, and just when he was thinking this, he felt a wet sensation running down his cheeks, he reached up with his hand to identify what it was, only to realise it was his own tears.

The old man noticed when he looked up, and asked if he was alright, and that was the last push Connor needed, he broke out in tears and with a tremor in his voice said:

"Yes I am okay, I.. I don't know what to say. I am so grateful, thank you so much. I really don't know what would've happened, if you hadn't helped me. The last couple of weeks were so hard, and I kept pushing and pushing but things just kept getting worse, this is the first good thing happening, I am so grateful. Oh god, I am sorry for talking so mu-"

The old man chuckled, put down his spoon and replied:

"Don't worry, it's fine. It seems like you have been bottling up things for quite some time and that just means you have to let it out now, so please do, I think you need it. Don't worry about me, I don't mind listening, I think I know how you feel, and how hard life can be. You can't always be strong."

Hearing the old mans words, Connor was moved, and cried even harder, unable to control himself any longer, unable to keep all those worries, all that pain inside any longer, he just told him everything.

He told him about how he got bullied in school, how he never managed to find proper friends, because all the people he did like ended up leaving him, how he was worried about being a bother to his parents and sister, how he worked so hard to get a place at university, how he had been thrown out for something he didnt even do, how his bed broke and the bus didn't arrive, how he cut himself by accident, how the rain just appeared when he least needed it, how he just wants to achieve something great, and how he is searching for a job but the one thing he tried just failed in the worst way possible.

Although part of Connor was trying to stop him from revealing his innermost worries to this person that he never met before, it just felt so good. With ever word he spoke a bit of weight that he had just accepted as normal, was lifted from his shoulders, and once he finished telling him about the most recent events, he felt like he was reborn.

After a long pause, he took a deep breath and said:

"Thank you. I don't know how I can ever repay you for this."

The old man let out a long sigh, and with a happy expression said:

"I know it is not easy to let your own worries out sometime, and I know we don't know each other, but I am proud of you, and I promise you, things will get better."

Then he chuckled, continued

"And in regards to how you can repay me, I actually have an idea. You see, I own a little shop as you might have noticed when we came in here. Now I am quite old, and it is hard to manage the shop just by myself, so I have been thinking about finding a reliable person to hire as my assistant, but unfortunately I gave up on that idea after a while because the people in this area are really not reliable and probably would rather steal from me then actually help me."

His facial expression held nothing but kindess as he was speaking, and his eyes were fixed on Connors.

"And you strike me like a very reliable person, and it seems like you are currently looking for a job. I can't promise you a high pay, but I can offer you a job, if you want to."

At these words Connors eyes widened, and his eyes began to water once more, a million thoughts were racing into his mind, and he was trying to find the right words, and eventually he took a deep breath and replied:

"Yes please. I will work as hard as I can to make it up to you."

"Very good! You can start tomorrow if you like, but for now let's finish the soup, otherwise it will get cold, oh, also, my name is Tim, nice to meet you."

When the old man realised that they hadn't introduced themselves to each other he couldn't help but laugh, and the it was the same for Connor, who promplty replied.

"My name is Connor, it is very very nice to meet you, and yes please, the soup is amazing."

And so the two spend the night chatting and eating the soup, and decided that Connor could start working at the shop starting at 12am the next day. After all was said and done Connor got his wet clothes, thanked Tim once more, and made his way back home.