Hot coffee"

I was sitting at a wooden table with a porcelain cup full of the "black" drink. I nervously shifted the spoon from hand to hand. I waited for my turn. I wanted to get this over with, though I wasn't entirely sure if it would help. But I could always try.

"Mr. Ernest Brown!" a shout from the audience snapped me out of my reverie.

"Yes...it...it's me," I stammered.

"God bless you." The calm voice calmed me down a bit.

"For whom is his happiness important? It's important. I came here on another matter," I replied curtly.

"Yes?" The priest said it just as pleasantly as last time. They're all like that. Deep down, they're fed up with you, but they don't show it.

"I'm going to clear my old, dusty conscience. So let's finish these pleasantries. May I begin?" Impatience was growing inside me.

"Please, I'll order myself a coffee and we can begin.

" ***

The day in Africa was terribly hot and humid. The road work progressed at an "acceptable" pace, as that was how it was considered in last week's committee report. In reality, we were slacking off all day. I was assigned a section of Route 71 from Kinshasa to Matadi. There was no room for complaint. I was working with only Spaniards, as that was the assignment. It didn't bother me; the Pablosi—that's what I called them—were wonderful people. However, if anyone had observed us for any length of time, they might have thought a herd of snails had gone for a walk. Hell, even on the May Day weekend!

It was indeed May, but here in Africa, that didn't matter in the slightest.

We compared this continent to a lion. Lazy and lethargic, yet predatory and deadly. However, I felt great in good company, especially during evening suppers, where a sea of ​​alcohol flowed down our throats. At first, I had a bit of headache, but then I got used to it.

"Hey, Englishman! Would you like a sip?" "Pablosi called to me, laughing like a pack of hyenas. How could I refuse them?

We took a break. We were waiting for supplies, which were supposed to arrive, but they were running late like never before.

"Ernest, look at your time machine, how late this Negro is," Fernandez said. He came from poor Galicia, so an invention like a wristwatch was unheard of for him.

"He should have been here two of our shifts ago," I smiled. Fernandez glanced at me, waved, and then headed under a tree to take a nap. At that moment, we heard the rumble of an engine, and we all jumped to our feet. A jeep appeared around the bend. From a distance, it looked like a furious, speeding rhinoceros, about to trample us all. The driver, however, managed to slow down. To our surprise, he wasn't alone. A girl got out of the car too. She looked at me. She looked beautiful.

I immediately compared her eyes to two priceless diamonds. Flowing black hair, dark complexion.

"I'm Ernest, Ernest Brown," I introduced myself and touched her hand. She blushed and smiled.

"Paula. I'm here as your new supervisor." She winked at me and began greeting the other members of our team.

Something inside me stirred. My heart was pounding, so I decided to retire to my quarters. My work was over for the day.

Night fell quickly. The only sounds were the buzzing of insects and a few drunken voices chattering in Spanish. I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about her. The door suddenly opened.

"Can I come in?" I saw her standing there.

"Of course!" I practically jumped up with joy. I lit a candle. The mosquito net covered the window, so I wasn't afraid of a massive attack by some filthy creature. We started talking. It was just an excuse to keep playing. Before I knew it, she was lying on the bed with me, snuggled up against me. I felt like I was in heaven.

"You remind me so much of my beloved. He died two months in the jungle. The guerrillas killed him," she whispered, and then burst into tears. I felt sick to my stomach. A scream of terror escaped my lips...

From that night on, we spent every free moment together. My contract expired in two weeks. We were planning our future together: to hide away somewhere on a golden island in the Caribbean and live a fairytale life there.

I was digging by the roadside when I heard that piercing scream. Each of us dropped everything we had and rushed towards the forest. Paula ran with me, holding my hand and sobbing. We ran into the trees. Fernandez lay on the ground, covered in blood. Above him stood a squad of rebels armed with machine guns. We didn't stand a chance.

"Kill them all! Take them into the trees!" the commander shouted in broken English. The girl looked at me as if the fate of all of us gathered here depended on me. She was right, indeed...

"Stop!" I yelled, reaching into my pocket for a slip of paper. I pulled it out and handed it to the soldier, who immediately handed it back to the commander. As he read, he sneered and laughed loudly.

"So Ernest Brown is the same man who fought for us down there in the valley as a mercenary, right? The same man who so brutally murdered the explorers. Kudos to you, my friend," he extended his hand. Sweat poured down my body. I was shaking, but I shook his thick, black hand. I had no intention of meeting her eyes now. The black man handed me the pistol. I knew what I had to do. My companions lay facedown in a

row. "You'll be fine, my love," I said, and the first shot sent the Spaniard's body tumbling. I shot each one in turn. Fernandez lay last. I fired, but the first bullet didn't kill him. He began reciting a poem whose opening words will forever remain in my memory

: "You are a fallen angel who carries pain on his wings. You are an angel of evil who fears not the dark, for he himself is like a ghost..." Then I couldn't help it, I fired, and fainted.

***

Tears streamed down my cheeks. The priest was also moved by this story. I grabbed a cup of coffee.

"What's wrong?!" I shouted, scalded by the boiling water. I didn't know what had happened; we'd been talking for over an hour—the coffee should have been cold. The priest pondered for a moment.

"You see... your feelings for this girl are still so intense that this coffee is a sign from God Himself. This magical drink speaks to you. Salvation is within your reach. Take the invisible key to the kingdom of heaven." I reached for it and stood up.

"Go with God!" he managed to say, then walked away to the next person he had an appointment with. I heard the beginning of the conversation.

"God bless you. What's your name? Can we begin?

" "Yes... I'm Paula..."

I turned and looked at her. I felt like I was 20 years ago on that road in Africa. Mists rose from the cup, taking the shape of friends offering me the sign of peace. This image will remain in my memory forever.