Chapter 1: The Encounter

As the old man, carrying a worn leather briefcase and an umbrella, entered the bar, few took notice. He was dressed sharply in a tweed jacket, slacks, and a black tie, looking quite formal compared to the casual crowd in the dimly lit space. Yet, in a bustling city, such diversity in attire was commonplace.

“What can I get you?” the bartender inquired.

“Coffee would be great, with a bit of cream if you have it,” the old man answered.

The bartender grunted in response, mentioning he’d need a few minutes to brew a fresh pot. The old man smiled as he settled onto a bar stool next to a rotund man sipping his drink.

“Excuse me, could I borrow a napkin?” he asked the man beside him.

“Of course,” the man replied, handing over several napkins.

“Look at my briefcase here; I’ve got a stain from a pigeon,” the old man said, moistening a napkin and starting to scrub the spot.

“Damn pigeons, dirty creatures,” the man remarked, downing his drink.

“I think pigeons remind me of people,” the old man continued. “They can be misunderstood and their true nature is often hidden. By the way, I’m Francis, but you can call me Frank.” He extended his hand.

“Bob,” the man replied, shaking Frank’s hand.

“Pigeons often get a bad reputation,” Frank explained. “Did you know they exist on every continent except Antarctica? They’re actually quite clean and strong flyers, capable of doing somersaults in the air just for fun. They mate for life and remain loyal even after raising their young. They’re surprisingly intelligent.”

“Intelligent?” Bob echoed.

“Absolutely. They were among the first birds domesticated by humans, even used by the Coast Guard to locate people lost at sea.”

“How do you know so much about pigeons?” Bob asked, intrigued.

“I’ve always had a fondness for animals and those struggling in life. I grew up in a small town in Perugia, Italy, surrounded by both creatures and people in need, so I try to help when I can,” Frank explained.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Bob said with a laugh. “Bars are often filled with folks down on their luck.”

The bartender placed a fresh cup of coffee before Frank, who took a sip before addressing Bob again. “Ralph Waldo Emerson once said that superficial individuals rely on luck or circumstance, while strong individuals recognize cause and effect.”

“Hmmm. I wonder if Emerson ever faced unemployment or had a spouse leave him demanding alimony. Sometimes life throws you curveballs,” Bob replied as he took another swig of his beer.

“Sounds like you’ve faced some tough times,” Frank observed.

“Got an hour to spare?” Bob chuckled.

Frank smiled and opened his timeworn briefcase, revealing an antique silver pocket watch. He placed it on the bar between them and said, “The next hour is all yours.”

Bob hesitated to share his recent job loss and divorce, but something about Frank’s kindness coaxed him into talking.

“Last month, I got laid off from Walmart. They claimed I was late and not fulfilling my duties. Bills started stacking up, and my wife called me a worthless drunk. She left me, and honestly, I think she was just looking for a reason to go.”

“Why did she consider you a worthless drunk?” Frank inquired.

“Sure, I enjoy hitting the bar now and then, having a drink or two with friends. I may have been late a few times, but that doesn’t define me. My wife was overly judgmental, just like my father used to be.”

“Your father?” Frank asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, my dad struggled with work, drank too much, and took my mom for granted. Yet, there were moments he was great. I remember one time he took me to a comic book store and bought me a special edition Spiderman comic. He wrote on the back, ‘For my boy Bobby, love Dad.’” Bob looked down at his beer, reminiscing.

“Men often lose their way, Bob. Past wounds can cloud good judgment. However, those moments of kindness remind us of the goodness within them, striving to find the light.”

“Yeah, that comic shop day was special. I showed it off to all my friends. Two years later, Dad passed away. He got sick or something.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Frank said sincerely.

“Yeah, the worst part was losing that Spiderman comic. I left it on a park bench while playing basketball, and when I returned, it was gone. It felt like losing the last piece of my dad. Since then, life has been tough.”

Frank glanced at his pocket watch, noting that thirty minutes had passed. He took another sip of his coffee and turned back to Bob.

“Sometimes, a single negative event can drastically alter our life’s trajectory. We often get stuck, unaware that we can change direction whenever we choose if we’re willing to do the opposite,” Frank said.

“Do the opposite?” Bob asked, puzzled.

“Yes, do the opposite of what’s not working. It’s simple yet often overlooked. For instance, we indulge in junk food and neglect exercise, then complain about our weight. The solution? Eat healthily, exercise, and watch the weight disappear.”

“Sure, but some issues aren’t so straightforward,” Bob countered.

“Such as?” Frank prompted.

“How do you stop resenting your wife for leaving? How do you express your anger toward your father for his treatment of your mother and for leaving too soon? What about dealing with a boss who fires you?” Bob slammed back the last of his beer and gestured for another round.

“All these feelings sound like anger, which is understandable. Yet, I still recommend doing the opposite,” Frank advised.

“And what would that entail?” Bob inquired.

“Forgiveness.”

Frank let the word linger in the air. “Forgive your wife for ending your marriage. Forgive your dad for not living up to expectations and for leaving you too soon. Most importantly, forgive yourself.”

“Forgive myself? For what?” Bob asked, meeting Frank’s gentle gaze.

“Forgive yourself for clinging to anger, pain, and blame. For drinking too much. For not meeting expectations at work. Forgive yourself, Bob. It’s the opposite of what you’ve been doing.”

Frank placed his hand on Bob’s shoulder. “If you can forgive yourself, you’ll discover a way out. Back towards the light of life. To the man we both know you can become.”

At that moment, tears flowed freely from Bob, releasing years of pain, regret, and sadness.

After a while, Bob composed himself and said, “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to get emotional. I guess the alcohol is getting to me.”

“No need to apologize, Bob. You were carrying a heavy load. As I said, I have a soft spot for those in tough situations,” Frank reassured him.

“Thank you; I’ve never shared all this with anyone before. I truly appreciate your advice about doing the opposite. It’s time I start making better choices,” Bob declared, standing up to excuse himself to the restroom.

“What did you tell him?” the bartender asked.

“Not much. Sometimes people just need to share their story and realize there’s always a better way forward,” Frank replied, finishing his coffee.

Checking his pocket watch, he saw an hour had passed. He opened his briefcase, placing the pocket watch inside, and pulled out a large envelope.

“Could you do me a favor?” Frank asked the bartender. “Please leave this for Bob when he returns.”

“Absolutely,” the bartender replied. “By the way, are you a priest or a therapist or something?”

“Nope, just someone trying to make the world a bit brighter. I started in a small town called Assisi, and now I strive to be everywhere,” Frank said with a smile, before donning his fedora, grabbing his briefcase and umbrella, and stepping out of the bar, passing a flock of pigeons.

A moment later, Bob returned from the restroom and reclaimed his seat at the bar.

“Here’s something for you,” the bartender said. “The old man with the briefcase asked me to give this to you. Would you like another drink while you check it out?”

“No thanks, I think I’m done with the alcohol,” Bob replied.

He opened the envelope and was taken aback by what slipped out.

Staring in disbelief, he held the special edition Spiderman comic book, feeling a rush of emotions.

As his trembling hands turned the comic over, he saw his father’s handwriting on the back: “For my boy Bobby, love Dad.”

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