PART 5: The cane that found its way home
Rex looked down at the cane still in his hand.
It suddenly felt wrong. Like he was holding something sacred he had no right to touch.
Slowly, carefully, he placed it back beside the old man’s chair.
Not dropped. Not thrown.
Placed.
Like returning something borrowed from a church.
The old man didn’t grab it. He just let his fingers rest on the worn wood for a second.
Then he did something no one in that diner expected.
He pushed the second cup of coffee — the one the waitress had quietly set down — across the table toward Rex.
“Sit.”
One word.
Not an order.
An invitation.
Rex glanced at his crew outside the window. They all looked away, giving him space. Some even took a step back from their bikes.
Rex sat.
The leather vest creaked. The booth felt smaller.
The old man took a sip of his coffee like this was any other Tuesday.
May you like
Except it wasn’t.
And both of them knew it.
