Slightly annoyed by the sunshine, the old man donned sunglasses to better study the small cafe down the street. Out of the billions of people in the world, not many would willingly do what he was about to. He reached the doors just when they flipped the sign to “open.”

After ordering coffee, he limped over to an unassuming booth and settled in. The waitress tied up her blonde hair, and he waited.

The bell rang as the nurse entered, dark circles underneath her eyes. He guessed she had just finished a night shift because she practically yawned her order. Deluxe roast beef with a side salad. She must have been a regular since the waitress didn’t bat an eye at the strange “breakfast.” She was unusual, but it wasn’t her. He had to pick the right one.

Then came the suit: pearly white, custom-tailored, and containing a small man with a streak of gray in his hair he could no longer conceal. Flipping open his wallet to pay for the Big Original Breakfast revealed a single photo next to a stack of credit cards. The old man could see a younger version of Mr. Pearly standing in front of Wellington College, where the faculty served more as babysitters than educators. The old man sighed. It definitely wasn’t going to be the suit.

The waitress’s hair began falling loose again as she tried to keep pace with the orders. Donuts for the policeman, OJ and hash browns for the UPS guy, grilled cheese and Coke for the sports fan, and many more—none of them fit. But he waited patiently, eyeing each customer carefully. There was always someone.

She arrived well past dinner hour, her shoulders weighed down with a heavy backpack and a book as thick as a two-slice toaster in her arms. He recognized the university mascot on her faded blue sweater, hiding behind the bus pass hanging around her neck. She fished out a handful of nickels and dimes from the pocket of her worn jeans. A blueberry muffin. Nothing to drink, just water.

The waitress plopped the pastry on the table, giving up any hope of a tip. As she returned to her conversation with the cook, the busboy swooped past with a tub full of dinnerware, scouting for dishes amongst the dwindling diners. The old man picked up his mug and walked to the counter for a refill. Casually, he leaned against the counter, slightly stuck out his leg, and sent the busboy sprawling. The inevitable crash of glass, porcelain, and metal exploded into the air. The waitress let out a slight scream and the cook snickered loudly.

The busboy hastily began clearing up the broken pieces. The waitress ran to grab a broom. Muffin girl leaned over to help. While she was distracted, the old man slipped an envelope partway into the top of her backpack, then quickly limped away.

The mess and confusion soon cleared up, and he safely returned to his table. The girl was about to leave, when she saw the envelope he had expertly placed. She read the outside: “Please take this. For more books—and blueberry muffins.”

When she opened it, a bundle of cash burst from inside. Her eyes widened as she counted the money. She hugged the envelope tightly to her chest, tears filling her eyes as she scanned the room, but no one seemed to notice her. The old man hid his smile behind a last gulp of coffee.

After a moment, she composed herself, gathered her things, and—leaving a large tip for the waitress—she quickly exited the cafe.

The old man pushed aside his mug and reached for the bill. He started when he saw a small envelope. He glanced after the muffin girl disappearing down the street and checked his pockets. Yes, she had her envelope. He looked closer at his. It was addressed to him.

Slowly, he opened it.

“Apologies. I know this isn’t how I normally contact you. I was passing through, and couldn't resist watching you in the field. By the way, I would’ve picked Ms. Blueberry too.

Your next destination is in Iowa City. Details (and money) enclosed. Good luck.

And have fun.”

He chuckled. The usual instructions, just in an unusual way. The old man folded the letter, went outside, and hailed a cab. Tomorrow would bring new places and new people and, for one of them, an unusual delivery. He smiled, and began preparing another envelope.