Jesus at the Java Hut

It seemed like a good idea to take the children swimming at the Marshalltown, Iowa, YMCA, with their cousins before starting a 285-mile drive home to Elmhurst, Illinois. It was hot, steamy and drizzling outdoors but much fun was had indoor at the Y’s play pool, and even the adults used the water slide many times. The kids would surely be exhausted from the activity and spend much of the ride snoozing in the car.

The idea worked so well that, 15 miles into the trip, my head started nodding as my eyes tried to rest themselves. The gray drizzle, the corn-scape and the book on CD that we were listening to were not helping me stay awake. (Cornfield, cornfield, cornfield, soybeans!) I reached for the pack of tic-tacs in my purse and bit my teeth into minty freshness, waking my taste buds momentarily. (Cornfield, cornfield, cornfield, cornfield, cows in a pasture!) I wanted to turn the book off and turn up some driving music but, one child was still awake and following the plot. (Cornfield, small town, cornfield, cornfield, Indian Casino!) My 5 year-old daughter and infant son were napping peacefully. It occurred to me that the napping would cease if Cheap Trick, the Pretenders or Ella Fitzgerald began pumping through the speakers near their tiny heads.

Unfortunately for me, I had chosen the quaint route home, on a US highway instead of a four-lane interstate. This was due to the fact that the bridge over the Mississippi River on I-80 was under construction. I sat through that traffic back up on the way into Iowa, thank you very much, and I wanted to avoid that on the way out. This, too, seemed like a good idea at the time. It seemed less so as the traffic on the sometimes two-lane road caused the miles to become elongated. The close-up view of acre after acre of the pride of the corn industry and its petro-chemical fertilized fields had a dulling effect on my vision and repulsed my sense of smell. My eldest asked, “Mommy, what is that STINK?” and after I answered she asked “Can you turn off the car’s nose?”

Sixty-two miles from Marshalltown on quaint highway later, three kids were sleeping and I needed coffee, pronto. It took that many miles to reach this state of desperation because I am a coffee snob and I did not want to drink “gas station coffee” from any of the Casey’s that I had passed in several small towns. At a minimum, I was looking for coffee from McD’s. I would have been overjoyed to spot a Dunkin’ Donuts, but there were none on this road so far.

Mt. Vernon, Iowa, welcomed me. I knew there must be coffee in this town because there is a college here, Cornell College, that was attended by three of my siblings. A break in the drizzle and the sun shone down upon the Java Hut, which I had just passed. Eureka, I struck coffee gold and turned around!

The Java Hut is just what it sounds like. A booth with driveways on both sides. One side was occupied with a parked car, adults and kids were hanging out and chatting with the occupant of the hut. I maneuvered my car to the vacant side of the hut and looked through bleary eyes at the pleasant-looking middle-aged man seated in the booth.

Holding my debit card in my hand, I asked for a cup of regular coffee with cream. He listed the possible sizes and after I selected the medium, he told me that his card reader was down but, if I didn’t have the money, “Don’t worry about it.” “Hold on, “ I said, “there might be some change at the bottom of my purse.” After scrounging around my handbag, I remembered that I had already pulled the “bottom of the purse” change routine to pay some library fines.

Meanwhile, the Java Hut gentleman asked me, if I really needed the coffee to stay awake, would I like to “cheat and have a shot of espresso thrown in”. As I wasn’t even sure if I could pay for the coffee, I didn’t think it was right to order a shot of espresso so, I laughed and said “no, thanks.” Spying the sleeping 5 year-old, he held up a dum-dum lollipop and asked if it was OK to give her one for later. “Sure,” I said, “but I’ll need two because there’s another sleeping kid who will want one.” “I see three kids back there, take three of them.”, he said. I pointed out that the baby was too young and took the two suckers.

I had found all of four pennies in the purse. He urged me to try the coffee and let me know if it was hot enough. If not, he would brew a fresh pot. All the while, the friends or family that were visiting him on the other side of the hut were popping their heads in to chat. At this point, I noticed the hours posted on the side of the establishment and said, “You’re CLOSED. I’m so sorry for bothering you!” “Don’t worry about it, really.” He looked for a loophole, in order to give me the coffee, and asked me “Are you or your husband military or ex-military?” “Nope.” “Are you a student?” “Not presently” He chuckled and threw his hands up in the air "Really, don’t worry about the money.”

I scoured the glove box and came up with a small change holder. “Wait! How much am I looking for, anyway?”, I asked. “$1.34”. After handing over thirteen dimes and a nickel, I received “a penny for your thoughts” as change. Before I left, he leaned down from his lofty seat in the hut, looked directly into my eyes and said “You stop if you get sleepy, you hear?” “Yes sir,” I replied, “I have precious cargo in the back.” “Well, you are a little young to have all those kids, 26, right? “ (He winked). I laughed “26? Me?” “Just go with it, dear,” he said. I grinned, put the window up, waved, and turned left onto the highway.

The coffee cup warmed my hand and the aroma awoke the nose that I had turned off. The caffeine jolt was sufficient to keep me rolling towards Illinois. We crossed the River and then joined an Interstate for the duration of the trip, which included more cornfields before yielding to exurbia, outlet malls, and at long last, suburbs. I did not yawn again until I exited the highway 4 hours later in my town, long past the children’s bedtime.

I looked down at the empty cup and read a tiny label that had been stuck to the lid, “Friends are God’s way of taking care of us.” While that may be true, sometimes a stranger with a few kind words and a potentially free cup of coffee can provide the care you need to reach the end of your journey.