He paused for a second and added, “But that old man out there… maybe we could invite him to come in and warm up?”

"W

arm food for cold days!” read the orange plastic sign on the door of the coffee shop. Tomer prepared steaming cappuccinos for two bochurim, put their order of cheese bourekas in the oven to warm up, and went to see how his new worker was getting along in the kitchen.

The worker looked up with a troubled expression.

“What’s the matter?” Tomer asked. “Is there a problem?”

“No, everything’s okay here,” the worker said, not too heartily. He paused for a second and added, “But that old man out there… maybe we could invite him to come in and warm up?”

“Hmm…” Tomer glanced out to the street. An elderly fellow was sitting on the bench outside. Next to him was a grayish baby carriage piled high with ratty-looking bundles. He must be homeless. To let someone like that in could put off customers. But the poor old guy….

Tomer ruminated for a moment. “Bring him into the kitchen,” he decided. “And when you’re done grating the cheese, cut up some more potatoes for fries, and slice onions for soup. That batch of onion soup we made in the morning is gonna be finished soon, people really like it in this weather.”

Lulu sat in the relative shelter of the pillared area of Davidka Square, huddling in his shabby coat. He’d never felt so cold before. Not in London when he was still young, not in California, and not here in Jerusalem. Was it old age creeping up on him, or was the world getting colder? The greenhouse effect, maybe, or the hole in the ozone layer he’d read about long ago? No, the hole in the ozone had nothing to do with global warming, it only caused greenhouse gases to pile up… or was it the other way around? This wasn’t making sense. Who could think straight in this cold?

“Lulu!” someone called from behind him. “You want to come in with me to the coffee shop? It’s nice and warm in the kitchen.”

Lulu turned around in surprise. “Bugi! How’re you doing? So that’s the place you were telling me about, that was looking for some extra help?”

“Yeah, it’s right here,” said Bugi. “Are you coming? ’Cuz I have a lot of work to do.”

Lulu followed Bugi into the shop. Bugi found him a dirty plastic stool to sit on, and Lulu sank his frozen bones onto it. As his confused thoughts slowly grew clearer, the two friends passed several minutes in silence.

Bugi sliced onions into rings and dumped them into the huge steamer. Then he put the peeled potatoes through the slicer, cutting them into long pieces. He finished prepping the fries and began washing the dishes. “He called me a pampered prince,” he said suddenly, catching himself unawares.

“Who?”

Bugi was about to say, “Your rich nephew,” but caught himself in time to say, “Some friend of Yanky Kleiner’s” instead. He didn’t want Lulu to start raving again, especially here at work.