“A night out? Anything I want to eat? This is great! Thanks, O.D.!” Alec Brennaman (Mercury) was ecstatic. “We haven’t had the time or money to go to eat out much at all, and when we did, it was always some low rent local place.”
Abe smiled. He had to admit, he was enjoying his five flavors burger and salad. ‘The kids are just warming up like crazy! Even Wesley…Especially Wesley. This is great!”
Antoinette Bailey and Chad Garbereck (Marbles and Marksman) agreed. “Thanks so much! We needed this!” Marksman the oldest of the kids at the table, spoke for all of them.
‘He might just turn out to be the leader. He’s forthright, fair, he thinks things through…’ Abe looked across the table at Chad and gently patted his coat pocket. He had most of the money with him. There was no need to carry so much, but he’d always carried what was most important to him- ever since he was on the street when he was a kid. Except now, he carried his money, but it seemed that the four kids arrayed around the table were becoming ever more important. He couldn’t carry them, but he could just be with them…
“This is great. I’m so happy we could-”
“Excuse us, but what in the hell are you folks?”
Abe looked up at two very drunk Marines and another friend of theirs who was wearing a flannel shirt with small tears and stains, mud encrusted boots and faded ill-fitting jeans. They were clustered around the table. The others dining there seemed to sense something was wrong and they delved ever more intently into their entrees. Some seemed to have seen this before. They were the ones most intent on their meal, Abe noticed.
Abe looked around the table hastily.
No one was “doing” anything, nor exhibiting their powers. That wouldn’t do here. They needed to remain under the radar.
Abe, satisfied that everything appeared normal looked up.
The kids had stopped eating; listening.
“Excuse me, gentlemen? What was that?”
The guy in Flannel asked again. This time with a bit more frustration and belligerence than before: “I said…What the hell are you? Why are you here? We ain’t seen you here before…” He looked at his drunk companions.
“-And, we wanna know what the hell you’re doin’ in our town!”
“What is the problem, Gentlemen?” He forced himself to smile with grace and sincerity. “We don’t want any trouble.”
He gently made his hands hover over the table, telling everyone there to wait; watch; but do nothing.
The Flannel guy weaved a bit.
“Well, lessee…,” he slurred. “We got an old Jew, A fat little Asian fuck, a fucking nigger and little white girl (who might be Arayan) and… a proper Arayan youth…” He gestured to Chad, who had carefully placed his fork on his plate and put his hand under the table.
Wesley stopped eating with an onion ring halfway to his mouth. His jaw dropped and couldn’t believe the hatred that he was feeling from these people.
“What?”, he gulped. He looked at Abe for guidance.
The other two marines bristled with energy but did nothing but intimidate.
“Shut your fucking pie hole you fat little gook fuck!”
Chad moved a hand toward a concealed weapon.
Abe noticed and hoped it was one of the non lethals they’d discussed earlier in the week. He gently waved a hand just off the tabletop to warn Marksman to wait.
Marksman tensed but did nothing else.
“Why are they being so mean, Abe? Wesley is one of us now! He’s our friend!” Antoinette whispered to him.
“I don’t really know…Some people…”
“Find out who they are Kyle!” One of them finally said to the flannel guy.
Kyle stood up straighter, feeling that drunk as he was, he was in charge of the situation.
“Yeah…Who…Are… you?”
Abe smiled his most ingratiating smile, the one he learned when he was eight.
“We are a chess team. We’re having a victory celebration after whomping Bishop High…in chess. I’m the coach.”
“That’s my High school!” Kyle exploded and looked at his companions in dismay.
One of the marines pointed out: “Kyle, you flunked out!”
Kyle turned on the Marine with barely controlled violence.
“-But I went there! It’s my school! They …whomped us!”
The other Marine spoke up.
“Kyle, do you even know how to play chess?”
Kyle looked injured.
“It’s like football…but for wimps and weiners!”
“Yeah!” Agreed the first Marine.
Abe silently counted out the money for the bill and a tip. 15%. Not great service, not fast service, the “ambiance left something to be desired”, but the management couldn’t keep out …assholes…
He put the money on the table.
“Well, Gentlemen, it’s time
for me to take my team home. It’s getting late. Good evening. Come children.
It’s time to go.”
He stood.
Everyone else stood, but Merc, looked down at his burger and onion rings longingly…
“Ohhh, man….”
He followed the others.
“Have a nice evening,
Gentlemen!”
Abe said as he squeezed past them, with the rest of the patrons watching.
Kyle fumed. The two Marines seemed to follow him. He got out of the way, as Abe and the others passed. He was cognizant of the rest of Fridays was watching him. The other two Marines followed suit.
Abe breezed by the hostess.
“Thank you so much for a memorable dining experience! The check, plus tip is covered by the money I’ve left on the table and we won’t need any change…Thank you! Bye!”
They got into the minivan, buckled in and started out in as much of a hurry as possible without burning rubber- not that they actually could, given they were in a minivan.
“Nigger? What? Is this 1956?” exclaimed Alec.
“Well, hell, I’m the fat fucking Asian!”
“Gimme a break!” Abe interjected. “I’ve been hearing this ‘fucking Jew’ shit since I was a kid!” He smiled a bit and let the smile creep into his voice, because they were on a very dark desert road and they couldn’t see-
“-AND, as we all know I’ve heard that shit for a long time, ‘cause… I’m an Old Dude!”
Everyone laughed and said “old Dude” with him and they pulled out onto the road to home.
“But O.D.! I left my rings! Those assholes made me leave my fresh, hot savory onion rings!”
“Wesley, I’m sorry for that. We’ll get you more. The way I see it, the best thing for us to do was to get out ASAP before one of those drunks forced our hand.”
“Yeah…” Chad said grudgingly…”Yeah…”
“Look. Everyone has seen drunk people, but what you may not know is that it seriously affects your judgement. I’m not against drinking, but getting stupid is asking for trouble. You get drunk and you don’t really know where you’ll end up.”
“Yeah… One of my friends stole his folks scotch…” Wesley started. “He drank it all. Then, he barfed on the living room carpet. He was grounded, like, forever!”
Abe laughed with the rest of them. “Yeah… well, being grounded is about the best thing that can happen when you get totally out of control. A lot of things that are a lot worse could happen.”
“I suppose, but-”
Just then, headlights burst into Abe’s rear view mirror about a car length behind them.
“Whathehell?”
More next week
Also, more in my website – Zaslow Crane writer
