Boy had we been wrong.
I’d spent two years here in an oppressive and tyrannical environment, with dictatorial managers and bitchy waitresses who hated the two of us because even though we screwed around and had fun together, we still managed to be the two best damn bus boys in the joint. It was a thankless job, and the two of us had hated it within months, but had stayed on until we went off to college, probably because we thought we were sticking it to them somehow. I suppose the joke had been on us, however, because we’d actually done the restaurant a huge favor.
One of the managers even pleaded for us to stay when we had later quit together.
I honestly hadn’t thought much about this place in recent time, even before arriving in Ancient Rome. A decade had elapsed between when I’d quit and when I’d ended up here, and between going to college, spending some time in grad school, and fighting in a bloody and devastating world war, I’d pretty much forgotten everything about my life from those happier years. Kids never really understood just how good life was until they finally grew up, and my friend and I had thought the two of us so damn clever, but we’d grown jaded over our silly, part time jobs, never really appreciating the simplicity of it all.
What I would give to go back to those times again.
“So am I dead?” I asked. “Because if I am, please tell me this isn’t Heaven.”
“Far from it,” Merlin answered.
“Am I hallucinating?
“Not in the slightest.”
“Dreaming?”
“Not quite.”
“Being manipulated?”
“Aren’t you always, Jacob?”
I coughed out a laugh, and raised a hand to encompass the restaurant before me.
“Good God, I spent so much time here in high school,” I said, turning to offer Merlin a small smile, “but not as much as I was supposed to, you know. I was always trying to get out of work whenever I could.”
Merlin nodded. “The youth often shirk their responsibilities. Quite normal, I think.”
I returned the nod appreciatively, turning back to the restaurant. “In retrospect, I think I loved working here. It had helped that my best friend worked here too, but honestly, the managers only rarely put us on the schedule at the same time together. They always tried to keep us apart so that they kept their two best bussers spread out as much as possible. We despised them for it, and did everything we could to get back at them.”
“In what ways?”
I shrugged. “Simple things, really. Only filling the peanut bins half full at the end of the night, loading the bathroom soap dispensers backward, stealing unused silverware off tables and then using them for our end of the night quota. You see, everyone always had to roll thirty sets of silverware before they could go home after their shift: a knife and fork within a cloth napkin. We fucking hated doing it, so we’d just take unused ones off tables as we bussed them, hide them on top of a cabinet in the back, and present them before going home. We were quite clever, you know.”
“Apparently,” Merlin said with a chuckle.
I laughed at the memory, unable to help myself, but when I looked out over the restaurant again, confusion returned. Something was out of place.
“What is it?” Merlin asked.
“It’s just that I didn’t get to see this place so empty very often,” I said. “I rarely worked opening and closing shifts so I always saw this place filled with…”
And then, just like that, there were people everywhere. Patrons and staff both, and not just present, but alive and going about their lives or business like this was actual reality. I looked to the hostess station and…
I recoiled backward, my heart skipping a beat, almost panicking at what I saw.
Standing there was a teenage girl, no more than sixteen or seventeen years old. She had dark hair pulled back into a pair of pig tails, with dark freckles speckling her face. She had light colored skin and round, puffy cheeks. She wasn’t overweight, but her face had always been a bit round, which I’d always thought made her look exceptionally cute.
I risked taking a step toward her, and glanced at her nametag, but I didn’t need to.
“Suzie-Lu?” I asked, looking at the young girl that stood barely five feet tall.
She giggled and looked up at me with bashful eyes. “How did you know my friends call me that?” She asked with a sweet, high pitched voice that brought a grin to my lips. “It just says Susan on my name tag.”
“Uh… just a good guess, I suppose.”
“Yeah, I guess!” She said excitedly. She looked up at me in a way that made me somewhat uncomfortable, but performed her job flawlessly. “So how many are in your party?”
“Umm…”
But Merlin stepped up and answered for me. “Two, miss, but I think we’ll sit at the bar.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, perhaps sadly, but then she perked up. “Well help yourself. Our drink specials are on the wall beneath the TVs.”
“Thank you,” Merlin answered as he turned back to me. “Come, Jacob. I hear the cinnamon butter here is amazing.”
I was still staring at little Suzie-Lu, the girl I’d lost my virginity to sometime around what seemed to be now, and wondered why she’d looked at me like that when she was supposed to be teenage-me’s girlfriend. I didn’t have long to ponder as Merlin grasped my arm with a strong hand that belied his age, and I stumbled after him, Suzie-Lu watching us go. Reluctantly, I tore my eyes off of her to see where I was going, not that I needed eyes to know my way around.
I could walk around this restaurant blindfolded.
I glanced to my right and noticed the cook’s station behind a display case of meats. Those faces were certainly familiar, but I hadn’t interacted with them much, so I couldn’t place their names. They’d been druggies and real losers and they hadn’t thought much better of me either.
We took the first left and then a quick right and found ourselves in the bar section of the restaurant. As we walked, I caught sight of another hostess, a six foot tall stunning blond, who in some ways now reminded me of Agrippina, and I almost looked away out of sheer motor reflex. I forget her name, but she’d been eighteen when I’d started at sixteen, and had been an aspiring model, and damn, she’d had the potential. Hell, even now I thought she had potential. The two of us had flirted occasionally, but I hadn’t been much of a playboy back then – not that I’d ever been much of one – and had often been too nervous to even look at her.
I hadn’t thought myself a particularly desirable catch as a teenager. I was young, had acne, and wasn’t nearly as fit as I was today. In fact, Suzie-Lu had often referred to me as “pleasantly plump.” I had been tall however, like the blond hostess, and I think she’d simply been jealous that I’d fallen for little, cute Suzie-Lu, instead of a “Victoria’s Secret Angel to be,” as she’d certainly seemed.
I’d fallen out of touch with the blond after I’d quit, much like everybody from this restaurant, and had no idea what she had been up to prior to my arrival in Rome, but I’d never seen her on any of the Victoria’s Secret catwalk shows I’d always tried to catch back home on TV. I always looked out for her, just in case, hoping to never see her because I would have killed myself for missing the chance to date someone who would later become a Victoria’s Secret Angel.
So as Merlin and I walked toward the bar, I kept my eyes off of her, but surreptitiously sneaked a glance only to find her already looking at me as well. I smiled awkwardly and she winked back. Shyness set in again, and I quickly turned away.
I was saved by the bar.
I took a seat atop a tall stool and leaned my elbows upon the wooden bar, burying my face into my hands as I tried to think of a rational explanation for all of this. It was all too familiar, but this shit was impossible to believe.
I looked to Merlin accusingly, who stood by an empty stool. “It was you.”
He smiled smugly at me. “It was I, what?”
“Oh, fuck you,” I said. “I k
now you already know. I know it was you who sent Boudicca the vision to help me, and it was you who sent that vision of Agrippina a few days ago.”
He shrugged. “Guilty. I wanted to prepare you as well as I could.”
“And the Druids back on Angle…”
“Friends of mine,” Merlin said quickly as he jumped in place impatiently, glancing over his shoulders frantically. “Very nice people, but just people. I asked them a few years ago to send you looking for me when you arrived.
“But how could you even…”
Merlin interrupted me, asking, “Where’s the bathroom, Jacob?”
I pointed immediately over his shoulder and toward a back corner of the restaurant.
“Thanks!” He said, and took off.
I looked at him with wide eyes. “Wait you can’t just leave me here! Where the hell are you going?”
He paused to look at me but pointed in the other direction. “Little boy’s room. Let’s hope your friend put the soap in the right way this time.”
I looked around the restaurant, hoping to see him. “He’s here??”
“Try to calm down, Jacob. Relax. Order yourself a drink.”
He rushed off toward the bathroom, looking completely out of place in his disproportionately large red robes and pointy hat. I stared at him, still unable to understand any of this. Who was this guy? Really? Was he the elder sage character in the “hero’s quest” story arc, the one put in the story for no other reason than to provide integral plot details and exposition about something too confusing for the writer to explain naturally?
What a lame plot device.
Or was he really just the Druid I was looking for all along?
I was never going to get away with this when…
“What can I get you, handsome?”
Like everything else in this restaurant, the voice was very familiar. Slowly, I lowered my hands and turned to the bartender, but when I saw her, my jaw nearly hit the floor.
“Foxtrot Alpha…” I whispered under my breath, struggling to say even that.
While the Victoria’s Secret Angel may have been the hottest girl at the restaurant, Foxtrot Alpha was easily the most desirable. Probably in her late twenties when my friend and I started working here, she had been gorgeous, with dark, curly brown hair and the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen, along with the largest pair of breasts our teenage eyes had ever seen as well.
My friend and I had worked out a system of referring to all the hotties that worked here with the code name “foxtrot” and then designated them in order from hottest to least hot using the Greek alphabet. It was a thing only the mind of a sixteen year old boy could spawn, but we’d been bored, pretentious, and a bit chauvinistic, so what else were we going to do? I wasn’t even sure I’d known Foxtrot Alpha’s name back when I’d worked here, but it didn’t matter, because then and forever, she would always be Foxtrot Alpha to me.
I looked into her dark, sultry eyes but couldn’t help but glance down at her purposefully low cut shirt, confirming that her breasts were just as voluptuous as I’d always remembered. When I glanced back up, she didn’t seem displeased that I’d just checked her out, just impatient that I was wasting her time.
“Let’s just keep those eyes up here,” she said, leveling her own eyes at me.
I continued to stare, managing only to whisper again, “Foxtrot Alpha…”
She shook her head, confused. “I’m not familiar with that drink. What’s in it?”
“It… you…” Finally, I shook my head and tried to focus, which wasn’t nearly as easy as it should have been. All of this really was just too much. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I haven’t been here in a very long time, so coming back has been kind of surreal. I used to work here actually.”
“Really?” She asked skeptically. “Are you sure? I’ve worked here since the place opened a few years back and I’m pretty sure I’d recognize a good looking guy like you.”
“I…” but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Deciding to go with another line of thought, I pulled myself up and leaned heavily on my arms that rested on the bar. “Look, how about a Long Island Iced Tea, but could you do me a favor and put triple of everything in there?”
“Triple?” She said in surprise. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to do that…”
“I swear I’m not a crazy drunk or anything,” I pleaded. “It’s just been a rough few months and I could really, really, use a drink.”
She looked deeply into my eyes in a way she’d never done when I was a kid.
“Well,” she said, “you seem harmless enough… and I’m sure you’re a good tipper. Am I right?”
She asked her last question in a way that suggested there was only one answer.
“Right,” I said with a smile.
She smacked the bar excitedly and got to work.
I sat back on my stool, my smile still in place, and drank in the moment, ignoring how much I hated the country music blaring from the speakers in the background. Based on the song that was playing right now, I knew immediately what the next two would be, starting with The Devil went Down to Georgia. They played on a loop, and it had nearly driven me insane back in the day, but now I found it somehow relaxing. I glanced at the TV and saw football was on, and I grew even happier.
That drink couldn’t come soon enough.
A moment later I heard a toilet flush and I glanced at the bathroom. An elderly man with a short, neat white beard, wearing obnoxiously short cargo shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and knee high white socks came sauntering from the bathroom like a man proud of his latest achievement in there, but it wasn’t Merlin so I turned back to the TV. Seconds later, I was joined at the bar by someone, which seemed odd since it was only a quarter full and most patrons sat on their own.
I turned and saw the old man who’d emerged from the bathroom moments ago. I analyzed him, looking at him from head to toe. He looked every bit the tourist, complete with everything from his casual summer apparel to the fanny pack he wore around his waist. He looked nothing like the old wizard who’d indicated he’d needed to use the bathroom a few minutes ago.
“Merlin?” I asked, barely believing my own guess.
“What?” He asked back, but not because he’d misheard me.
I sighed and turned back to the TV. “Feel better?”
The old man who looked like pretty much anyone’s goofy grandfather simply nodded. “I do actually, thanks for asking.”
“Soap dispense all right?”
“You know what?” He asked, turning back to the bathroom. “It did. Perhaps your friend isn’t working tonight after all.”
“What day is it?”
“What day do you want it to be?”
“Monday.”
“Then Monday it is.”
“Then he’s not working today.”
“Well that’s a relief,” Merlin said thankfully. “I may have splashed myself a little.”
I dropped my head and shook it. “Let’s drop the shit here, Merlin, or whoever-the-fuck-you-are. I’ve bought into this little fantasy of yours long enough. I don’t have time for this. I want answers. Now.”
Before answering, he removed his glasses and wiped them with the edge of his shirt.
“This isn’t my fantasy, Jacob,” he answered. “It’s yours.”
“Yeah I got that,” I said, glancing back to the hostess station and noticing little Suzie-Lu and Victoria’s Secret talking to each other and giggling in my direction. I smiled, finding myself growing more confident, and waved, but they spun away in embarrassment, but then their giggles continued. I looked back at Merlin. “That said, I’ve got to admit that I’m enjoying this quite a bit. Quite. A. Bit.”
“I thought you would,” Merlin remarked, “but we’ve only just gotten started.”
“What do you mea…” but I was interrupted by Foxtrot Alpha placing my drink before me.
“There you go, handsome,” she said with a wink. “Try not to drink it too qu
ickly.”
I smiled thankfully and lifted the large glass off the coaster, placed the straw in my mouth, and drank deeply. My mouth was awash with flavor, everything from the tea to the sheer quantity of alcohol that clearly made up the majority of the drink. I pulled away from the straw and coughed violently as the alcohol burned its way down.
I caught Foxtrot Alpha’s eye on the other side of the bar as she entered another drink order into the computer.
“I told you to go slow,” she said with a wry smile.
I looked back down at the drink and gave it a wide eyed and impressed look.
“Wow!” I exclaimed. “Now that’s a drink!”
“I’m glad you enjoy it, Jacob,” Merlin commented.
I ignored him and took another long pull, ready for the alcohol this time, and felt the burn go down far more easily. I sat back contentedly, and then looked over at Merlin who leaned atop the bar from his seated position, looking back at me over his shoulder.
“You don’t understand, Merlin,” I exclaimed. “I haven’t had anything even remotely like this in half a decade! All I’ve had to drink around here is this nasty wine the Romans have! I’d almost forgotten what something like this could taste like!”
“Oh, I understand, Jacob. Believe me.”
I ignored him and leaned in for another gulp, and had just about drained half the drink when I noticed something beneath it. Curious, I lifted the large mug off the coaster and peered at it. Written there was a phone number, followed by the name: Tiffany. I glanced up and caught the lovely bartender’s eyes, and she answered my unspoken question by lifting her hand to her head in the ubiquitous “call me” gesture.
I laughed and turned back to Merlin. “Well, now I know I’m dreaming.”
“Bartenders don’t usually give out their numbers, do they?” He answered for me.
“Not usually,” I answered. “Believe me. At least not on an asshole’s first visit.”
“Maybe she recognizes you in some way,” Merlin suggested. “Sees something in you that she appreciates or likes. Correct me if I’m wrong, but despite those roaming eyes you’ve always had, didn’t you always go out of your way to help her when she needed it?”
Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion Page 38