“The stoplights are all refurbished from a bunch of them that came from St. Louis, Missouri. They were used there up until about 1977 when they were replaced by the newer technology. Some guy found them piled up in the old city maintenance yard and sold them for scrap to a builder outside of Montreal. We heard about them and the godfather contacted the guy and bought a bunch of them up from him. That was oh…almost seven years ago.”
A black Buick drove by driven by an older white haired woman who honked and then waved at Imran.
“That was Ms. Kapplan. She runs the Wilfrid schools. Was a teacher for thirty years back in Salem, Oregon before she came up here to get away from all the New United Nations mandates. Did you have a school in Dominatus, Mac?”
Mac was gazing around at all of the Main Street activity with a hint of a smile, his face reflecting how much the current scenery was pulling him back to another time in his life so many years ago.
“No, we didn’t have too many kids in Dominatus. Nothing like…like this.”
Imran was making his way across the street as the others in the group followed close behind. The parking in front of Mel’s Diner was nearly full, with many more vintage American cars lined up outside. Imran nodded his head in the direction of a particularly pristine, candy apple red, 1959 Ford Thunderbird.
“Good – the godfather is here already. Let’s go inside.”
The unmistakable scent of burgers and fries enveloped all of them as Imran opened the clear glass door of Mel’s Diner, the tinkling of a small hanging bell that hung from the top of the door frame announcing their arrival.
A short blonde woman who appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, dressed in a pink blouse emblazoned with “Mel’s Diner” across the back, greeted the group warmly as they walked in.
“Well hello there, Imran! Glad to see you again! The godfather told me to be expecting you today. And these must be your friends everyone was talking about this morning. We heard you had a bit of trouble last night on your way here. Took care of too! Well good for you! My name is Brenda and I’ll be your server today!”
When Brenda got a look at Bear towering above the rest, her eyes flew open and she walked up next to him and placed a hand on his left arm.
“Well my goodness aren’t you just about the biggest thing I’ve seen walk in here! Say, have we met before? You sure look familiar!”
Bear looked down at Brenda, his familiar scowl communicating to her he would rather just get on with sitting down and having something to eat rather than stand and talk to her. Brenda proved more than willing to get a response from the big man though.
“C’mon now – what part of the country did you come from? You a southern boy?”
Bear broke down and gave Brenda a one-word response.
“Texas.”
“You don’t say – I’m from Texas! Now where have I seen you before? My goodness don’t you look familiar. I just can’t quite figure out why though!”
Imran, likely sensing Bear’s smoldering annoyance, intervened to refocus Brenda’s attention.
“Uh, the godfather is expecting us.”
Realizing she had been making the rest of the group stand and wait as she questioned Bear, Brenda’s face grew red and she began to apologize profusely as she turned to show them their seats.
“Oh, I am so sorry about that. Just lost my mind there trying to figure out where I knew your friend from. Follow me now, Imran, the godfather is at his regular table right back here.”
Mel’s Diner echoed with the sounds of conversations, food being prepared, and happy customers. It appeared to be filled to capacity. Red booths lined the window areas, while stools ran the length of the long bar that extended from one end of the former train car to the other. Behind that bar a small window looked into the kitchen area where a flurry of activity could be seen as all of the orders were being prepared.
At the opposite end from the entrance was the last booth, and in that booth sat a medium build, older man with dark, silver streaked hair sipping from a cup of coffee. He wore a simple, dark blue short sleeved cotton shirt, and Levis blue jeans. The hair was combed back from his forehead, and glistened slightly with pomade. His olive skin was relatively smooth except around his eyes, which were kept behind thick, dark framed glasses. The skin was clean shaven except for a thin, neatly trimmed grey mustache. Mac noted on the third finger of the godfather’s right hand was a gold ring housing a large green emerald.
Imran stood next to the man in the booth and bowed slightly, extending his left hand toward the others in the group.
“Godfather – these are the ones I told you about. The ones from Alaska.”
The godfather looked up from his coffee cup and looked at Imran and then over to Mac, Reese, Dublin, Cooper, and Bear.
“Please, everyone, have a seat. Brenda, two more seats for the end of the table here. Thank you, darling.”
The man’s voice was low, almost a whisper - the voice of a longtime smoker. It was not an unpleasant voice, and had the hint of someone confident that what they said would be taken seriously – always.
“Please, before we discuss business, let me treat each of you to a Wilfrid burger and fries. You must be hungry. Gonna love it. Top notch all the way. Brenda, can you take care of that, please?”
Brenda moved with far more speed back to the kitchen than when she had first welcomed them into the diner.
Taking a slow sip from his coffee, the godfather peeked across the table at Reese and stared at him for several seconds.
“You’re the radio guy, right? Did the program from Dominatus? When the drones were attacking? We all listened to your talk. Great stuff. Really…what’s the word? Inspirational!”
Reese nodded, fascinated by the intensity of the older man’s eyes.
“Yes, that was me. The others here, Mac, Bear, and Dublin, they were there as well. They lived there in Dominatus. I was just…just visiting.”
The godfather put his coffee down and pointed to Mac, Bear and Dublin, and then lastly, Cooper Wyse.
“So if those three were with you at Dominatus, who’s this?”
Imran began to remind the godfather of who Cooper was, but a quick look from the founder of Fort Wilfrid warned Imran he was to remain quiet.
Reese continued with his own explanation.
“This is Cooper Wyse. He’s an associate of Imran’s. He helped to get us here to Wilfrid.”
The godfather’s dark eyes went from Reese to Cooper, where they remained as he addressed the rancher.
“Ah, yes, the Irish cowboy, right? From Juneau. Loves horses, hay, open fields, all that shit. We’ve done a fair amount of business, haven’t we, Cooper? You and Imran, and myself. Don’t recall meeting you in person though, and yet, Imran has told me you’ve been to Wilfrid before, is that right?”
Cooper nodded but said nothing.
“So why would you travel all the way here and not want to meet me? Ain’t I…interesting enough for you?”
Cooper’s eyes met the godfather’s stare, remaining there while he responded.
“Didn’t know I was required to pay tribute…sir. I was just stopping to rest up before heading back home again. Haven’t been back for a while since then.”
The godfather’s head lowered slightly as he continued to stare at Cooper Wyse.
“Did you find Wilfrid hospitable enough while you rested up?”
Cooper gave a small smile and shrugged.
“Sure. Interesting place you have here.”
The godfather’s eyes flashed momentarily as he leaned forward in the booth toward Cooper Wyse.
“Interesting? What’s that supposed to mean Mr. Wyse? Interesting - I find that to be a rather…interesting choice of word.”
Cooper clasped both of his hands in front of him and placed them on the table.
“Means what it says. Interesting. Different. Like a living, breathing, museum of sorts. I’m a man who can appreciate that kind of thing. Some folks have
described me with similar words. From a different time. Born too late…”
The godfather took another sip of his coffee as his eyes looked over at Mac.
“And you – you’re the one who fought that special operations officer up there in Dominatus? Kicked the shit out of him? I was also told you shot dead five bandits last night all by yourself. Is that right? You’re even older than me!”
Mac took a slow, measured breath.
“Sounds about right.”
“And do you like it here, Mr. Walker?”
Mac leaned back in the booth and looked through the window to the retro-world outside.
“Yeah, I do. A lot. Feels like, feels like home. How home used to feel. Like America before it all went to shit.”
The godfather smiled for the first time since the meeting had begun, though that smile quickly disappeared.
“Thank you, Mr. Walker. I appreciate the compliment. Nice to know somebody who appreciates giving a kind word from time to time. And thank you for taking out those Muslim animals last night. I hate those assholes. Absolutely hate them with every part of me. Call me racist but I do. Got no use for them, none at all. Hate the radical jihadist shits who have torn apart the world, and I hate all of the self proclaimed moderates who sat silently and let them do it. Wilfrid is open to just about anyone who wants to visit, do business, or even call this place their home – but not them. Not ever. Not as long as I live and breathe, there will be no Muslims in Wilfrid.”
“Oh my god! You were in the Cowboys! You played in the NFL! That’s where I’ve seen you!”
Brenda had returned with the food, and was staring down at Bear, clearly awe struck to be serving a former member of the Dallas Cowboys. Bear looked up uncomfortably as he reached for one of the plates.
“Yeah, I did. A long time ago.”
Brenda continued to place the plates of hamburgers and fries in front of the others but never stopped looking at Bear as she did so.
“My whole family just loved watching the Cowboys every Sunday. My goodness, I can’t believe I have you sitting here right in front me! What a strange thing life can be! Now I hope you all are going to the godfather’s tonight. Imran, you gonna show these nice people a good time? How we let out hair down and have some fun?”
The godfather looked up at Brenda and smiled.
“Thank you Brenda. You can go now.”
Brenda looked like she wanted to continue staring at Bear, but glanced down at the godfather and walked away, though she did manage to look back a few times as she did so.
The godfather stood up while motioning for everyone else to remain seated.
“Please, stay. Finish your lunch, my treat. We’ll talk again tonight. In the meantime, relax, and enjoy the hospitality of Wilfrid. Imran, Brenda is right. I want you to bring everyone by my place tonight at around, say, eight o’clock. Ok?”
Imran nodded.
“Good – see you all then.”
The godfather walked toward the diner’s exit, stopping to shake hands with people as he did so. Right before he left to go outside, he hugged a tall, red haired woman and pointed back toward the group. As soon as the godfather left the diner, the woman immediately made her way toward Imran and the others.
“Hello, Imran. I was told to make sure everyone had the very best meal possible today. Everyone – my name is Mel. This is my diner. Welcome to Wilfrid. Could I interest any of you in one of my home made pies? Apple, Cherry, Rhubarb? I could put a little scoop of vanilla on the side if you like.
Bear raised his hand.
“Yeah – sounds good.”
Mel looked at Bear and smiled.
“Well, which one do you want?”
Bear nodded back.
“All of them.”
Brenda yelled out from across the diner.
“He used to play for the Cowboys, Mel! Serve him up the good stuff! We don’t get to see a big old hunk of man like this every day! He can tackle me anytime!”
Everyone but Bear laughed at Brenda’s enthusiasm.
Cooper Wyse looked at Bear and then nodded in Brenda’s direction.
“Looks like you got yourself a stalker there, Bear. She’s downright smitten.”
Bear didn’t bother to look up, but chose to concentrate fully on the food in front of him, though his left hand did manage to extend a large middle finger at Cooper.
Dublin tapped the top of Imran’s right hand to get his attention.
“So Imran, what is this place we’re supposed to be meeting the godfather tonight?”
Imran, who had almost finished his meal, took a drink of water and then wiped his face with napkin before answering.
“It’s a bar called “Godfather’s”. We do Karaoke there! The godfather loves to listen to people sing, loves to see people relaxing and having fun. For him to invite you there tonight is a good sign he likes you and is considering helping you to get to Manitoba.”
Bear looked up from the last of his food just long enough to growl his disagreement of Imran’s description of the godfather.
“He just sounded more like an asshole to me. Sitting there interrogating us. What the hell was that all about?”
A look of panic washed over Imran’s face as he glanced around to see who might have heard Bear’s remarks.
“Hush! Don’t speak about the godfather like that! Show some respect! Yes, he was asking questions but that is because he feels it is his duty to make certain you are who you say you are. That is all. You had your Old Man in Dominatus, right? Well, here in Wilfrid, we have our godfather.”
Dublin nudged an elbow into Mac’s side.
“Say, Mac, when’s the last time you played a guitar for anyone?”
Mac glanced over at Dublin and shook his head slowly at her.
“No. Don’t even think about it.”
Dublin persisted.
“C’mon Mac, you used to play for us all the time in Dominatus. We’re going to be sitting there in a bar tonight. Maybe Imran can round up a guitar for you?”
Imran nodded his head enthusiastically.
“Yes! We have guitars at the godfather’s! You can play, Mac?”
Mac shook his head but Dublin ignored him.
“Yes, he can play wonderfully. And he can sing too. Mr. Mac Walker is a man of many talents.”
Mac continued to shake his head, but he was smiling as he did so.
“Ok, maybe. I’m not saying yes – I’m saying maybe.”
Imran’s hand slapped down on top of the table.
“Then it is settled! Mac Walker is to sing tonight for the people of Wilfrid!”
Brenda’s voice shouted out from across the diner again.
“And I got first dibs on dancing with the big guy!”
Bear put his hands over his face.
“Oh Lord…”
XXVI.
Shortly before eight o’clock that evening, Imran, arrived at the Wilfrid Guest House to pick up the group and take them to Godfather’s, the nightclub owned by its namesake. Cooper Wyse was again forced to leave Brando behind at the house, something he clearly didn’t want to do, but a requirement Brando seemed more than happy to comply with as he stretched out once again in front of the fireplace.
Dublin mentioned that they weren’t exactly dressed for a night on the town, to which Imran waved away the suggestion with his near perpetual smile.
“It’s very casual there. No worries. We will first go up to the second floor above the club. That is the godfather’s personal residence. He wishes to speak to you in more detail about your journey, and what he might be willing to do to help.”
Cooper, still agitated at leaving his beloved Doberman behind, pointed a finger into Imran’s chest.
“Cut the shit, Imran. You know who we need to help us. You also likely already know if the godfather will allow it or no. So what’s it going to be?”
Imran took a step back from Cooper and shook his head.
“I don’t know that, Cooper. I would t
ell you if I did.”
Cooper persisted.
“Have you brought it up to him? Our idea on how we can get across all that land between here and there as quickly and safely as possible?”
Imran raised both of his hands in front of him.
“Yes, I have. The godfather’s response was tough to read – very tough. It usually is. But he didn’t say no, so that’s good news.”
Military Fiction: THE MAC WALKER COLLECTION: A special ops military fiction collection... Page 114