by Gabi Moore
Lilly wondered what would happen to this mall the day another highway or mall was put in place. It too would lose stores and die. It seemed to happen everywhere. A new shopping district would open and an older one would die off. Was it the product of evolution or something else? She couldn’t tell and didn’t much care.
“So, where do we go to find this chili place?” Emily asked Dion. “Do we make a right here at the main concourse?”
“It’s what the map said.”
Michael Hades was supposed to be the master of Southwestern chili. His restaurant in downtown Scipio was a landmark for years. The local choice of eating establishments in Scipio tended to the exotic only in the way of Italian foods, as the Italians had brought with them their love for spices when they first showed up at the turn of the century. For the longest time the other big non-English speaking group in town was German, but the town’s German themed restaurants had never taken off at the time. Most of them were integrated into the local beer halls located just outside the auto plants.
Sean didn’t like spicy food, so he knew little of what made the Hades restaurant so popular. People would order the hottest chili on the menu and expect to become sensory deprived in minutes if the pot was fresh.
Michael Hades had a theory about the preparation of chili and he didn’t think a good pot of chili should be so hot it rendered your taste buds useless. He once told a news reporter a good pot of chili had an excellent flavor hidden under the spices. It should sneak up as the customer was finished with his meal. He should leave the table with flushed skin, but still have a sensation of satiety and fullness. A good bowl of chili was subtle as the snap of a whip, not blunt as the blow from a hammer. It should let you know it was there in a subtle manner, not smash you up the side of the head and stomp on your face. He wouldn’t say where his chili recipe had originated just that it was “south of the border”.
On cold winter nights, he would spin a tale to his patrons, which had him stranded off the coast of the Mayan Peninsula when his merchant freighter hit a sandbar. He would tell people how a beautiful senorita took him home to meet her father, Don Gordo, who showed Senior Hades the secret of cooking the perfect bowl of chili. He was forced to promise marriage to get the recipe, but he snuck out of the hacienda one night. An army of guapos chased him north until he reached the border crossing at the Rio Grande. He was forced to memorize the recipe before he swam the river and only with the vision of a steaming hot bowl of chili in front of him was he able to survive to reach the other side. Captured by the border patrol he was only spared the indignity of a jail cell when he could recite the final scores of every baseball world series from the years 1960 to 1970. They almost arrested him anyway when he expressed his love for the Cincinnati Reds and the border guards were all Dodgers fans. He was released only when he cooked them a pot of the secret chili recipe. To this day, the pot of his chili is kept at boiling temperatures and every night a new batch of vegetables and meat is added with the ten-pound batch of seasoning that Don Gordo gave to him.
At least this was the general outline of the story he told on cold winter nights. No one knew if there was any truth to it at all. Some people pointed out that Hades changed the story a little bit each time. But no one cared as the man was a natural born storyteller and people loved his chili. Who cared if half of the ingredients came in steel cans certified by the USDA.
In truth, Hades learned the power of fire elementals at an early age when his particular clan of elemental workers discovered his unique ability to start bathroom fires and spontaneous combustion on piles of wood. By fifteen, all his peers bowed to his innate ability to control the unpredictable fire spirits and the salamanders, which could be reasoned with, but still enjoyed burning down the occasional house.
He needed a career and a cook was the best choice. Hades used the best and most up to date cook stoves in his kitchen, but he didn’t need them. The man could cook a slab of beef in minutes by directing a fire elemental to do the job. However, the stoves were needed for the kitchen staff and the restaurant inspectors. In the summer, he gave a cookout that employed salamanders and no one ever complained about the barbecue.
Placing a satellite restaurant in the mall was a dream of his and he spent every other day at the new restaurant ensuring the quality was the same that he was known for in Scipio. The business hadn’t quite picked up yet. However, it would soon do it, he felt. It was only a matter of time until the word spread in the little community around the mall about his new place.
Michael Hades was what the locals liked to call a “ruddy man”. His hair was red and his complexion followed. He was tall and wide; sometimes he had difficulty getting out of his car. But he was a generous man and rewarded the people who worked for him in every way possible. Christmas bonuses were always big and he bragged not one cook was ever let go for lack of work. It was considered an honor in the food business to work for the man and one year in his kitchen was worth the twelve you might get anywhere else in town.
Dion only knew a little bit about the restaurant they needed to find. He’d remembered the location from the now burned map. His aunt and uncle stayed home most of the time and didn’t eat out much. It was always a treat when they did. In fact, this would be the first time he’d ever visited this particular restaurant.
They walked down the concourse a bit and decided to wait before approaching the restaurant. So far, there was no sign of Karanzen’s men, but this could all change in a minute. Dion was surprised none of them lurked anywhere in the vicinity. Usually, he could spot one or two in the distance who kept an eye on him and his friends once inside the mall. Even the security cameras couldn’t watch every part of the mall and security needed human eyes to keep a watch on everyone. But today he didn’t see any of them in the mall.
“Do you remember exactly where the chili place was located on the map?” Sean asked Dion. Sean was dressed a little better than normal today with his shirt tucked in his pants. Emily had spoken to him about his appearance.
“Not exactly,” Dion said, “but most of the food places are in the same location. All we have to do is find them and the Hades restaurant will be there.”
“Emily wants to check out this record store,” he announced. “Why don’t we go inside it and meet up with you later? That way if any of us tangle with your uncle there will be at least one party left for the rescue.”
“If he strikes,” Dion told him, “we’ll be hit at the same time. But you might as well go ahead and check it out. I’m going into this game store. Plan on both of us returning here in a half-hour.” Dion checked his watch.
Sean looked at his. “No problem. See you then.” Then he walked away with Emily.
Dion watched him leave and turned to Lilly. “I don’t see how it will be problem to let them have a little time to themselves. Let’s go to the game store.”
“As long as you reach the restaurant on time. I just hope the owner is around today. He has another one downtown. What if he’s there?”
“He’s here today.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
Chapter 6
The Elewheron Puzzle and Game Company was a small shop in the large mall. When Dion and Lilly walked into it, the shop had several jigsaw puzzles laid out on a table where people were in the process of putting them together. In the back of the room, several other high schoolers were looking over the selection of war games. Some of the war games came with complete sets and figures, but many of them had a collection of pewter figures that needed to be purchased separately from the main game.
To Dion it seemed to be a good deal for the game makers. Sell the players a basic set, and then continue to upgrade it and force them to purchase more figures to play. Some of the figures came hand-painted, others were bought without decoration and the player could paint them on their own. Naturally, the game store sold paint and various modeling compounds to upgrade the figures. Once again, it was a good plan for all partie
s involved since the gamers could add some individual flair into what they did and the game company could sell them more products. It was quite a step up from the toy soldiers he remembered as a kid.
The manager looked to be in her twenties and was behind the cash register when they entered the store. She wore the “Ben Franklin” glasses, popular with grandmas and hippies from ten years ago and had a trace of grey in her hair. She smiled at them, but didn’t push herself on the new couple in the store. She continued working on an account book as they made their way around in the store and looked at the games.
“Were you ever good at jigsaw puzzles?” Dion asked Lilly as they shuffled through some of the boxes. “I never was. Every time I think of a jigsaw puzzle, I think about a movie I saw on TV where some rich lady spent all her time putting them together. I have better things to do with my time.”
“I liked putting them together as a kid,” she told him. “Haven’t had much time to do them lately. Emily still likes to put them together.”
They walked over to a table where several puzzles were partially assembled and looked at the result. Across from them, a man in his twenties attempted to get a puzzle together, but he wasn’t very successful according to the look on his face. He picked up one piece, then another, and looked at them as he tried to find a place to put each one on the partially completed puzzle.
“Have you looked at this one?” The manager’s voice grabbed their attention.
Dion and Lilly turned around to see the lady walk up to them with a small-boxed jigsaw puzzle. “It’s our latest and I think you might like it.” She sat it down in front of them and walked away.
Dion picked it up and looked at it. The puzzle showed a large fireplace in a castle with a blazing fire in it on the box. The puzzle was complicated and had close to five hundred pieces. He opened it and saw the freshly printed puzzle pieces inside. This one had never been assembled before.
“Fire,” Dion said and looked at Lilly. “The puzzle depicts a fireplace. How long do you think it would take you to put this one together?”
“Not too long with your help,” she told Dion. “Do you want to go ahead and try?” She gestured to the empty table in front of them.
“I think it’s important we do it,” Dion said as she dumped the pieces out. Lilly began looking at them and piling the various puzzle pieces into different piles.
Dion worked with her as Lilly went into problem solving mode and began to assemble the puzzle. She would pick up a piece and either put it in the puzzle or into one of several piles she had on the table.
Lilly worked quick and soon had an outline of the final picture in front of her. As they were able to compare it to the one on the box, she had an idea of what to do.
Dion knew something was about to be revealed in the puzzle. Why had he chosen to go inside this store? If he’d gone into another one, would the message have been delivered a different way? He decided it was a matter of fate that he’d picked up this puzzle in this store and continued to help Lilly.
Sean and Emily found themselves in Mad Larry’s Great World of Sound in the next store.
Sean enjoyed visiting record stores as they always carried the vinyl albums you never heard on the radio. Sometimes it was a good idea to take the right amount of money if you had a purchase in mind. Some time ago, he’d found a record he wanted to buy for an upcoming concert, The No Band, and was on the point of giving the clerk the money when he remembered he needed to get his hair cut that day. He excused himself and went to the bank to get some more cash. When Sean returned, the album, the only copy they had in the entire store, was gone, sold to the next customer who’d walked into the store.
Emily had her favorites as well. She and Lilly were big fans of a British singer named Stew Rodgers who’d enjoyed some chart success on the AM radio. They’d seen him in concert a few times and looked forward to another tour he was supposed to make in next year. She looked around to see if there was anything that interested her in the cut-out bin.
But, as she looked over the albums, Emily couldn’t find a single one that interested her. She remembered these particular bins tended to stock one-hit wonders and albums by bands that never went anywhere, but you could find some good ones every now and then. She’d even landed a difficult to find record from Seta Penfield last year at a record shop in downtown Scipio. She remembered the clerk at the store grumbling about how he’d had his eye on that one too.
“Have you ever heard of any of these bands?” Sean eventually said to her as they scanned the collection in front of them.
The albums were displayed so they could see them in their twelve-inch glory with the big pictures on the covers. They didn’t appear to be some garbage operation, each one was produced with loving care and the artwork on each album was excellent.
Emily walked over to the wall, withdrew one album, and looked it over. She saw a complete list of credits and musicians on the back. None of whom she recognized.
“Not a one,” she told him. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of any of these bands on the radio. Not even the FM stations play them. They don’t look too bad, but how are you supposed to buy a record by someone you’ve never heard before? There used to be listening booths, maybe someday they’ll be back.”
Meanwhile, over at the game store, Lilly was busy finishing the puzzle. Dion had stood next to Lilly and helped her with the final assembly process. To watch Lilly work at putting a puzzle together was miraculous. She would pick up a piece and instinctively know if it was one she wanted right away, or one not to use. Lilly would place the unwanted pieces on the part of the table furthest from her and then return to the main pile. By the end of the half-hour, the huge puzzle had taken shape. People would stop by and watch her at work, but people didn’t comment as they realized she was in some kind of meditative state as she worked.
“It’s because this is a tax loss store,” the manager of Mad Mike’s said to Sean and Emily as they looked at the wall. “You won’t find these bands anywhere but at this store. Some are pretty good. It’s a shame we can’t sell many of them, but no one really cares.”
“I don’t get it,” Emily said to the man. “What is the purpose of a store that sells records that no one wants to buy? Don’t you have many sales?”
“We get them all day,” he explained, “but not too many. People come in here, buy what they think is a popular group, then they bring it back. I have to refund their money all the time. Some of them do stay with the purchase.”
“What’s a tax loss album?” Sean asked the man. This place was too strange, even for this mall.
“The tax laws are funny,” the man began. “They take so much out at one level, that it makes sense for the record companies to dump cash on bands which no one cares about so they don’t end up at the next level. They have to show on the books money was spent on new acts, but no one expects them to make a dime. The public is fickle and no one wants to take a chance on an unknown act, no matter how good they might be. So the record company finds a tape, has it pressed to vinyl, matches it with a snazzy cover and then it ends up here. We always lose money and they are able to show on the books the excess cash was burnt up. The band gets a break, the record company blows some money on a new act, everyone wins but the government and no one cares about them.”
Emily cocked her ear. “But I heard that song on the radio last week. Don’t tell me that band is a tax loss band.”
“Of course not, we have to sell something to stay in business.”
Dion watched as Lilly placed the last piece of the puzzle in place. She stood back and looked at it. Too bad no one else was in the store to see her accomplishment.
They looked down at the image of the fire in the fireplace. It was taken from a painting, not a photograph. The colors were vivid and jumped out at them. Dion looked up to see the manager come over and look at what Lilly had managed to do.
The only thing missing from the scene were the puzzle pieces, which were strategically
removed from the puzzle box by someone. They had done this in a very clever fashion so that the missing pieces spelled out a word in the middle of the puzzle.
Looking at them from the center of the fire in the fireplace was the word “Atziluth”. The word was plain to see, although some of the letters were a little bit rough because of the sharpness of the corners.
“Atziluth,” Lilly said. “What does it mean?”
In the record store, Emily and Sean remembered they needed to return to the concourse and wait for Dion and Lilly.
Sean checked his wristwatch and gently tapped Emily on the shoulder. His fiancée was busy talking to the record store manager about the unheard music and bands which would fade into the lost past.
“Someday they will be rediscovered,” the manager told them as they left the store. “Too much good music in here for it all to be lost. I feel it in my soul, but it might be thirty or forty years before anyone rediscovers these bands.”
They came around the corner and encountered Dion with Lilly, who were ready to continue the quest. Lilly had a strange look on her face.
“How was the record store?” Dion asked them. He seemed to be concerned with Lilly’s state of mind.
“It was good,” Emily said. “Good if you like stores which sell records no one wants to buy and is supposed to lose money for the owners. This mall is filled with stores which can’t exist anywhere else.”
“It’s one of the reasons it’s here,” Dion said.
“So what did you find in your game store?” Sean asked Dion and Emily. The sun was streaming into the large window next to the concourse.
“Nothing much,” Lilly answered for him. “Just a puzzle with a mysterious word which became visible when you put it together.” She stared off into space.
