The nephews had gotten it in their head that Isaac gave me the worst jobs. I thought I had it almost perfect being still somehow alone in a kitchen full of people. The nephews kept their distance until Isaac set me up to work the line with them. I adored the fast pace demands of the job.
There wasn’t time to think past what was happening right in the moment. I would assemble plates in a rhythm that would shift in tone periodically. I learned some semblance of grace dancing between boiling oils and bursts of flame. I learned quickly. Before long I was running the line despite some heated protests.
Business picked up from things going smoothly. Orders were on time and cooked to perfection. The Diner got a local reputation as THE place to be for a weekend date night. Isaac asked for my opinions about the menu and let me implement small changes. I wanted to make things better…I wanted to stay and see Isaac succeed.
The nephews resented having a girl in their territory...I guessed. I never really knew why they disliked me so much. I got shoved and bumped… a lot of accidents… involving running into me face first…or tripping and falling into me. Nothing I couldn’t handle but nothing I could really complain about either.
I didn’t put up a fuss and just stuck to doing my job and getting back to my apartment. The no-commented-upon rubbing against me when I was working in tight places on the line was the worst. I already knew there was nothing they could ever do to me that even came close to what had already been done. The nephews didn’t have the stomach for it. Knowing that I could survive anything they did…made me stronger.
I came into work one day and there was a large slat of inserts sitting at my prep station. It had already been filled with starter plants. It had my name on a card shoved down into the dirt.
I opened the card worried for a moment that I had an admirer. One who apparently knew that I kept a lot of plants? The card was printed with white lilies and I was afraid to touch it and smudge the perfect picture. Inside the card was blank with a neatly written note which said…Three years- good job- Isaac. A ticket fell out of the card.
I couldn’t remember telling him about my plants but I must have. I had been here three years already…It hadn’t felt like it. What a weird anniversary to celebrate. I guess I had outlasted everyone who wasn’t a member of Isaacs’s family. When I retrieved the ticket from the floor I noticed that it was for Bluff Dwellers Cave.
*
“You’re getting a raise, a good raise, maybe some health care you’ll have paid time off too” he said glancing at me.
Fiddling with a stack of paper not quite meeting my eyes, he said this under his breath. Isaac seemed to be lost. He looked small in his beaten crooked chair and after a moment started swinging his body back and forth slowly. He would lift one foot then the other very softly and purposefully. There was a tension in him as he sat in his office girding himself for something.
“I could use some health care” I said prodding him a bit for more information. “A paid vacation would be nice” I said hesitantly.
I could feel that he had more to add and I wanted him to tell me what was going on with him. I cared about Isaac and enjoyed working with him…just as much…probably more… than he did. I think that’s why I lasted so long in his place, because it wasn’t in me to back down to him. I believed myself safe with Isaac….I never thought I would have…safety with anyone.
Isaac took a breath and it shook as he inhaled. “My son died yesterday. Give Jacob the keys to lock up tonight and run the kitchen how you see fit. I am leaving for a week or so. You already know how to do everything. If my nephews…” his eyes widened and he gritted his teeth “give you a problem… fire their asses and hire who you want.” With that Isaac stood handed me the restaurant keys and gestured to get out.
I was so surprised that Isaac had a son I didn’t even offer my condolences. I simply took the keys from his hand and showed him my back. Years I had been with him, just an employee but still… I had no idea he had a child. He sat down hard behind me slowly swiveling his chair as if he was gathering himself. I placed my hand on the door latch hesitating, I turned, really looking at him.
He looked so…old sitting in his office chair. Isaac was so imposing and powerful all the time. I realized that he had said good bye to sixty a while ago. That he hadn’t been young for a long time.
I had often forgotten… when he gets red from yelling that he isn’t a young man. That he was old enough to be my grandfather… if I had ever had a clue what that was like… it was because of this man. On impulse I let go of the door knob and turned back to him. Hunching over I kissed his cheek.
I hadn’t kissed anyone…held anyone’s hand in so long…I was afraid I had forgotten how. He looked up at me with soft cloudy green eyes beneath his abundance of shaggy gray hair and I knew that he was aware of the sorrow I held for him.
“I will take care of things for you.” I said softly. It is all I had to offer him.
“I know you will” he said…rubbing his cloudy green eyes.
*
The slicer swallowed the beef. It took a long time to comfortably run the blade. The whirling metal let out a hum which was hypnotic. I was afraid of the slicer. I had started volunteering to clean it after it had been used.
I had been trying to do things that scared me without any reason…like cleaning the slicer. Carefully taking it apart and wiping it down…I would spend a long time cleaning it brilliant mirror-like silver. It was used for large batches of vegetables and beef. Between uses it needed to be completely sanitized with a special mixture of chemicals.
I concentrated on seeing myself in it as I would calmly wipe away beef blood that seeped into the crannies. Isaac never yelled at anyone cleaning the blades. It was the most dangerous piece of equipment in the kitchen. Even cleaning it could get you cut badly.
I tended to my prep list that needed the slicer when it was down time for the kitchen. I liked being alone when I used it and I was still learning how to handle finishing up on time. I rarely took a break until after I did the cutting. There was more than twenty pounds of beef that needed to be sliced down for several of the items we served.
I would adjust the height of the blades and begin. Working very carefully I would often take too long to do the job… but I was never chastised for it. I tried so hard not to watch the blood drip off of the blades that I would forget I wasn’t totally alone. The kitchen always had people coming and going.
I was bumped slightly from someone heading out the back door. It was most likely a server. Servers never had the right shoes to keep balance in the back of the house. I was at the end piece of a hunk of beef and my hand slipped smoothly sliding across the blade. I didn’t even feel it take a bite.
I stared blankly at the palm of my hand where a pale damp patch was. It started to bleed. Bubbling out of my skin in tiny dots, I was fascinated by it. Blood pooled into larger patches that ran down my arm in small rivers. I stared at the brightness that came from me and noticed how very white my skin was.
Isaac was there pulling me away within seconds. He ripped the plug-in cord of the slicer from the wall hauling me to the back storage room. There was a first aid kit there. He was quick and gentle as he cleaned and washed my hand.
I realized that he was speaking to me but I could not figure out what he was saying. I started to breath very quickly as the gauze he pressed to me began filling with a scarlet stain. I could feel old wounds clearly and my eyes swum. For a moment I was back in a red, red room with copper smells and a still form.
He physically pushed me down on top of a stack of boxes squeezing my hand hard to get the bleeding to slow. I looked away from my hand up to where the soda syrup refills were. Isaac stopped talking and he was humming under his breath. I knew it had to be bad but I couldn’t look. I didn’t want to have a panic attack at work because of a little of my blood. I had worked so hard to keep it all together in my head.
Peeling the gauze away from my hand he let out a relieved sigh. I h
eard him open the first aid kit and some mysterious packages…probably gauze…he was humming again. I stayed focused on the syrup which would occasionally let out a hissing noise from servers getting customers refills. I didn’t look at my hand or what was being done to it. I focused on the humming and hiss.
“The bleeding has stopped” Isaac said softly.
I could feel the air hit my palm until another piece of gauze replaced it. Isaac tugged and turned my hand in his still humming. I felt wetness on my arms and realized Isaac was wiping them off with something damp smelling of antiseptic. He slid the wetness up my arm to my shoulder. Then he made a satisfied sound and reached behind me to untie my apron. He pulled my hair net off when he removed it.
“Do you want to go to the hospital” He asked in a tone I had never heard from him before…kind… and sad.
“No” I said. “No…hospitals” He stood over me blocking me from the rest of the kitchen…It was just the two of us and I relaxed a fraction.
“I will be right back” he said.
I nodded at him turning my face to look at the syrup again. I forgot that they were all different shades of brown with hints of gold and red…except the Sprite…that was clear. They pulsed like plastic animals all lined in a row with tubes running from them into the wall. I found it…fascinatingly bizarre. It reminded me of IV’s and feeding tubes. It reminded me of what my insides had looked like…I let that thought drift right past.
Isaac returned with a new apron and a plate of food. He set the plate down and fussed with putting my apron on until he reached a level of satisfaction I couldn’t fathom. I couldn’t have tied the apron myself anyways. I realized my hand had been wrapped to the mid-forearm in bright eye watering pink vet tape. I could feel my hand like a steady pulse. It wasn’t much of a cut just irritating…and bloody. I looked at Isaac questionably and he smiled.
“I never get to use the pink on the guys” he said smiling at me without an ounce of shame. “You eat that” he said shoving the plate into my hands. “And come back out when you are ready…you look… pale” he ran his hands trough his hair and sat down next to me on the boxes. “You didn’t even make a sound when you got cut. I thought it was worse than it was” he was apologetic as he turned my bandaged hand over in his own.
The pink made me smile…and I guess I didn’t have to do dishes for a while…at least until it healed up. Isaac was very calm and quiet next to me. I had never seen this side of him….quiet…gentle. Everything else in me that responded to Isaac’s attentions I ignored.
The next day when I came into work the slicer was gone. It usually sat on its own counter just near the hall to the back door. The slicer was bolted to the counter which was made of solid steel. Bolting it down would keep the slicer from shifting during use.
The floor from where the steel counter had been was so new looking. Extra bright level tile was very noticeable against the worn uneven stuff walked on every day. It took a while to realize that the tile was broken with deep gauges as if the counter and the slicer had been ripped from the walls.
When I asked Jacob what had happened to the slicer I was given an odd look. Jacob told me that Isaac was updating the menu and equipment. The restaurant hadn’t been open for more than two years. I thought it was weird to change up the menu now. But what did I know about running a business…nothing.
It was several weeks later that I realized…if I hadn’t made a sound…how did he know I had been cut?
*
The morning flew by. In fact I had completely forgotten James in the dish pit under the tutelage of Jacob until the middle of the lunch rush. The regular dishwasher came up to me on the line without the slightest trace of diplomacy and demanded to know if he had a job. We only had two full time regular dishwasher positions… usually everyone else was expected to pitch in. Usually it was just me that pitched in.
“What’s going on?” I asked without a clue.
I was too busy trying to keep the line afloat while the line cooks traded under breath comments…mostly how I must have earned my promotion on my back. I gritted my teeth ignoring them, Isaac had left a while ago, I didn’t see him leave but I knew the second he was gone. That’s when the trash talk and mumbles started in the kitchen.
I was going to have bruises I’d been bumped ‘accidently’ against so many counters today. I was in the window trying not to start screaming at a server who had forgotten to put in her fourth order today when the dishwasher had caught my attention.
“The new guy in dish, who is he?” The dishwasher said.
He hastily got out of my way as I assembled yet another rushed order. I was frustrated with the servers today. They were dropping too many balls and it made my job harder. I didn’t like the dishwashers tone. It may have been the boiling fry basket in my hand that kept him at a distance. Or it may have been how I kept it between us.
“What new guy? Why aren’t you in dish? They are getting behind and I can’t help I have my hands full.” I was perplexed for a minute. I set the last rushed plate on the window yelling “Order up” for its server. I turned to the dishwasher, “Yeah… I forgot about him. Just train him in dish today he’s going to float for a while before I decide what to do with him.” With that I went back to the stream of tickets coming in.
“Until YOU decide?” The dishwasher said... he looked shocked at the prospect.
I definitely did not like his tone. I gave him a level stare taking in his dirty clothing and missing teeth. Most full time dishwashers in their mid twenties are tweekers, or just too young and dumb to do anything else. I didn’t think much of them as a whole… but as long as they did their jobs…they would keep their jobs. I didn’t care to know their private lives or even enough to learn their names. They were… one and all… transitional…just like everything I had ever known.
“Didn’t you hear, SHE’s the new kitchen manager” Tavis’s voice carries and I had the sensation that he had screamed it in my ear.
He was standing way to close to me. I could smell the sour on him. Tavis wasn’t a bad looking guy… but he smelled bad to me… like old vegetables on a hot day. Standing this close to me he had to look up to see my face.
Tavis never looked at my face...he usually just talked to my chest... he was the ringleader of Isaac’s bastard nephews. There was Kelly, Darrell, and Craig in no particular order... all mirror images of Tavis. I got them mixed up all the time so I usually didn’t bother calling them by name. They were “The Nephews” just lumped in together. They had stopped working the minute Tavis butted into the conversation waiting to see what I would say. I had things to do. So did Tavis and the rest of his clan folk for that matter.
“What he said” I gestured rudely to Tavis. “Show him the ropes, YES… YOU still have a job” emphasizing that maybe other people didn’t.
I glared at the line cooks who had been slacking off since Isaac left. All four of his nephews had been working like garbage all day. I was tired before I had gotten here today…just too tired to be diplomatic.
Having to deal with all of the bosses’ family hires on the line for the same shift… was like herding ungrateful cats. Ungrateful cats in heat with a tendency to wander off in a huff…or scratch you. Nepotism at its finest anytime I had to work with all of them at the same time.
“As for the rest of you” I left the words hanging in the air and received some jaded angry looks in return. “These tickets aren’t going to fix themselves.” I resumed my fast pace entirely focused on what was in front of me.
*
I blinked when I saw all the zeros in my hand. I blinked several times because I had never seen a number this large that wasn’t in monopoly. An uncomfortable lawyer stood at my bedside in almost a textbook manner of respecting personal space.
He looked…expensive. It wasn’t the well fitted suit that hugged him like a perfectly grafted skin. Or the casual way he had glanced at my room declining an offer to sit. It was the smug certainty in his smile. He had a look of
being competent and well received.
Getting things done quickly and quietly was what I picked up from him….and that his business wasn’t personal. He reminded me of my husband. I frowned deeply to myself and let Mr. Nameless Lawyer of so and so think what he wanted.
He had handed me the solution to many of my worries. I silently regarded him for what I knew was an uncomfortable amount of time. He patiently waited growing warmer by the minute. The room was always kept warm as I chilled so easily. Any more infections would probably kill me. Not that I really cared. I just enjoyed seeing the pretty well groomed man sweat. I got bored after twenty minutes of silence and sighing looked at the enormous check.
“What is this for” I asked him rubbing the check slightly between my fingers.
“It’s a settlement… of sorts…from your husband’s…uh… hum…family” The lawyer looked almost panicked shifting his shoulders. Maybe he just didn’t like hospitals or maybe was embarrassed that he was handing a broken woman guilt money.”They said that they were responsible for their son” His face was turning slightly green and he sweat more while he waited.
“His family never met me” I said giving him nothing.
I already knew how uncomfortable people were around me…the horror of it all was stamped on their faces… and I was getting tired of it. I didn’t know a thing about…HIS…family and now…now I didn’t want to.
I wanted to berate this composed man with his guilt gifts I wanted to throw the check at him and throttle him. I wanted to do so many things. That was just…not who I was…who I wanted to be. When I hesitated I knew.
“Never-the-less” he said.
He indicated the check in my hand with an expectant look on his face. I nodded my head. I had already decided to accept the money. It would pay for all the hospital bills which were staggering. I would never have been able to ever pay back a fraction of them… not even with a lifetime of working.
Merrily In Tragedy: Book One (Merrily We Live 1) Page 4
