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main | table of contents Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 11 Moon Nest “I can’t believe you just accepted the job, just like that,” said Verity as she and Gammell stepped out of the pawn shop. The door clanged shut behind them. “You didn’t even ask him any questions about the people who inherited this Samuel Verne’s estate. You didn’t ask about the circumstances of when the will was read or who Verne’s relatives were or who were the executors. Who did Samuel Verne know? Where is his estate? And who exactly is Samuel Verne?” “Why didn’t you ask all those questions when we were back in there?” he asked, amused. “I don’t know. You were in charge? You’re the boss.” “All right. But next time, if you’re dying to ask a question, just speak up.” “Sometimes I feel ridiculous asking stupid questions.” “Well, if it makes you feel any better, Pelorus probably doesn’t know the answer to any of those questions. His primary concern is about beating his rival, not finding out crucial bits of information. Anyways, how about dinner?” “Sure. Where?” “Next door.” “Is it any good?” “I don’t know. Haven’t been there before. Come on, it’ll be an adventure.” The restaurant with the neon sign looked a bit shady to Verity. Inside was dim, an intimate setting of marble and dark wood. The entrance was graced with a waist-high statue of a crow carved in ebony, its wings spread as if it were to take flight. Out of the crow’s beak spewed water into a tiny pool that had a pump to recycle the water back up the statue. Beside the statue was the counter with a cash register and a woman wearing a long dark dress that hugged her body closely. She wore no makeup except for the heavy kohl around her eyes. “Two?” the woman inquired. Gammell nodded. “Yes.” She took two red menus from the counter and led the way into the restaurant. There were a few other patrons at the restaurant, but in shadowy light, they were nothing but other pieces of backdrop. The hostess stopped at a table hugging the wall. The seats on either side were long and blocked off the view from the tables in front and behind. As they sat down and the hostess dropped the menus in front of them, she said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.” Verity opened her menu. “Monteport New Fusion? What’s that?” “It could be anything. So what are you going to choose? Derelict’s Fillet, Aunat’s Tail Vein, or Sun Dew Leaf?” “They all sound like ingredients in a witch’s brew. And I’m not so sure that they’ll taste as great either.” “Can it be that bad?” “Possibly.” She looked over her menu at him. His eyes were on her. “I’m going to try the Moon Nest.” “You sound so serious.” “I am,” she replied. “At this point, I’m hungry enough to eat a moldy brick. So what are you getting?” “I’ll try the Mine Under Snow.” “You’re crazy.” “Tell me something I don’t know.” She laughed. “You’re a crazy with a sense of humor.” He smiled. “Is that better than just a plain crazy?” “I’ll have to think about that.” “Well, don’t think too hard.” The hostess came back to get their orders and to place two frosted cups of steaming tea in front of them. Fifteen minutes later, the hostess was back with their meals. “Enjoy,” she told them, her mouth tipped slightly upward in a smile. “This isn’t so bad,” said Verity. She had a plate filled with fried noodles interlaced with thin strips of beef and carrots. The entire concoction had been shaped into a lopsided nest which held pale dollops of water chestnuts. She placed a forkful of noodles into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Pretty good, although I would have to say that Miranda is hands down still the best.” “Speak for yourself, if this is what I think it is…” Gammell stared down at what looked like a heap of white rice, “I think I got gipped.” “Well, you did order the Mine Under Snow. Maybe there’s something under all that rice.” With a fork, he stabbed downward into the heap of rice and pulled out what looked like a green bean and a mushroom. “Well. They certainly are quite creative with their names.”  |