The Lost Mage (25 page)

Humph.

“Is he mad at the closed door again?”

“Yes.”

Nora bent and picked Mrowley up, cuddling him next to her. “It’s okay, love, now you’ll get some attention of your own.”

Mrowley peeked over her shoulder and gave Darakin a smug look.

Darakin laughed.

After a few minutes, Nora put the cat down on the throw blanket on the sofa.

“I’ve got to get dressed so we can go to the Galaxy Café.” She went to the bedroom.

Can I go?

“What? No. You’re the one who told me they don’t let you in shops. Plus, Nora thinks you’re safer here than coming outside.”

I’ll just hang around their garbage outside. Those places have really tasty garbage.

“No, you’re not going to eat their garbage!”

“Now what?” Nora asked as she passed on her way to the bathroom.

“He wants us to take him so he can rummage through the restaurant’s garbage. He says it’s tasty.”

“Ugh! No, but we’ll bring him home a doggie bag.”

No! Darakin, make sure she knows I’m a cat, not a dog.
Mrowley howled.

“Nora, why would we bring a doggie bag to a cat … and what exactly is a doggie bag?”

She laughed. “Silly. A doggie bag is what the restaurants call what they put your leftovers in – you know, what you can’t finish from your meal. We’ll bring him whatever we don’t finish.”

Phew. I thought she was species-confused for a minute there. I like the sound of this doggie bag, though. Please don’t eat all of your food.

“Don’t worry, kitty. I’m sure there’ll be some left for you.”

“Oh, there will be plenty,” Nora said on her way back to the bedroom. “I can never finish anything I order.”

Can I request beef, please? Or pork. Or something made of pork and beef – with a side of chicken.

“I don’t think people here mix all of those things together. I’ll be sure to get beef, pork or chicken, though. Okay?”

Sure, sure. Whatever, dude. I’m not picky.

Darakin let the remark pass without comment.

Nora came out of the bedroom, having finished her makeup and dressing rituals. Darakin admired the slim cut of her figure in her jeans and it suddenly occurred to him why this society wore such form fitting clothing. He smiled. She seemed to feel his smile and looked up at him. She smiled back and took his hand to lead him out of the apartment.

At the door, she turned back to address Mrowley. “Now, no fly chases, no messes, no broken … anything. Just sit on the couch and watch TV.”

As always, Mrowley stared back at her silently, blinking in innocence.

“Mrowley,” Darakin said, a warning in his voice. “No counters or battles with insects or rodents. Okay?”

Sure, sure, you know you only have to ask.

Chapter Twenty

Darakin gaped at the Galaxy greeter just inside the door of the restaurant. From her shiny, silver metallic dress and matching platform boots to the green-toned facial makeup and antennae that bounced atop her head, she was every inch the old sixties-style space creature from the movies. Nora reached up and closed his jaw before turning to the girl.

“Welcome, intergalactic travelers. Shuttle for two?” the greeter asked in a voice that indicated she’d done this one too many times to be enthusiastic about it.

“What’s a shuttle?” Darakin asked in confusion, watching as the girl’s costume antennae waved back and forth.

“She means a table,” Nora said. She turned to the greeter. “It’s his first time here.”

“Oh, well in that case, have a terrific flight. Right this way.” The greeter headed off into the dark interior of the restaurant.

“Flight?” Darakin asked in panic. He grabbed Nora’s arm to hold her back. “We’re going to fly? I don’t want to fly, Nora, men were not meant to fly. You didn’t tell me they did such magic here.”

“Shush,” she hissed. “It’s all just pretend. They’re pretending that we’re going a space ship and traveling through the stars. But we’re not. We’re just going to have dinner. Relax.”

The greeter waited impatiently for them to catch up to her. When they did, she continued toward the back of the restaurant where she indicated a small booth for them to sit in. Nora slid in one side and motioned to Darakin to sit on the other side.

The greeter dropped two menus on the table and said, “Your server tonight will be Mary. She’ll be with you in a minute.”

Darakin looked around the booth area. A fake window that was actually a display monitor showed stars passing as though they were actually moving. Controls for their ‘shuttle’ surrounded the window. He ran his finger over them lightly.

“Go ahead and play with them. That’s what they’re there for.” Nora reached over and pressed a button. It lit up and a small speaker played sounds that might be associated with a rocket preparing for liftoff. Darakin jumped at the sudden noise, causing Nora to laugh.

“It’s all pretend, see?” She pressed a bunch of buttons to show him that nothing bad would happen.

Darakin began pressing buttons, too, looking more like a child in a toy store than an adult in a restaurant.

“Ahem.”

They turned and saw another girl, dressed in a similar getup to the greeter standing at their table. “My name is Mary. I’ll be your flight coordinator for the evening. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Yes, please. I’ll have … we’ll both have a cola.”

“Be back in a jiffy.”

“What’s a cola?”

“It’s a carbonated beverage that we like to drink here. You’ll see.”

“And that flight coordinator thing?”

“Yep, all part of the shtick.”

“What stick?” Darakin appeared confused.

“Not stick, shtick. It comes from … oh, I see what the problem is. It comes from a different language and you only understand English. Well, it means it’s just their way of playing along with their space-travel theme thing.”

“Does your language borrow from many others?”

“Yes, it does. There’s words from German, Yiddish, French, Spanish, Italian … the list goes on. Doesn’t your native tongue?”

Darakin thought about that for a minute. “Yes. When we don’t have a word for something, we just use a word from a language that does.”

“Yep, pretty much sounds the same as what we do. Now, look at the menu and pick something.”

“Well, Mrowley wanted me to order a beef and pork dish with a side of chicken.”

Nora burst out laughing. “I’ll bet he does. Sorry, sweetie, there’s nothing like that on the menu. He’ll have to make do with whatever we bring home to him. Go ahead and read it. Ask if you don’t know what something is.”

Darakin looked at the bizarre menu. There were so many odd choices that he had no idea what he wanted to order.

Mary came back and placed a tall glass in front of him. She placed a long, paper covered item next to the glass. “Are you ready to order?”

“No, I think we need some more time,” Nora answered.

“No problem, I’ll be back in a few.”

Darakin held up the white cylinder and looked at it.

“It’s for the drink, silly. You put it in the glass and sip through it.”

“Oh.” Darakin put the straw in the drink.

“No! Oh, dear. You’re supposed to take the wrapper off first.” Nora pulled the straw out and removed the soaked paper wrapping. The she put it back in the glass. She put her own straw in and took a sip to show Darakin how it worked.

Darakin leaned forward and took a sip. He sat back in surprise as the carbonated beverage hit his tongue.

“Good, isn’t it?”

“It’s weird. I wasn’t expecting bubbles.”

“Yeah, but do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very good.”

“I thought you’d like it. Now, what have you decided on?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, what’s your favorite meat? Beef, chicken?”

“Um, I really liked that burger.”

“Well, they do have those here and I think they’re pretty good.”

“Then I’ll have one of those.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to try something different? What about …” Nora perused the menu for a minute. “Chicken wings? Do you like those?”

“Yes, I like chicken. I was afraid that the wings thing was more of the pretend flying thing here.”

Nora laughed. “Nope. Just the wings of a chicken.”

When Mary returned, Nora ordered a chicken sandwich for herself and wings for Darakin. The waitress turned to Darakin.

“You want that warp speed, honey?”

“What’s warp speed honey? Is that some kind of topping – like ketchup?”

Mary gave Darakin an odd look, but said nothing. She might think he was weird, but she was still hoping for a good tip.

Nora hurried to interject. “No! She’s asking if you want hot wings, Darakin?”