The Pike: Ships In The Night (8 page)

I stood there for ten long heartbeats, amazed at the feeling and the world around me that I didn't take the time to acknowledge as much as I knew I should.  I thought of the woman beside me and that strange fluttering sensation returned in my guts.  Just great, I didn't need to get sick now.  I was... enjoying the serenity.

Then I opened my eyes when she touched my arm.  I looked at her, and she was smiling broadly as she pointed.  A few hundred yards away was a solitary killer whale, breaching and pacing the ship.  Dad had shown me the pods before, and they fascinated me.  I know it is irrational and illogical, but this single whale seemed so alone to me.

Unlike the others I saw in their pod who seemed playful, this one seemed to be following to break out of its solitary existence, to share its life with fellow beings so that it knew that it wasn't alone in the world.  I felt that way from time to time.  My chest ached, and I didn't know why.

The whale breached again and huffed, sending a spray of water from its blowhole.  I almost waved to it.  I didn't even know if it could see me, or if it were even looking at the ferry.  I smiled sadly then looked up at the woman who seemed to be studying me intently.  Her brow furrowed and her eyes slightly narrowed, as if in question.

I looked down at my hands and started wringing them as I said quietly, “She looks so alone out there.”

She turned to look at me, to the whale again, then she assured me, “Well, if that's so, then for at least now, she has us.”

I smiled at that thought.  It was true, that at least for this ride across the Sound we were kindred spirits, the whale and us.  That thought actually eased the pressure I felt on my chest a little.

It really was something, now wasn't it?  Anything above nothing is infinitely greater than zero.  I nodded at her and then we just stood there in silence, in the chilly air, with our passing companion, sharing our existence.

It was like time had dilated in some manner, because before I knew it, we were docking in Bremerton.  I looked back to see the whale heading back through the narrows to the open waters of the Sound again.  I was happy to have been her companion if just for that short time.

I glanced at Allison and felt awkward again, I was terrible at social interaction.  “Sorry for not engaging in conversation.  I found the ride over to be peaceful and took the time for personal introspection.”

She shrugged and looked down to where the cars started exiting the ferry.  I heard restrained humor in her voice as she said, “Just say it was nice, Liya.”

My face warmed, and I said in a small voice, “It was nice.”

Then she motioned her head toward the stairs. “Great.  Let's get land-side.”

I followed her to the stairs where she watched the people streaming out of the passenger deck as they headed down.  Once the last of them were out.  She winked at me and laid her arms on the banisters and then just fell forward.

My breath caught, and I took a rapid step forward and then exhaled in relief as I watched her sliding down the railings to land on the lower deck.  She looked back up at me, and I caught myself smiling as I walked down the stairs to join her.

She seemed playful to me as she disappeared down the next flight just as I arrived on the landing.  I made my way down to her, and she walked me out onto the dock where she said, “I'll see you on the boat tomorrow?”

I blurted before my mind could catch up to me, “Do you live here in Bremerton?”

She shook her head. “No, Liya, I live in Gig Harbor.  I hop the bus just over there.”

Gig Harbor?  Then why did she take the ferry?  Wouldn't it be more efficient to drive or take the bus from Gig Harbor into the city, it would cut approximately thirty percent from her time.  “Why do you take the ferry then?”

She chuckled,. “I just showed you why.”

Oh.  I thought about it.  She enjoyed the serenity and the majesty as she put it.

Then I was speaking again before I could stop myself, “Do you like Filipino cuisine?”  Why did I keep talking?  It was as if I didn't want her to leave.

She cocked an eyebrow at that and said, “I don't know that I have ever had any.”

I looked at my hands then pointed over at the little strip mall on the next block, where mom's restaurant was, and offered, “My mom owns Kusina Ni Tala just there.  Let me buy you dinner as a thank you for returning my calculations, Allison.”

How could I say no when she asked so cutely?  I really liked it when she said my name, though I preferred Sparky or... I supplied, “Allie.  And sure, I'd be delighted.”

She nodded then led the way to the little strip mall to the place that had the hand written 'Island Cuisine' sign on the window, which I saw her go into the prior day.  I was about to ask her about it when she paused, with an almost distressed look on her face.

She pulled out her cell and looked at it.  I asked, “What is it?”

She looked almost embarrassed as she said, “I arrive at the restaurant at six forty each day.”  Then she tried to explain. “It is my daily routine.  I... It's just how I work.”

I nodded, understanding.  She didn't want things to change, she felt safe in her structured world.  Most of us have a bit of obsessive compulsiveness, and I think for someone who thinks all the time like her, the less she needs to divert her attention, the more time she can spend on the things she believes are most important, like her calculations.  Wasn't Albert Einstein a bit like that too?

I echoed her, “Six forty each day?”

She scrunched up her face. “Well, each day is a misnomer and doesn't represent a complete nor accurate data set.  It is actually five days a week, Monday through Friday.  I was generalizing, because... why am I babbling?”

I tried hard not to smile at her earnestness.  I just held up my free hand. “By all means, babble away, it's cute.”

She blushed, and it looked really good on her Pacific Island complexion.

She glanced at her cell, and her head bobbed in a countdown, then she smiled up at me as it showed six forty and started for the door.  I reached over her head as we arrived at the door, and held it open for her.  She almost scurried in under my arm.

I stepped in behind her and looked around.  It was pretty spartan, with a few mismatched booths along the walls and three long tables in the center of the dining space.  There was a cash register at a small counter by the door.

A woman who was clearing away some dishes at one of the booths brightened visibly when she looked up to see us.  Her brown eyes were so big and familiar, she just had to be Liya's mother.

She wiped her hands on her apron and stepped up to us quickly as many of the customers turned to look at us.  Well maybe not us, they had their eyes on me, like I was intruding upon their space or something.  I sort of felt like I was.

The woman said, “Ligaya, ang aking magandang Anak.”

Liya seemed to shrink and blush, taking on the mannerisms of someone much younger than she was, as she nervously tucked some hair behind her ear and looked down. “Mooom, English.  I have a guest.”  Then she asked in an even smaller voice, “Mano po?”  She then took the hand her mother offered and pressed the back of it to her forehead.  I was fascinated by the greeting.

The older woman then said in English, “God bless you, child.”  Liya seemed to relax a bit.

With that, the woman swung her eyes to me, studying me, first locking eyes with me, then my cane, then she took in everything else about me.  It only took a moment, but I felt as if she saw far more about me than I was strictly comfortable with.

She looked at her daughter and asked, “And who is your friend?”

Liya brightened and said, “Mom, this is Allison...”  She trailed off and looked at me. “You never did supply your last name.”

I winked at her and turned to her mother, offering my hand. “Fraiser, Allison Fraiser ma'am.”

She put her small hand in mine, I noted just how small and delicate it was, I glanced at Liya's, and they looked small and slim as well.  Then the woman said, “Lilibeth.  But you can call me Lili dear.”  She cocked her head before she released my hand. “Allison Fraiser, why does that name sound familiar?”

Shit.  I let go of Lili’s hand, I didn't need anyone recognizing me.  I hated being in the spotlight after the accident.  For the first few weeks, it seemed like I'd never get my privacy back as the media insisted on sticking their noses into my life and sharing it with the world.

There's nothing like seeing headlines scrolling on the television from my hospital bed, “Gay firefighter in critical condition.”

They were more interested in spreading my sexual preferences all over the news than remembering the fact that I was a person who almost lost my life, and had a name.  Needless to say, I have a burning hate for the media that can never be extinguished.

I said, “There are lots of Fraisers in the greater Seattle area ma'am.”

She squinted an eye in warning, and I cocked my head in apology. “Lili.”

Liya explained, “She found some of my calculations I had inadvertently misplaced and returned them to me at the University.  I offered to buy her dinner to thank her.”

The woman again studied me with a different intensity, like she was determining if I were worthy of her daughter's friendship.  I felt sort of exposed.  Then she nodded and said to her daughter, “Of course.  I'll meet you in the kitchen in a moment, I have to clear the booths, and take some orders.  Lisa didn't show for work again, I'm afraid she isn't returning.”  She let out a sigh.

I stepped up and placed a hand on the tub she was placing dirty dishes in.  “Here let me do that Lili, go ahead and take those orders.”

She looked a little shocked then she just smiled and inclined her head then moved off to another booth where some people were waiting.  I turned and froze, Liya was just staring at me with a cute smile, filled with wonder.  I melted a little.

I grinned at her, pushed up my sleeves, and handed her my cane.  She took it timidly, and I said, “See you in the kitchen.”

She said, “You don't...”

I stopped her. “Happy to help.  Besides, it still beats sitting at home in front of the TV just lazing about.”  I liked feeling useful and helping people out, it was what I had dedicated my life to doing before...

She took one step backward toward the swinging door I assumed went to the kitchen and then turned and walked toward it.  I piled the dishes into the tub and limped over to one of the tables in the middle of the dining area and cleared it too as I glanced around.

I noted that with the exception of one man, all of the customers looked Filipino like Liya and her mother.  A couple people were eating their meals with their fingers.  I remember one of the men from the Five had vacationed in the Philippines, and he noted that it was common practice in the Filipino culture to eat with either their fingers or a fork.

I limped into the kitchen, backing through the door with the dishes.  I glanced around the immaculately clean kitchen and grinned at Liya who was spraying dishes in the huge stainless steel sink off to one side.  I set the tub beside the sink with the other dirty dishes.  There was quite a pile stacked up.

I smiled at the bashful-looking girl and then I looked around and narrowed my eyes. “Aren't there any other employees?  Your mother is doing everything herself?”

She shook her head as I started scraping the leftovers from dishes into the trash can beside the sink. “When she can afford it, she usually has one helper, but she can only afford to pay minimum wage so the turnover rate is high.  Her last helper, Lisa, hasn't shown up this week.”

I shook my head.  Her mother was busting her ass, running the entire restaurant single-handedly?  I just stepped in to help wash the dishes.  The least I could do was to help get things ship shape if the ladies were going to feed me.

I started dunking dishes into the hot soapy water and bumped her hip, and she slid over and started drying dishes as I handed them to her, then she placed them on the stacks by the large cooktop and giant steamer of rice.

Her mother stepped in and then paused and smiled at us when she saw what we were doing, She had a couple order slips in her hands, but she paused and narrowed her eyes at me.  I followed her gaze.

Shit!  I forgot.  I pulled one sleeve down over the mass of burn scars on my left arm.  She muttered to herself like she was trying to recall a memory, “Allison Fraiser.”  She shook her head and went about preparing the orders with deft efficiency.

I went back to washing, then had to glance over at Liya when I realized that she had to have seen my arm the whole time, but she never reacted, never said a word, never stared, like it was just normal.

We caught up in no time, and I made another trip out to the dining area to clear away another table as the customers left.  When I returned, Lili pointed a ladle at me and then to the little table in the corner which Liya was sitting at.  She said, “Sit.”

Eeep!  I sat, and she grinned smugly and brought over two plates of food and set them in front of us.  The smells in the kitchen had been driving me crazy, but now with the scintillating aromas so close, rising from the plates, I had to blush in embarrassment when my stomach growled loudly.

The elder woman chuckled at me, and I looked at the offered bounty.  It was some sort of a beef and vegetable dish on a bed of rice, slathered with a thin looking gravy.  I glanced at the door then Liya as I pondered how I was supposed to eat it.  I didn't want to insult the women.

Liya just said in a small voice, “Thank you, mom,”

She picked up a fork and dug in.  I swear it was a cue meant for me.  I picked up a fork and said, “Thank you Lili.”  Ok, this was just as good as the culinary masterpieces the sisters throw together at the Pike.  It was so simple yet so savory.

I had to compliment her, “This is amazing Mrs. Hannigan.”

She waved me off and rolled her eyes, chirping almost playfully, “It's just pinoy beefsteak, Allie.  Eat.”

Who was I to not accept a command to eat the mouthwatering food she offered?  My momma didn't raise a fool.  I may have inhaled the food on the plate.  Such a burden to keep the peace.  Mmmm.  I have to say, I was quite impressed when Liya finished and almost polished her plate clean before I was three-quarters of the way done.

It was at that point I realized we still hadn't had a chance to talk.  We had been working since we got here and then the food was too good to let sit on the plates while we spoke.  So I asked with a sly smile, “Must have been hell growing up with your mother being such a good cook.”

She tilted her head and said as she regarded me, “I do not prescribe to the concept of hell.  There is no data nor empirical evidence to suggest that it exists.  Though if you subscribe to the infinite parallel universes and infinite realities theories, then one could offer the argument that in one of them, hell must exist.”

Then she paused, her mouth open as she aborted her reply that had me grinning at her.  “Ah.  I understand.  It was meant as a clever use of a negative to enforce a positive.”  Then she giggled for a moment and nodded with mock seriousness. “It was such hell.”  Then she added, “You are a surprising source of constant amusement.”

I saw Mrs. Hannigan almost smirking as she worked on preparing dishes for the dining room while pretending not to eavesdrop on us.  She was worse than her daughter.  I shook my head at the two.  Then I asked, “So what was it like growing up in a restaurant?”

She started to say she didn't grow up in a restaurant, but then I could see her reason through what I was asking.  It was interesting to see her go through her thought processes.  She took everything literally, and she parsed and processed it all with almost machinelike logic.  I don't know why, but I found her fascinating... I mean the process fascinating.

Then she started to open up, it looked almost like she were sorting through all of her memories to tell me the most relevant details.  I placed a hand on her arm to get her attention. “Not the facts, just the feelings.”

She blushed and looked down and admitted, “I'm not really good with identifying feelings.  I don't always understand my feelings as there is no context for them and they can't be quantified with any logical constructs.”

I thought for a moment and rephrased my question. “Did you have a happy childhood?  I see the way you act around your mom, and it seems you love her a lot.”

She brightened like the sun and smiled with excitement, it was such an amazing transformation. “Yes, I know I love my parents.  I try to make them happy and make them proud of me.  They are so patient with me.”  Then she looked embarrassed as she admitted, “I know I'm not like other girls.”

I removed my hand from her arm and said with surety, “That's a good thing.  Why would you want to be the same as everyone else when it is obvious you were born to stand out?”

Her blush was adorable.  Right on cue, her mother stepped back into the kitchen, her eyes were laser focused on us.  It was my turn to blush, it was plain to see she was eavesdropping.  She turned to her cooking and looked a little frantic and said, “Things are picking up out there Liya.”

The cute Einstein nodded and stood up to retrieve the tub to bus the tables.  I watched her go out then stepped up to Lili as I took the pad and pen from the counter beside her.  “I have some waitressing skills from putting myself through college.  Allow me.”

I gave her a wink, and she smiled at me as I snagged my cane from beside the swinging door and made my way out.  For the next forty minutes, I felt young again as I fell into a familiar routine from before my time with the SFD.

A couple times Liya came hustling over when I was writing up bills.  For one elderly man who looked to be off the streets, she just placed her hand on the pad and shook her head at me.  I blinked then she turned to the man and said something in Tagalog, then asked, “Mano po?”