"The Colossus' Glass" Diner Scene: Part Four

 Benjamin took the bite, leaned back and tried to swallow as fast as he could without chewing. While inwardly he was bracing himself for whatever sting his mouth may have to endure, outwardly he put on a smile as though he were enjoying a bite of warm chocolate cake.

Gulp. “Wow, those are so good.” Benjamin forced a smile.

“Are they now?” Crispin grinned knowingly with his eyebrows raised in anticipation. “Alright then. Jenny, would you be so kind as to fetch Oliver for me. I believe his shift is almost over and I may require his assistance momentarily.”

To Benjamin’s surprise, he felt fine. He felt nothing, actually, no burning in his mouth, only a smoky-sweet flavor. “Why do you need his help?” Benjamin asked.

“I don’t, actually.” Crispin replied, studying Benjamin’s face amusedly. “You do.”

“I do?” Benjamin asked. Jenny hurried off to the kitchen with a sigh. “Why do I nee--?” Benjamin stopped short, noticing that as each syllable poured from his mouth, so did a small puff of smoke. Before he could try to understand this, however, his vision began to blur and go yellow. His hearing, too, became muffled, as though he had water in his ears. He noticed beads of sweat had begun to form on his brow, and then beneath his eyes, and then in his armpits, and his feet. Then, it hit him.

“WATER!!!!”

“Oh dear.” Crispin sighed.

Angus heard Benjamin scramble for his ice water, and felt half of it splash up onto his arm as Benjamin tried to pour it all in one gulp down his throat. “Don’t worry, now.” Crispin spoke calmly over Benjamin’s seething breaths. “You’re in no danger.”

As Benjamin slammed Angus’s and Crispin’s glasses of water, Angus heard two pairs of feet approach the table. The first, which he figured were Jenny’s, were quiet and could hardly be heard over the second, which were spaced out much farther apart, and made a deep THUMP with each fall.

“A delicious breakfast as per usual, Oliver,” Crispin said to whatever large thing had just made its way to the table. “Though I’m afraid young Benjamin here didn’t exactly enjoy his sample.”

Oliver Gasped. “Oh no!” Angus was shocked that he both heard and felt Oliver’s voice, which was perhaps the deepest Angus had ever heard. “Has he—“

“Not yet.” Crispin replied.

“WATER!!!!!!!”

Jenny walked away to help another table, and Angus heard her sigh “Men…”

“Has he what?” Angus asked, his worried voice betraying to Crispin the growing concern for his brother’s well-being. “Is he going to be ok?”

“He’ll stop smoking in a moment—“

“He’s smoking?!”

“—And then he’ll go into shock.”

“SHOCK?!”

“WATER!!!!!!!!!!” Benjamin thrashed around, trying to reach for a glass of water in the booth behind them, but then stopped as he turned back around, dropping the water.

“Oop,” Crispin said. “here we go.”

Angus felt Benjamin slowly slide downward in the booth, pause for a moment, let out a sleepy-sounding groan, and flop onto the floor.

“Ben?” Angus waited for a response.

"The Colossus' Glass" Diner Scene: Part Three

Angus and Benjamin enjoyed a moment of silent inner relief, Benjamin letting out an audible sigh, while Crispin lit his pipe.

“I daresay you’ve found him! Though depending on who you expect ‘him’ to be, it may or may not be me at all. Time will tell, I suppose.” His eyes glimmered at Benjamin as he paused to take his first billowing puff of the bittersweet-smelling tobacco. “So, traveled a good distance, you say? Whereabouts are you gentlemen from?”

“Jenningston,” Angus replied.

“Well, what’s left of it.” Benjamin added flatly under his breath.

“Jenningston! Hmm, I haven’t been through Jenningston in… now let me see here… “ He took another long drag on his pipe as he counted in his head. “…Well, a very, very long time.” He chuckled to himself. “From what I’ve heard it has become quite the booming little metropolis in the recent past. Well, that is, until--“ He paused mid-sentence, looking across the table.

As he spoke again, his voice lowered, and his next words struck Angus as deeply sincere, almost fatherly. “Well, there is nothing quite so disheartening as the loss of one’s home, is there? I am sorry.”

At this, Crispin set his pipe alongside his plate. “But do you know what I’ve always found to be an island of anchored hope in the midst of calamitous grief?” He picked up his fork. “Breakfast!” Just as another of the peppers on his plate burst into a tiny flame, he scooped it up and, blowing out the flame, took a large bite, eyes closed in blissful enjoyment.

The boys picked up their forks and continued to eat, not sure where the conversation would go from here. Once you’ve found your medicine man, what were you supposed to do with him? Were you to ask for healing? Or wait for him to offer? Would he perform some miraculous healing right there in the middle of the diner? Would he invite them into his… healing chambers?

Angus grew nervous again. “So those peppers you mentioned,” he said, “why won’t other places serve them? Are they too hot or something?”

Just then, Jenny returned to the table. Benjamin’s ears went pink under his shaggy dark brown hair. He didn’t look up.

“Oh, Jenny,” Crispin said, “Our young friend here would like to know if these peppers are hot.”

“Reapers?” Jenny laughed. “Well, let me put it this way. There are only two people I know who can even stand to touch the things. Crispin here, he gets them every day, and Oliver.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “He’s our dishwasher. He brings them in from his garden at home. They’re not even on our menu. Our cook has to wear a mask and rubber gloves just to cook them. We wouldn’t do it for anyone else,” she smiled. “Just Crispin.”

“And I am so thankful you do.” Crispin beamed back with a smile.

Angus felt Benjamin shift in the booth and clear his throat. “They couldn’t be that bad, though, could they?” Benjamin said, in a voice that Angus thought sounded unnaturally lower than his usual tone. “Could I try one, sir?”

“Ben, no.“ Angus saw what was coming. He knew his brother all too well. Rash, impulsive, though well meaning and deeply caring, Benjamin wasn’t one to think things through. He had once thought he heard a man hurling insults at their sister from inside the next door neighbor’s house. Before anyone could stop him, he had ripped off the screen and pried the locked window open with his bare hands. As it turned out, it was an old woman’s radio dramas playing at high volume.

Hoping to thwart what he knew would come next, Angus interjected. “He was just kidding, sir.”

“Oh, come on! Just a bite. I can take it. I mean, I love hot stuff.”

“Ahh, Benjamin, is it?” Jenny cut in. “They’re really strong, I’m not sure you’d--.”

But Benjamin was reaching his fork across the table. Angus felt him move and reached over to try to stop him. It was too late.

"The Colossus' Glass" Diner Scene: Part Two

**NOTE: The main character's name has changed. Because it sucked before. "Shawn" is now "Angus".**

She just pointed at me! She looked over here and pointed at me!” Benjamin quietly panicked. “Dah! She’s coming over here. Act cool, act cool!” Jenny’s footsteps got closer and stopped at their table.

“HELLO,” Benjamin said a little too loudly, startling both Angus and Jenny, and perhaps himself.

“Uh, hi. The gentleman in the corner wanted me to let you two know that, uh, you shooould… ask him something?” Jenny struggled to remember, “and then get on with your day? Something like that. I don’t know, I think he wants to talk to you.”

“Sure,” Angus replied, “Thank you very much.” He heard her walk away and the kitchen door swing open and shut.

Benjamin was breathing heavily.

 “Wow… how could he hear us? We were practically whispering.” They were now faced with the prospect of approaching a potentially powerful old man who knew they’d been talking about him and who may or may not be quite unhappy about it. Angus took a deep breath. “Okay, I guess this is it. Want to lead me over there? I’ll do the talking.”

With another glance back toward the kitchen door, Benjamin stood up, collected his ice water in one hand and placed the other under Angus’s forearm to guide him.

“Why are we walking so slowly?” Angus asked.

“I’m nervous!” Benjamin whispered. “If it really is him, I- well, I’ve never talked to a medicine man before, what if he doesn’t like us disrupting his breakfast? He’s got powers, you know! He can… do stuff!” Their steps were still short and slow, like an old woman shuffling along in her slippers to nowhere in particular. “And if it isn’t him I’m going to look like an idiot in front of that waitress!”

“Not sure you can help that, pal.”

“Shut up or I’ll walk you into a wall.”

They finally reached the corner booth and stopped, but before they could introduce themselves, the old man, without looking up from his paper, said, “I do hope you like omelets.” Benjamin noticed that there were three plates set at the booth, each with a fresh, steaming omelet. There was a long pause as Benjamin waited for Angus to respond. “…Is that a no to the omelets, then?”

Benjamin elbowed Angus. “What?” Angus whispered.

“I thought you were going to do the talking!” Benjamin hissed under his breath.

“I will, just keep walking.” Angus had no idea they were now standing directly in front of the old man’s booth. “Wait, was he talking to us about the omelets just now?” Angus reached his hand forward and unexpectedly banged it on the table. Completely taken off guard, and feeling suddenly put on the spot, he stammered, “Oh! Hi! Hi there. Omelets, yes! Who doesn’t like omelets? Ha! I know I do! I mean, we do. We both do. A lot. Both of us. Uhhh…” He gulped hard. “Why do you ask, sir?”

The old man replied slowly, “Well, I’m certainly not going to eat all three…”

“There are three plates on his table,” Benjamin whispered in Angus’s ear.

“It’s true,” whispered the old man, leaning forward and including himself in their failed private conversation, “And you’re welcome to sit down and eat two of them. Though I think I’ll have the third, if you don’t mind.” He winked at Benjamin under his great brown-rimmed glasses and went back to his newspaper.

Benjamin let out a little nervous laugh as Angus’s hand found its way onto the booth seat. He slid into the booth as far as he could, until he was directly across from the sound of the rustling newspaper. Benjamin followed.

Both waited for the old man to speak first, or at least to look up from the comics section.

Finally Angus broke the silence. Nervous and dry-mouthed, he cleared his throat. “They smell delicious.”

“Just a moment, please.” He continued reading his newspaper. “Almost finished.” Benjamin and Angus sat motionless, now even more nervous to disturb the old stranger, and quite aware of the fact that they had already trespassed into his booth.

The moment felt like ages.

With one last snicker and a sigh of contentedness, the man folded his newspaper, set it on the table beside his plate, and continued, as though there had been no pause at all. “Yes! Yes, they are delicious. And the peppers here are always quite fresh.”

Benjamin looked down at his steaming omelet, which was covered in a thick layer of gooey cheddar cheese and bright green jalapenos. Then he looked across the table at the old man’s plate. Instead of the familiar green pepper, however, his was topped with a strange purplish-grey pepper. The eggs had char marks surrounding each little bit of the unfamiliar produce. As Benjamin stared, one of them suddenly burst into a tiny flame, like a trick birthday candle.

 “They’re very rare, these.” The old man patted out the little flame with the back of his fork. “And rather abrasive to more delicate pallets, I might add. It’s called the Capsicum Flamora, though locally I believe it’s called by The Reaper.”

Benjamin, still so nervous that he couldn’t find words for a reply, simply said, “Oh…. Mmmm.”

“Yes, ’Mmmm’ indeed. Well, dig in while they’re hot.” Angus reached his hand up to the table and felt for a fork next to his warm plate. He was still getting used to eating blindly, and an omelet was no easy task, especially with a nervously shaking hand. He found that the first bite he scooped up was far too big, and half of it fell into his lap. Embarrassed, he quickly grabbed the bits that had fallen and placed them on his napkin.

“My dear boy,” said the old man in a surprisingly warm tone, “you must be new to the world of the sightless. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir. Quite new.” Angus froze for a moment while he considered what to say, and decided this was as good a time as any to plunge right into the matter. “Sir, my name is Angus Olgram, and this is my brother, Benjamin. We traveled a good long ways to get here, because…” He gulped hard, set his fork back on the table and took a deep breath, “…because we were told we could find a medicine man here, a healer by the name of Crispin. Might that be…you?”

The old man's deep brown eyes darted quickly over to Benjamin, then panned slowly back toward Angus. The man scratched at his beard and leaned back. He pulled out a long dark wooden tobacco pipe without for a moment taking his eyes off of the boys.

The boys hung on the unbearable silence of the moment as though what came next would decided their existential fate.

Finally he raised his large grey eyebrows, shrugged his broad, slender shoulders and said,

“Tadaaa!”

"The Colossus' Glass" Diner Scene: Part One

What does he look like?”

“He’s wearing a tropical shirt, button-up. He looks like a tourist.”

“Do you think it’s him?”

“I don’t know. I mean, it could be, but really anyone could be for all we know.” Benjamin did his best to relay the important details about the physical appearance of the old man in the corner booth, clear across the diner from where they sat. “He’s wearing khaki cargo shorts with big puffy pockets. He’s got a grey beard, kind of wiry, it reaches all the way down to the table. He has a cane leaning against the end of his booth. He’s reading a newspaper. He keeps smirking. I think he’s-” Benjamin strained his eyes to see. “Yep, he’s reading the funnies.”

Over the clinking of forks on plates and the murmur of the dozen-or-so others in the diner, Angus could hear the old man snicker out loud every now and then. As he listened, he tried to piece together a picture of the old man, combining the details from Benjamin’s description with his pre-conceived image of a powerful forest-dwelling medicine man. “What’s he eating?”

“He’s just got a cup of coffee or tea or something, that’s all.” Benjamin looked around the diner, then leaned over the table and said in a lower voice, “I’m not sure it’s him. Someone that powerful would probably have more important things to do than read the funnies and sip coffee, don’t you think? Or at least he’d hang out somewhere a little more… upscale? This place is kind of a dump. Looks like the back room of an antique shop with a lazy manager.”

Benjamin was referring to the décor of the small-town diner. On the walls were old news clippings, photos of forgotten old women smiling under their bonnets at the camera, or of old men proudly holding up fishing line dangling strange looking fish. There were also various mounted animal heads here and there, some of which were new to Benjamin.

“They’ve got something mounted over the table next to us. It’s got the snout and tusks of a boar, but the rest of the face looks more like a lizard. Like a bearded dragon or something.” Benjamin caught the waitress as she passed. “Excuse me, miss? Do you know what kind of—“ He stopped, seeming almost to swallow his next words. Angus wondered what was wrong. “Uh, what kind of…animal… thing that, uhhh, thing is?”

“Up there? That’s a drabbergoard snake head,” she said absently, hurrying off to bring a fresh pot to the corner booth.

“Oh! Ha! Thanks!” Benjamin half shouted after her, sounding a little unhinged.

Angus’s ears, which had grown keener since losing his sight, picked up the exchange as the waitress filled the cup in front of the man in the corner booth. “Oh, thank you Jenny.” The old man had a British accent. “Say, how’s your mum, by the way? I do hope she’s on the mend.”

“Oh, yes sir, I think she’ll be back at work by Wednesday or Thursday.” Jenny said, in a much more familiar and relaxed tone than she’d used with Benjamin.

“Dear lord…” Benjamin said as Angus was straining to listen across the room. “She is beautiful.” Now Benjamin’s awkward fumbling made sense to Angus. “Dark hair, big eyes, glasses-“

“Shush for a second!” Angus was trying to hear their conversation.

“Those eggs should be done by now. I’ll go check. Be right back.” Jenny told the man. Angus heard her footsteps pass by again heading toward the kitchen. He heard the rustling of newspaper and, after a moment, another snicker from the corner booth.

“So which of us is going to ask him?” Angus asked.

“She’s gorgeous.” Benjamin was facing toward the kitchen.

“Come on, man, we’re not here for that.

“Sorry.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to him, but I’ll need you to walk me over there, obviously.” Angus hadn’t thought of this part. How did he approach the subject? Hey, sooo, I’m blind and wondered if you have the power to heal me? No. Definitely not. How about, Someone told us we could find a medicine man here. Is that you? Are you him? Is… him… you?

“What do we have to lose, really?” Benjamin said. “I mean, if it’s not him, we just apologize and come sit down again, order some pancakes.”

Angus heard Jenny pass by again, and could smell that she carried a hot omelet with fresh pungent spices and peppers, which stung his nostrils. “It’s got to be him. They said he came in every Wednesday at 7am, sat in the corner, read the paper, left at 9-” Just then he heard the old man’s voice and cut his own sentence short.

“Thank you, Jenny! Looks delicious, as per usual. Say, Jenny, on your way back to the kitchen, could you tell those two young men nearest the door that they ought to ask me already and get on with their day?”

Angus’s heart stopped.

"The Colossus' Glass" The Last Thing He Saw

“I remember the last thing I saw before I went blind. It was one of the Colossus, a massive herculean giant, fifty feet tall, hoisting a great lens up over his head in the burning orange of the setting sun. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, frozen in awe, or maybe fear, I can’t say now which was stronger. He stood higher than most of the buildings of our city, and his face was sullen, emotionless, unmoved by the mayhem and destruction he would reap by obeying the commands of his director. He just hoisted to his shoulder the large monocle-like glass the size of a small parachute, wreathed in gold and tungsten, and turned it slowly in a circle. As he turned the glass it focused the rays of the sun on anything in its gaze. Churches burst into flame. Playgrounds melted to boiling molten puddles. Rows of houses, entire city blocks, shriveled and shrank into the earth under a glowing furious heat. I watched from the hill. I couldn’t move. Those who remained in the streets turned and fled. They were the wise ones. Yes, I am lucky to have lived, to have lost only my sight, but foolish to have stayed. As the Colossus’ beam turned the corner toward me, he faltered. He lost his grip on the glass. And I stared too long. As he adjusted his hands, each one the size of a small car, on the edges of the glass, it quickly jerked and swept past me. In a way, it swept through me. I did not erupt into flames. I did not melt. I did not char. With a great white flare, the light reached the back of my mind and stayed. And then there was nothing. Which is exactly what I have seen since that day. Nothing.”