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.
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