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.
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