Hello Everyone! Again, my apologies for the late story. I had an eventful weekend. Anyway, this week's story is part (2/3) of In Vacuo. If you haven't read part one yet, you may click here to read it before continuing any further. I'll wait.... .... .... Okay? Okay. In this story, Amanda and Alex come up with their official Sugar Twin aliases (or ali?), Thaniel and Tamuald, respectively. And Amanda makes a scene in a restaurant. Throw in a little cheeky banter, and, bam! you got yourself a story. Let me know what you think in the comments section. Enjoy! -RCD In Vacuo - Part 2 Amanda takes a sip of her coffee. I purse my lips and squint my eyes as I look at her. ‘Stay Sweet,’ I say, in the same obscenely-effeminate voice from before. Phbbbbbbb! Amanda leans over to her left and spews coffee out on the floor next to her chair as she breaks out into strained, gasping laughter. ‘Jesus Christ!,' I say, as I grab the edge of the table and push myself back in my chair. ‘Get a hold of yourself!’ I turn around and look towards the cash register. No one there. I look back at Amanda. ‘Ugh. Uh man,’ she uses the side of her hand to wipe off speckles of coffee and drool from her mouth. ‘I think some of that came out my nose.’ ‘They’re going to kick us outta here,' I say, as I hand her a napkin. 'Here,’ ‘Oh, man.’ She wipes the corners of her eyes with the knuckle of her index finger and reaches over and takes the napkin from me. ‘How bad is it?,’ I say, as I push back from the table and look underneath. ‘It’s not bad,' she says, as she grabs the napkin and leans over the side of her chair. 'I got it.’ She uses the napkin to blot up the spray of light brown liquid from the floor and the wall. ‘Hey,’ she says, as she comes back up. ‘At least I was able to aim it toward the wall.’ She wads up the coffee-stained cloth with her hands and places it at the edge of the table. ‘Ha! That’s true. I, ha, I don’t know what I would've done it you just, like, spewed in my face.’ ‘Ha! Just like that.’ Amanda makes a motion with her hand like she's spraying a cone of liquid onto my face. ‘Yeah, ha! I don’t know. I think I would've just, like, sat there and taken it.’ I sit upright with my arms folded and my eyes closed. ‘I would've just, like, not moved while you cleaned it up off of my face.’ ‘Damn! You would’ve just taken in the face?’ ‘Yep! Wouldn’t even flinch. I mean, how many times in your life to do you get the opportunity to have someone just spray a mouth full of coffee, head-on, right into your face like that?’ ‘I guess that’s a good point.’ ‘Right? And, likewise, that’s another thing on my bucket list; to spray a mouthful of liquid - doesn't have to be coffee - into someone else’s face and have them just sit there and take it.’ ‘Damn. We could have each had a bucket list item crossed off just now. If only I’d not turned away and sprayed coffee in your face instead,’ to which Amanda slaps her forehead with the palm of her hand. ‘Oh well. There’s always next time.’ We continued to sip our coffee cautiously. I scan around the restaurant to find that we were the only one’s there. I think there might have been another table when we arrived but I guess they’d left. Possibly at some point during the coffee spewing scene. ‘Did I ever tell you about the, uh, about those twins that I went to school with?’ ‘No, I don’t think so.’ She holds the mug out in front of her mouth with both hands, blowing on it between sips. ‘The Wilson brothers; Nathaniel and Samuel Wilson. Well, the thing is, though, it feels weird referring them by their names like that.’ ‘How so?,’ Amanda says as she scrunches her eyebrows over her cup of coffee. ‘Well, the thing is, they had, both of them had this, like, speech impediment. It was like, kind of like a lisp, but more than that. I can’t,’ I look up to the left and shake my head. ‘I can’t think of, like, how to describe it. But, basically, I only ever knew them as Thaniel and Tamuald.’ ‘Are you serious? That’s awesome.’ ‘Yeah, I remember I used to think that they had a British accent.’ ‘Ha! Really?’ ‘Yeah, I mean, I’d been in school with them since, like, kindergarten. Maybe even preschool, so I don’t know where I thought they picked this accent up from. And I’d met their parents, neither of which had a British accent. But, I don’t know.’ I shrugged my shoulders. ‘They just talked really weird.’ ‘Huh? Maybe their parents made them watch the BBC at home?’ ‘Yeah, maybe. Anyway, I remember being in first grade with them and, uh, and they were like really into Thomas the Train and - you remember Thomas the Train, right?’ ‘Sure.’ ‘Well, yeah, they were like really into that and, like, trains in general. And I remember that they would, like, bring their Thomas the Train toys to class and sit up front in the corner by the door and just, like play with their trains and giggle and talk to each other all during class. Every now and then they would get into these really loud giggle fits and the teacher would have to quiet them down. I’m pretty sure that if they were growing up today they would be diagnosed with Asperger’s.’ ‘Damn. Whatever happened to them?’ ‘I don’t know, I --’ ‘Okay.’ The server appeared at the table with a steaming plate in each hand. ‘I have z’bacon and z’ham,’ to which she gently placed a plate of food in front of Amanda. ‘And z’sausage.’ I picked up my coffee cup and held it up to my chest as she put the other plate in front of me. ‘Awesome, thank you!’ ‘Thanks,’ Amanda said. ‘No problem. Anysing else?’ We scanned around the table and glanced over at each other’s platters. ‘Nope, I think that’s it, thanks.’ ‘Some more coffee?,' the server asks. ‘Uhhh.’ I looked down into my coffee cup. ‘Sure.’ ‘Okay, I’ll be right back.’ I looked down at my plate; at the golden mound of scrambled eggs with cheese; at the lump of crisp potato shavings; at the glistening bumpy surface of the sausage patties with the little pool of grease running out from underneath. This was it then. Another $6.99 - my food allowance for three days - and I was about to gobble it all up in one sitting. But there was something that I was thinking of earlier. Some justification. Some reason why I was okay splurging on a breakfast platter today. Ah, yes, that’s right. Yesterday’s chin-wagging session. Yes, yes I’d done well. I’d done well and this was my victory meal. Yeah I thought, as I looked down at my plate and nodded. I’ve earned these eggs. - to be continued...
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AuthorWriter. Engineer. Archives
December 2017
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