Tastes
Change
“I
honestly don’t know if we’ll be able to keep it open through the
summer,”
Darren mused.
Darren
and Mildred were like two eyes in their sockets - securely fastened to
a single
brain and comfortable with the fact that each and every movement was
made in
tandem. And they’d been that way ever since they fell in love and
married over
fifty years ago. Most couples at this point in their marriage bickered
incessantly,
we need new drapes, no we don’t, the meat grinder needs polishing, no
it
doesn’t, and so on. Not Darren and Mildred. They shared a bond few do,
one that
brought them together and kept their relationship simple, pure, and
strong as
sinew.
It
was
on a study abroad excursion right after the war that they met. Darren
was from
Massachusetts, a junior at Harvard Divinity School. Mildred was a
sophomore Ag
major at Texas A&M. Both were from well to do families; one had
to be to
afford sea travel to the Pitcairn Islands. The Islands were slowly
becoming
depopulated to the point where the local government thought it prudent
to start
an outreach program to encourage migration and investment from
outlanders.
Hosting rich students from America seemed like a logical first step.
The
small sign at the end of the ship’s egress ramp read “Ready for
Something New?”
All the other students immediately made their way to the receiving
center,
which doubled as the library. Darren and Mildred, at this point only
acquaintances made on the long sea journey, remained behind, transfixed
on the hand-painted
sign.
“Ay,
you
kids ‘ungry?” came the man’s voice beneath a stained, used to be bone
white,
ball cap just as his bobber plunged beneath the surface of the water.
He wound
the reel a few times, half-heartedly, but the bobber popped back up in
a few
seconds. He didn’t bother to check if the bait was still on the hook.
No one
knew the Captain’s real name, but he was friendly, evidently very
wealthy by
local standards, and owned most of the boats on the island. So everyone
called
him simply The Captain.
“As
a
matter of fact I am,” said Darren. “The food aboard ship is horrible.
Nothing
but vegetables.”
Mildred
shook her head in agreement, “I noticed that too, all vegetables, and a
little
bit of seafood. Gad how boring.”
Within
a
few minutes they were aboard the Captain’s boat, ocean spray drenching
them, as
they made their way toward Dulcie Island. Yelling over the grind of the
engines
he proceeded to educate them regarding their destination, supposedly
uninhabited, and the adventures ahead. Darren and Mildred were eager
students,
and without conscious effort grew closer as they listened, even holding
hands
at one point without realizing it. By the time they arrived, both knew
their
study abroad programs were at an end. They had signed up looking for a
change
from their stead, practically predestined lives. They had found it, and
each
other.
*
* *
“Would
it hurt to change the menu just a little bit?” Mildred said as she ran
her
wrinkled fingers through Darren’s white hair. He just stared out the
diner’s dusty
pane window as he slowly stirred his dark rich beverage. It was late
afternoon,
usually their busiest time of day. Yet today the diner was empty save
one young
couple on the other side of the room apparently only interested in the
free
Wi-Fi. So Darren and Mildred just relaxed in the booth, musing over
days gone
by.
“It
used
to bring me such pride, to watch guests as they fawned over my latest
chef’s
special,” Darren reminisced. “Do you remember how I’d work for weeks to
create
something special, to honor the character and memory of a dish?”
“I
do,
fondly.” The young couple had left by now without ordering.
“Now
we’re lucky if we can sell a bowl of nail chips.” Darren took a sip
from his
mug and nodded in the direction of where the couple had been seated.
“And this,
we used to bottle it and sell it by the gallon.” Indeed, bootleg sales
of ‘Kefir
of the Gods’ had been responsible for much of the word of mouth
popularity of
their diner.
Darren
banged his hand on the table, rattling the unused silverware, and said,
“Nowadays
all they want is bloody skin and brains. My god they’re savages!”
Mildred
just looked on with a mix of love and sadness. “You know the problem
don’t
you?”
“Yes
I
know. On my trip to America last summer, it became as plain as the cut
on my
nose on my face... goddamned zombies.”
“Everybody
wants to be a zombie. Do you serve brains here? Can I get a glass of
blood?”
Mildred feigned. “And then they giggle amongst themselves as they flash
their
fancy credit cards. It really makes a mockery of something divine. It’s
a real
shame.”
“Yes
it
is Mildred, so what do we do?”
Mildred
walked behind the counter and shuffled around under the cash register.
She came
back and tossed a pamphlet down in front of Darren. She scooched him in
and sat
beside him, placing her arms around his shoulders.
“Remember
the wooden sign, where we met, really met, after getting off that study
abroad
ship?”
Darren
nodded and snuggled deeper into her arms.
“Maybe
it’s time for a new adventure. Sure we’re old coots now, but what drew
us together
back then? Remember what the Captain said to us that first night we
took over
the diner?”
Darren
thought back to the gnarled old man. It did not seem like fifty years
since the
Captain truly became part of his and Mildred’s own being and soul.
“I
remember.
He said ‘Immortality is the greatest adventure, and long pig its
gateway.’ Damn
it Mildred, the Captain was right. What has all our fine dining been
for if not
to prepare us for new adventures?”
A
big
smile came to Mildred’s face. She pointed to the pamphlet and read
aloud, “It
says right here, Franchise Opportunities Available.”
“That
settles it!” Darren beamed as he and Mildred got up and headed for the
door.
“Get the boat ready Mil, I’ll get the money. The bank and the library
should
still be open by the time we get there. I can deposit the money while
you make
the phone call.”
And
so
they began a new chapter in their already long and happy marriage.
Within one
year they’d remodeled their diner, reworked the menu, and were busier
than ever
as word of mouth spread the news - the South Pacific now had its very
own Zombieteria.
