Atlantis ~ The Memento Mei Series

3• Sinking into the Skye

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I sigh in boredom as I wait for the last customer to leave for the night. There's always that one asshole who comes in five minutes before closing and decides to work on their college paper for a bit in the cafe. Maroon already left after we got the front said and done, but the bakers in the back are still cleaning up. There's dishes clattering as they work on tomorrow's batch of pastries and water sloshing as the dishes are tossed in the tub to wash. I'd help, but I just got the key ring spinning on my finger just right.

"Fucking Marc," says good ole Joe as he storms through the double swinging doors. Joe is a grumbly old bastard with dark earthen skin who is close to the top of the list of people I like. He's always silently snarling at everything in his line of sight, grumbling like a pissy bear, and letting me slip a sip or two of vodka from his personal flask when we work together. Both of us like to take smoke breaks around back, cussing Marc out in private. He's the only one besides Maroon who won't tattle to Marc about my questionable life choices.
"Better to die happy if you're probably gonna die anyways," as he always says.

Joe gets it. He's got liver disease that's progressing like a bitch. He's always telling me how his wife nags him about his drinking with his condition, much like Marc nags me for smoking with mine when he catches me.

I lean back in the bar stool with my ankles crossed on top of the bar. I smirk, " What'd he do this time?"
Joe slaps a hand towel down on the mop bucket and holds out a muffin that looks like it's been lost behind the fridge for a minute. I wrinkle my nose, "What the hell is that?"

He snarks out, " This is he 'latest' catastrophic creation - the Trollfin."
It's so quiet in the cafe as my mind tries to digest what I just heard, I swear I can hear crickets.
Finally I get out a droll repetition, " Trollfin?"

Joe spits on the floor, glowering down at the vile pastry with disgust, " Yeah, my sentiment exactly."
"Do I even want to know?"
"Not if you plan to eat tonight, ya don't."

"Ahhhh!"
Both of us jump in our skins, heads jerking over to the freezer door where the scream came from. We share at look when it goes silent. Joe puts his finger to his lips, grabs the mop, and eases on over towards the freezer door. I watch blandly, not planning on moving even if a zombie pops out. Before he gets too close, the freezer door bursts open and a hippie chick in an ankle length flower-child dress stumbles out in a fit of delirious giggles. Marc comes out right behind her, chuckling while buckling his belt. One guess what they were doing. He holds his hand up for the keys as they head towards the door and I half ass toss them to him. He sees the lone straggler, claps his hands, and announces, " Closing up, honey! Get a move on!"

The hippie and asshole flee the scene politely while Marc locks the door behind them. The phone rings just as Joe violently spears the mop back into the bucket, cursing Marc under his breath. I maintain a cool eye contact with Marc as I pick it up and don't miss a beat, " Weiland's Hoedown. You wanna freak her, we got the freezer."