…
The dishes they had ordered finally arrived, bringing with it an irresistible, mouthwatering aroma that left El dazed from how enticingly good the smell was.
'Is this, heaven?'
Looking at the white plate, El felt like going through a rollercoaster of emotions. He recalled a memory where he collected a plate in his village, although it was already in pieces. He once tried to glue it together with sap from a tree that grew around the village, albeit proved unsuccessful. The plate in front of him, however, was whole, intact, and exquisitely white. It also clean.
On the plate, there lay a dish with a generous portion of meat, from which hot steam was still drifting above.
Meat was a food he had tried only once when a group of mercenaries visited the village and stayed in the place provided by the villagers. When they promised to take him and another small child, who were the only two kids left in the village; after completing their job, three days later, only the decapitated head of one of the group members was returned, found by one of the villagers while looking for food in the forest.
The others were probably dead.
"Is this meat? Can I really eat this?" El inquired hesitantly. He didn't want anyone to suffer or die simply just because of it. And he sure doesn't have money to pay for this.
'Stealing? Well, the meat looks hot though, wonder how I could hide it. The jacket seems to be new too.'
"Yes, of course. You may eat it. There are other dishes that will be coming shortly. Eat your fill…" the man said, placing his mask inside his jacket pocket.
"Okay... thank you. By the way, sir, your way of speaking is really hard to understand. Took me a second for that. I'm not quite at that level yet"
"Hmmm, really. I guess I'll continue using it so you will become familiar with it later. How about you? You seem to unwittingly know what I mean? The dialect. You even use it..."
"Ah, I learned it from books and from a certain mercenary who once visited the village. He said this is how people in the city and the underground speak. I can't really fully grasp his way of speaking though. It's confusing..."
"I see... Why haven't you eaten it yet?"
"Uh… I. I once read in a book that people in the city are eating with these, spoon, ummmm, fork, and knife, isn't it? The elders in the village said that it would be rude if I were to use my hands in the city."
"Then use it!!? If you don't know how to use it, I'll demonstrate it to you. Here, like this. And like this. And you lifted it like this. And done. Easy right?" the man said that, demonstrating to El how to use the utensils, while chewing on his food.
"But I am a villager. I'm not someone born in the city. I'm not supposed to use what people in the city use in front of them. Can we maybe, take it home. I heard it was possible," El says that awkwardly. Feeling embarrassed.
"Where did you even hear that?" the man frowned from El's explanation.
"Uh, one of the elders in the village."
"Nonsense. There is no difference between people in the city and in the village."
Opening his mouth in surprise, El responded, "Really? But why is our life in the village so hard compared to the people that lives in the city?" he asked that with perplexity and pure innocence.
Hearing that, the man abruptly froze in his seat with a spoon still in his mouth.
Pull the spoon away, chewing slowly then swallowed it hard, he replied, "It was because... life, I guess."
"Life?" El tilted his head. His eyes reflecting that of genuine curiosity behind it. No malice nor resentment.
Almost choked on his own food, the man then proceeds to say, "Life, is unpredictable. Sometimes it's going low. Sometimes it's going high. No one could get a clear grasp on it. Everyone is different. Who, when and how they are born and growing up – circumstances surrounding them. It was filled with. Unfairness," the more he said, somehow the more composed he became. Until what's left is only a pair of deep blue eyes, locking gaze with El's emerald eyes.
'What the heck was that?' knitted his eyebrows, thinking hard about what the man said, El spoke while scratching the side of his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand."
"It's fine. You will understand it one day. Perhaps soon. Grow up some more kid."
"Okay. So, I will use this then," he had already observed how the people used it at the other tables while waiting. And as someone who was a quick learner, El learned how to use the fork and knife on the first try. 'It's easy.'
Upon tasting it, El's eyes lit up with pleasure. It felt as though his taste buds had finally reached an oasis after all this time being stranded on a dry sand dune for so long. And like a drought welcoming the rainy days, his thirst was finally quenched. His body shivered from the intense stimulation. He resisted the urge to use his hand to grab and gobble the food.
'This was,'
"This was the best food I ever had… it's really good," with bulging cheeks from stuffing the food as quickly and as much as possible, El still managed to get a pause and asking the man a question.
"What, what is the name of this food sir?"
"That dish is called hanger steak with their special herb sauce. One of the many signature dishes of this small, yet the most famous restaurant in Mirthwater."
*Cough*
Noticing someone coughing and obviously approaching their table under the shade of the parasol, El turned to the direction of the sound where it comes from. And it was an old man, with white hair (had some shiny bald spots on top of his head), a hunched back, hands rested on his back, and the most noteworthy one was, his mean face (I'm sorry grandpa, didn't mean it).
"It's been so long since the last time you visit…" the old man stated with a shaky and breathy voice. But soon, his words cut off by the man.
"Cough… old man…" the man eyeing the old man, who were called Tigo, giving a secret signal with only his eyes.
Quickly catching on to what the man trying to convey to him, old Tigo nodded his head. "I see. They are on your tail huh. How about the kid?" he asked, turning to El, then ended up staring at him in an intense way.
Feeling the gaze, El slowed down his eating, then nodded shyly with the corner of his eyes peeking at the old man.
"We talk later Tigo. Don't want the kid to hear about it," the man said casually with a homies tone as if they had known each other for years.
"Alright," he said. With difficulty, the old man's eyes peeled away from El.
Truthfully, El felt uncomfortable under the old man's scrutinizing gaze. He wondered why, yet there was a tingling sensation in his gut and instinct – traveling mystifyingly up and down his spine – telling him obliquely that not only was the old man dangerous, but he was also looking at him with inquisitiveness and...
Evil intention.
'They seem to be close. Should I, warn him about it?'
Hesitating at first, El leaned closer to the table and, in an almost whisper, asked the man a question regardless, "That old man. Who is he, sir?"
"Ah, don't mind him. Just an old acquaintance," noticing El's raised eyebrows that expressed puzzlement, the man continued. "I mean, he was an acquaintance of my late father. But I treat him like a friend now."
"Oh, I see."
…