Page 10 of Sweet T

“It’s Friday night,” Shelly said. “You cook. I do dishes. Tucker waits on tables.”

“That’s every night,” said Ben.

“Tucker and I’ll switch about nine o’clock. Unless you’d like to wait on customers, Ben?”

“Hell, no. I’ll take steam and hot grease to dealing with people any day.”

The three of them had a lot in common. They were the same age, had graduated from high school together, and all still lived at home. It was a common practice in Spoon. Unless you married right out of high school, most folks either worked or continued schooling via the internet or commuting to Georgia College in neighboring Milledgeville. Ben was finishing up a marketing degree at Georgia College and already doing some freelance work with web-based clients. Shelly was getting a BA in fashion online. Tucker... well, Tucker kept money in their pockets.

“Business as usual, then,” said Tucker. “We all do what we do best. Should anyone ask, the special is Tex-Mex egg rolls with guacamole—$5.99. The Sysco guy just cut me a deal, so we’ve got extra of both. Shelly, how are you with the invoices?”

“All done. I’m getting ready to wipe down tables and make sure the condiments are full.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll put on some music to keep us motivated.”

* * *

By the time Tucker went to unlock the front and rear doors of the tavern, the storm had begun. Torrential rain was pouring down so hard they could hear it drumming on the old building’s roof. When Tucker opened the back door, the wind yanked it from his hands, slamming it into the wall loud enough to startle both Shelly and Ben.

On the other side was a tall, round man, waiting to come in. He entered, one hand on his chest, one hand lifted up and out, his wet, gray hair streaking his forehead.

“Blow, winds!” he said, his voice rising for emphasis. “Blow until your cheeks crack! Rage on, blow! Let tornadoes spew water until the steeples of our churches and the weathervanes are all drowned. Let quick sulfurous lightning, strong enough to split enormous trees, singe the white hair on my head.”

“Hey there, Sebastian,” Tucker said, handing the man a bar towel, and closing the door behind him. “Come on in. Dry off.”

Sebastian took the towel, briskly rubbed his head with it, and continued, “Let thunder flatten the spherical world, crack open all the molds from which nature forms human beings, and spill all the seeds from which ungrateful humans grow!”

“Bravo,” Shelly said, clapping. She gestured to a bar stool. “Come in and sit, good sir. Your brandy awaits.”

Sebastian combed his finger through his damp hair, pushing it back from his face. “Thank you, good lady. No ungratefuls here. Only friends.”

Shelly poured Sebastian a snifter of Christian Brothers. Tucker joined them.

“It’s getting kinda rough out there,” Tucker said. “Hope it doesn’t hurt business tonight. Fridays are good money.”

Sebastian waved. “WeatherBug says it’ll taper off in an hour. Just steady rain for the rest of the evening.”

As if the climate were contradicting him, thunder boomed, and the lights flickered.

Ben’s eyes grew large. He pointed toward the kitchen. “I’ll be in here for a while, away from the windows.”

“It’s perfect weather for what I’ve been rehearsing,” said Sebastian. “King Lear. Act three, scene two.”

Sebastian Collins was director of Spoon’s Black Sheep Community Theatre. He worked nights, putting together plays and the occasional musical review. He was always the tavern’s first customer, stopping by for supper and a brandy before heading to work. It was his ritual.

“Well, I don’t know what you were saying,” Tucker said. “But it was impressive.”

“Really? I modified it a bit. I’m trying to make it easier for the folks of Spoon to enjoy the magnificence of Shakespeare.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Have rehearsals started?” Shelly asked.

“Lord, no,” Sebastian said, his voice relaxing into his native Georgian accent. “It’s hard enough casting for Neil Simon. Elizabethan dialect is a whole ‘nuther story. Several turned out for auditions last night, though.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes. A wonderful surprise. I’m giving myself extra time with casting, though. This one’s special. Near and dear to my heart. I have plenty of women to choose from for the daughters. It’s the men that concern me. I need a good Fool to play opposite me.”

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