Page 31 of Captain Santiago and the Sky Dome Waitress
The sudden silence falling over the entire restaurant made Lucie turn away from the customer whose order she was taking, and check to see what had happened.
Sona Shearer stood just inside the slowly shutting glass doors, looking around for a table.
Lucie’s heart lurched. She squeezed her order pad.
Shearer looked toward the kitchen. Olivette was peering through the serving slot, her bruised eyes very wide.
The tankball player nodded, as if they were friends, then strolled over to a table where a couple were just getting to their feet.
Actually, many people were hastily chugging back their coffee or gobbling down quick mouthfuls as they rose. The thin stream of customers heading for the glass doors made Lucie’s middle squeeze.
The table Shearer was sitting at was one of Lucie’s. Lucie stood frozen for what felt like a small eon of time. There was nothing that would get her out of this. Olivette had not pressed charges. No one could order Shearer out of the restaurant. Lucie couldn’t even call her a thief and order her out, becausesomeone had paid her breakfast bill the day after the stomping incident. Shearer was entitled to eat breakfast. There was nothing Lucie could use to refuse service.
There was no way around it. Lucie would have to get close to her and serve her.
Lucie gripped her pad and swallowed. Her feet felt enormously heavy as she made her way around the half wall and along the row of small two-people tables to where Shearer sat watching her approach.
Shearer was smiling.
“What can I get for you today?” Lucie asked.
Shearer’s smile grew even broader. “The usual.”
Lucie could hear her heart thudding in her ears. It muffled all other sounds. But the restaurant was very nearly silent, anyway. Was everyone listening?
“I don’t know what your usual is. You’ll have to tell me,” Lucie made herself say.
Fury flooded Shearer’s face. It was an instant change, as if the woman had thrown a switch. Her features flushed redly and she straightened up. “What do you mean,you don’t know what I want?” Shearer spoke in a loud voice that carried to every corner of the restaurant.
Lucie quailed. Inside, she could feel herself shrinking, and every muscle in her body wanted to move her back away from the table. But she was too afraid to move. She was frozen on the spot.
That just left talking. She could talk. She swallowed, trying to work some spit into her mouth so that she could speak. “If you will just tell me this once, next time, I will have it memorized.” She realized she had automatically lifted the ordering pad to punch in the order.
Shearer slapped the table, hard enough to make everything on it bounce and rattle.
Lucie flinched.
“What sort of a stupid restaurant is this?” Shearer screamed. “You don’t know myorder! Go ask your stupid cow of a boss back there! Iwantmy breakfast.Now!”
“I’ll order our medium breakfast platter.” It was difficult to speak, because her throat was squeezed in and her chest was locked.
“Idon’t want the stupid platter!” Shearer shouted, raising her hand.
Lucie would have scurried backward, out of the way, but for her frozen legs.
Is she going to hit me? The question formed on top of the chaotic gibbering her brain was producing.
A memory surfaced. Elijah’s voice. Causing any bodily harm to anyone in the city will terminate your residency.
Wouldn’t the people whoorderedthe act also have to pay the same penalty?
The question barely formed in Lucie’s head before she acted. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin and spoke directly to Shearer in a firm voice that wouldn’t reach nearly as far as Shearer’s shouting, but everyone nearby would hear it. “You need to calm down and speak civilly. Tell me what you would like and I will get the order started.”
Shearer’s face turned deep red. She swore, in a long deep exhale, that sounded more like the growl of a predator.
All the fine hairs on the back of Lucie’s neck stood up with a sharp prickling sensation. She lifted her hand, and extended her finger. Her hand shook. She wagged the finger. “Tsk. Tsk. That’s not the language we like here. Let me get you a coffee. You clearly need the restorative.”
Around and behind her, Lucie could hear the collective indrawn breath of everyone watching.
