The Fountain Pen

Tonight I barely managed my 2,000 word goal. In doing so I am now 13,000 words away from the finish line! That seems like a manageable amount. However, I am now certain the story will not conclude at 50,000 words. We shall see.

Tonight we find Joe on that promised date, only it doesn’t go quite as expected. Enjoy!

“So what do we do, just walk up there and ask it nicely if it knows anything?” Joe asked in all seriousness.

“That would be difficult to do, since the building is closed,” Ignatius pointed out. “We only need to enlist the aid of someone who is in regular contact with the gold man.”

“Do you have someone in mind?” Joe asked.

Ignatius looked at Katrina. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do.”

Katarina looked back at Ignatius, “If you are thinking of me you are sadly mistaken. I am not in regular communication with the gold man.”

“No. I was thinking of the Guardian.”

“Ah,” Katarina said, nodding. “Of course.”

“Great! Let’s go find Mortimer and ask him to ask the gold man about this binding,” Joe said enthusiastically.

“It’s not a simple as that, I’m afraid,” Katarina said.

“Why not? He’s helped me before. Besides he did promise to help, didn’t he?”

Katarina nodded. “But he doesn’t answer to any one person’s beck and call. If he is truly needed he will show up.”

“I should think he is needed,” Joe said matter-of-factly.

Ignatius cleared his throat. “I was under the distinct impression there was at least one way for you to get a message to him Katarina.”

“Yes. I can get a message to him.”

“So why don’t you?” Joe asked.

“I already have.”

Joe blinked. “When?”

“When it became clear we needed information from the gold man,” she said primly.

Joe scratched his head. “Well what did he say?”

Katarina smiled at him. “It doesn’t quite work like that.” She glanced at her watch. “But I believe that he’ll join us for dinner shortly.” Katarina gave Joe a meaningful look.

By the time the three of them arrived at McGrath’s there was already a line of people out the door. The place was packed. Joe looked nervously at his watch, then up at the sky and its dwindling daylight. Time was running out on him, and he was now standing in line to have a leisurely sit down meal with a woman he hardly knew. He began to tap his foot with nervous impatience.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Katarina asked Joe conspiratorially.

Joe flinched. “Isn’t this the right place?”

Katarina laughed. “Of course it is. But what are you doing out here?” Joe gave her a blank look. “Go inside and see if she’s already go a table for you,” she chided.

“Oh. Right,” Joe said feeling quite silly for not thinking of that. He was used to being the one sitting at the table waiting. He was quite disoriented now that the roles had been reversed. He stepped out of line, and with a few “pardon me” and “excuse me” and some tight squeezing he made his way to the hostess. Explaining that he was meeting a young woman the hostess offered to let him walk around to see if she was already here.

Joe wandered through the restaurant unsure of himself. Part of him did not want to find Amanda, hoping he could back out and instead skip dinner altogether and get home that much sooner. Another part of him hoped he would find he waiting for him at the next table, looking ravishing and eagerly waiting his company. He got his wish. She was seated at a table for two, quietly reading the menu. Joe didn’t know how she did it, but she had found time to exchange her work uniform for the proverbial little black dress. Joe felt shabby by comparison, which combined with his present disorientation and nervousness served to further push him well outside his comfort zone.

Taking a deep breath, and attempting to smooth the creases in his shirt, he walked boldly to the table. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” he said, as he pulled out the chair and sat down.

The menu fell to the table and Joe was treated with a look of surprise and shock bordering on indignation. Finally recognition dawned. “Joe was it? What are you doing here?”

Joe’s face drained of all color. He’d picked the wrong table. Hurrying to stand up he apologized, “I’m so sorry. Your sister told me to meet her here. I must have picked the wrong table. Excuse me.”

“Wait,” she gently commanded. “You were told to come here at this time?”

Joe nodded. “I’m sorry to have confused the two of you again. I’ll just go find her table and be out of your hair.”

“No. Sit. You won’t find anyone else here that looks like me. Please sit,” Shelly said with grace and dignity.

“I don’t want to intrude. Obviously you have a prior engagement.”

“Nonsense. I’m not waiting for anyone. Join me. Someone obviously went to some trouble to arrange this. There’s no reason why we cannot have dinner together.”

“Are you sure?” Joe said hoping to get out of this debacle. “You don’t have to be kind on my account. You didn’t come here to be accosted by some stranger and forced to share a meal with him.”

“Who said anything about being forced? I’m offering. And besides,” she said with knowing grin, “who is to say I didn’t come here expecting a stranger to join me?”

Joe sat down feeling even more uncomfortable. He couldn’t decide which was worse, having Amanda set him up like this, or having Shelly not care.

“I recommend the halibut,” Shelly offered as Joe picked up his menu, “though the salmon is quite good as well.”

Joe studied the menu, taking the opportunity to hide behind it and collect himself. No sooner had he decided what to eat than a waitress came by to take their orders. Suddenly he was sitting face-to-face with Shelly, without a menu to hold between them. He felt vulnerable and exposed, an altogether new feeling for him when it came to dinner with attractive women. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mortimer wave at someone near the front of the restaurant. It became apparent that Katarina, Ignatius, and Mortimer would be dining together without him. Inwardly he cursed his luck, wishing rather to be further discussing his plight.

“Who was it exactly that told you to meet here?” Shelly’s asked, reeling him into an awareness that she was looking intently at him, sizing him up.

Joe, mouth suddenly dry, reached for his glass of water, and swallowing a mouthful croaked out a feeble, “Amanda.”

“Amanda again?” Shelly mused. “Tell me about her.”

“Pardon?” Joe exclaimed, confused.

“Tell me about Amanda. What’s she like?”

“Don’t you know?” Joe asked brows furrowed. “She’s your sister, right?”

“I want to hear your perspective.”

Joe stalled, taking a drink of water. Clearing his throat he said, “Well, she’s quite attractive, but you know that, being twins and all.”

“So we’re twins are we?” Shelly asked lifting an eyebrow.

Joe fidgeted in his chair clearly not knowing where this conversation was going, nor why. Flustered he continued, “She’s forward. She likes to speak her mind, and I gather that she’s not used to being turned down. Though, with her body I can see why,” Joe said, then blushed realizing too late he was also commenting about Shelly. “Um, I really don’t know much else about her.”

Shelly smiled, seemingly undisturbed by Joe’s comments one way or the other. “Where did you meet her?” she asked leaning forward over the table. A faint smile played upon her lips as she noticed Joe’s gaze waver.

Joe nervously swallowed another sip of water as he realized Shelly caught him looking where he probably shouldn’t have. “The bus station,” he said, looking into Shelly’s face, meeting her intense gaze and working hard not to look away.

“The bus station?” Shelly repeated.

“Yeah. The, uh, Greyhound bus depot.”

“I see. And what was she doing there exactly?”

“Working of course. She helped me — well tried to help me — catch a bus out of town.”

“And since we are having diner together I gather that didn’t work out so well for you. Let me guess, she wanted you to stay?”

Joe nodded, “Yes. But to her credit it wasn’t her fault I wasn’t able to get a bus.”

“Wasn’t it?” Shelly asked, reaching for her water.

“Well … no. She got me a ticket on a bus headed to Boise, but it broke down and was rerouted. Why? What do you mean?”

Shelly set her water glass down, a faint lipstick print recording the occasion. “If, as you say, Amanda gets her way, and she wanted you to remain in Salem, don’t you find it a little bit convenient that you were not able to catch a bus?”

Joe looked puzzled and reviewed the details of that morning’s encounter in his head. “No,” he said slowly. “I’m pretty sure it was all just a coincidence.”

“Hmm,” was all Shelly said.

“Do you know something about your sister that I should know about?” Joe asked concernedly.

When Shelly smiled Joe got the impression she was hiding something. Just then their food arrived, and Joe realized how hungry he truly was. Their conversation came to a halt as they began eating.

“A word of caution, Joe,” Shelly said between bites, “Amanda isn’t what she seems to be.”

Joe swallowed his bite of food, nearly choking on it. “What do you mean?” Thoughts of Amanda turning out to be some exotic creature from a fairy tale flooded his mind.

“Be careful around her. Her motives are not always pure, and as I’m sure you’ve already notice she likes to toy with people.”

Joe ate in silence for a while, contemplating this news. Finally, at a loss with what to do he posed a question, “What do you suggest I do, ignore her? She’s quite persuasive. Besides, I was given counsel by someone who knows Amanda to show up anyway.”

“Who counseled you?” Shelly asked, her interest piqued.

“A woman by the name of Katarina. She’s a friend of Mortimer.”

Shelly nodded, “I know her well. What did she say exactly?”

Joe paused, recalling the conversation, “She said I should show up, and that Amanda was not someone that I should cross, and that she does not like being stood up. I got the impression Katarina considers Amanda to be dangerous.” Shelly fell silent, deep in thought, the bite on her fork forgotten, hovering between the plate and her mouth. “Something wrong?” Joe asked.

Shelly looked at Joe, then finished her bite. “No, not exactly. Katarina is a wise woman, and not often wrong. Heed her advice. And Joe, if you can, avoid Amanda.”

Joe looked questioningly at Shelly then nodded in agreement. “One question though, if Amanda is not to be trusted, and if she’s dangerous, I have to ask: is it a bad thing that we had dinner together?”

Shelly looked at him curiously. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, it seems to me Amanda’s real aim here was to get me to dine with you, which we’ve done. If she’s not an ally then what harm was done? And if she is an ally what good was done?”

Shelly smiled. “Are you familiar with the Norse god Loki?”

“Loki? Wasn’t he a mischievous god or something?”

Shelly smiled, “You get my meaning then. Amanda may have aims orthogonal to your plight.”

“You think she has her own goals in this?”

“I think she’s always playing her own game. She may alternately help and hinder you. Just be wary, and do not trust her.”

Finishing his dinner Joe asked one more question, “So what do you think her aims were in getting us together tonight?”

Shelly set her empty water glass down. “I don’t know. Perhaps merely as a distraction.” She paused and considered, “Perhaps she hoped to prevent me from meeting someone else tonight. Who knows?” Shelly shrugged.

Joe rankled at the thought that he was there only to prevent Shelly from meeting someone else. He clenched his jaw in frustration and embarrassment. “So there was someone else you were going to meet with tonight?” he said as calmly as he could.

Shelly looked surprised. “Not to my knowledge.” Looking at Joe she realized he felt slighted. “I often go to dinner alone, but rarely dine alone. Usually the people who need to find me do, and we talk.” Joe relaxed a little. Shelly reached across the table and laid her hand on Joe’s. “As far as I am concerned we were meant to dine tonight, despite Amanda’s plans.”

Joe nodded, soothed by her gracious words. “At least let me pay for the dinner,” Joe offered when the check arrived. “It is the least I can do.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Shelly said snatching the bill away from Joe. “You were my guest. Besides, you have bigger issues to concern yourself with,” she nodded her heard toward Mortimer’s table where Joe saw them leaving their table and walking toward him. “I do believe you are needed.”

Joe got up to leave. “Thank you for the dinner,” he said politely.

Shelly reached up, grabbed his hand, and looking him in the eyes said, “Good luck to you Joe.”