story from six-word prompt
LUCKY DRAGON NOODLES
We’ve been eating here for months. They have really good noodle dishes, I like that kind of thing. I can’t say I care much for the steamed rice. They let it get empty. And cold. And you know how it sticks to the sides when it gets like that.
We were just here last Sunday, Lee and I, after church. It was a pretty good sermon, I don’t know, the young people seem to like that kind of thing. Lee certainly wasn’t paying much attention. He seemed placid enough with his first plate of food in front of him, his coat over the back of his chair. He only wanted water that time, he usually likes the tea there, it’s a nice light flavor. They gave him a coaster for his water, they never seem to give me a saucer for my tea.
He had a few things on that plate: one of those spring rolls, some green beans, a crab Rangoon, the General Tso’s with the stir-fried noodles, not the rice, I mentioned the rice isn’t very good. He had a new dish, a seafood thing with some imitation crab and little curled pieces of squid. Everything seemed fine. He poked at a squid ring with his fork. Very calm, you know Lee. He picked it up; it dangled like a rubber band, an elliptical shape, wobbling a little like rubber, you know. I thought it looked unappetizing, but I never say anything. You know Lee, he’ll try anything.
He put the squid ring in his mouth. He bit down on it. Once, twice. He started to get this confused, unhappy - I don’t know, the expression on his face, I thought he was choking, I was ready to jump out of my chair and do the Heimlich on him, when he said: “Master.”
“Lee?” I said. “Are you choking? “
“Master,” he said, “forgive me.” He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands as if he’d seen the most horrible thing.
“Honey? Forgive you for what?” I thought he left his wallet on the pew again. That certainly gets awkward, I can tell you. The man’s memory is not what it was.
He pulled the half-eaten squid ring out of his mouth and laid it gently on his plate, then began to cry quietly.
Well, you know, I had no idea what was going on. I thought it was spoiled, I was about to complain to the waiter, when Lee leapt to his feet. His water glass tipped over, waiters looked at us; I was so embarrassed. Lee wrapped his fingers around the chain of his cross, the little sterling one his niece gave him last Easter, and ripped it, broke it, flung it across the room. “I have sinned! Master! I have betrayed the Elder Gods!” he groaned. He stared again in horror at his plate. “The young ones - partaken of their flesh - O Master, forgive!” he sobbed. A family at a distant table began to gather their things and leave.
I said, “Lee, what is the matter with you? Sit down and finish your lunch before it gets cold!” He stared at me as if he was in this terrible anguish, I’ve never seen anything like it, something seemed to control his mouth, his lips looked like that squid ring. He snarled at me! He snarled, “In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming! Master, I come to serve you!” He tore his coat off the back of his chair and threw it over his shoulders like a weird kind of cloak or something, and bounded out of the restaurant.
I was almost finished anyway, and what with the mess on the table, I thought it best to pay quietly and leave, after that.
I can’t say I haven’t seen him since. This was last Sunday, as I said, and just yesterday I did notice him perched on the Wiltons' garage, muttering curses at schoolchildren as they got off the bus.
I just don’t know, some days. I just don’t know.
But the noodles here really are excellent, don’t you think?
We’ve been eating here for months. They have really good noodle dishes, I like that kind of thing. I can’t say I care much for the steamed rice. They let it get empty. And cold. And you know how it sticks to the sides when it gets like that.
We were just here last Sunday, Lee and I, after church. It was a pretty good sermon, I don’t know, the young people seem to like that kind of thing. Lee certainly wasn’t paying much attention. He seemed placid enough with his first plate of food in front of him, his coat over the back of his chair. He only wanted water that time, he usually likes the tea there, it’s a nice light flavor. They gave him a coaster for his water, they never seem to give me a saucer for my tea.
He had a few things on that plate: one of those spring rolls, some green beans, a crab Rangoon, the General Tso’s with the stir-fried noodles, not the rice, I mentioned the rice isn’t very good. He had a new dish, a seafood thing with some imitation crab and little curled pieces of squid. Everything seemed fine. He poked at a squid ring with his fork. Very calm, you know Lee. He picked it up; it dangled like a rubber band, an elliptical shape, wobbling a little like rubber, you know. I thought it looked unappetizing, but I never say anything. You know Lee, he’ll try anything.
He put the squid ring in his mouth. He bit down on it. Once, twice. He started to get this confused, unhappy - I don’t know, the expression on his face, I thought he was choking, I was ready to jump out of my chair and do the Heimlich on him, when he said: “Master.”
“Lee?” I said. “Are you choking? “
“Master,” he said, “forgive me.” He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands as if he’d seen the most horrible thing.
“Honey? Forgive you for what?” I thought he left his wallet on the pew again. That certainly gets awkward, I can tell you. The man’s memory is not what it was.
He pulled the half-eaten squid ring out of his mouth and laid it gently on his plate, then began to cry quietly.
Well, you know, I had no idea what was going on. I thought it was spoiled, I was about to complain to the waiter, when Lee leapt to his feet. His water glass tipped over, waiters looked at us; I was so embarrassed. Lee wrapped his fingers around the chain of his cross, the little sterling one his niece gave him last Easter, and ripped it, broke it, flung it across the room. “I have sinned! Master! I have betrayed the Elder Gods!” he groaned. He stared again in horror at his plate. “The young ones - partaken of their flesh - O Master, forgive!” he sobbed. A family at a distant table began to gather their things and leave.
I said, “Lee, what is the matter with you? Sit down and finish your lunch before it gets cold!” He stared at me as if he was in this terrible anguish, I’ve never seen anything like it, something seemed to control his mouth, his lips looked like that squid ring. He snarled at me! He snarled, “In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming! Master, I come to serve you!” He tore his coat off the back of his chair and threw it over his shoulders like a weird kind of cloak or something, and bounded out of the restaurant.
I was almost finished anyway, and what with the mess on the table, I thought it best to pay quietly and leave, after that.
I can’t say I haven’t seen him since. This was last Sunday, as I said, and just yesterday I did notice him perched on the Wiltons' garage, muttering curses at schoolchildren as they got off the bus.
I just don’t know, some days. I just don’t know.
But the noodles here really are excellent, don’t you think?