Chapter Three: Footing The Bill

Part 3

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Noelle returned with table 14’s food. This brought a wide smile to the larger officer’s face, especially the slice of pie that sagged under a scoop of ice cream the size of her fist.

His partner across the table snorted. “You realize that’s going to melt before you finish your burger, right?”

The larger officer grinned, grabbing his fork and knife with clenched fists like a toddler. “Challenge accepted.”

“The Benji Cheese Melt,” Noelle announced as she set it down in front of the much skinnier officer. “With applesauce and extra fries.”

He nodded, sitting up straight in his chair. His knife scraped on the plate as he made sure none of his food was touching. Fitting. He had ordered off the kid’s menu, after all.

“And soup and sub for the lady.” As she set them down in front of the Mnolf, Noelle could read the trepidation in her eyes. She was dressed rather professionally, but Ciphus’ immigration policies meant there was no way the woman was another Snop. By definition, she couldn’t be. At least Noelle’s probationary citizenship would graduate into full citizenship at the end of the year, but being a Snepard meant a lot more in this bulb than back in Dakotal. Citizenship in Ciphus worked differently for Mnolfs. Maybe one day, Noelle would be able to change that.

Noelle’s ears twitched as the Mnolfan woman’s stomach growled. Neither officer caught it, as the larger one was currently trying to swipe several fries from his partner’s plate.

Noelle leaned in a bit, one hand on her knee, the other hand brushing some of her own stray hair back behind her ear. “Are you sure that’s all you wanted to eat, hun?”

The Mnolf looked up to meet her gaze, then nodded. “This is sufficient.”

Noelle returned the nod. “Alright, but flag me down if you change your mind, ya hear?”

Straightening up, she brought her hands to rest on her skirt covered hips. “Anything else I can grab for y’all?”

The skinnier officer spoke up, asking for fry sauce, though he didn’t look her way. The other two said they were fine, so Noelle headed back to the kitchen.

Pushing through the swinging double doors with her shoulder, she almost ran into Jenn who was trying very hard to balance an entire order for the party of seven she was handling. “Ope, pardon me, Jenn.”

The door stopped inches from Jenn’s nose, as Noelle held it open and got out of the older waitress’ way. Thankfully, the next few words from Jenn were too low for the cook to hear, but they weren’t directed at him anyway. Noelle flinched back, as if Jenn had physically hit her with the insult.

She shook her head as she watched Jenn pass and continue out to her table. Honestly, people in Ciphus had no imagination. Everyone used the same cotton-picking word regardless of situation. Proper insults required flair. You had to know your target, then tailor it to them. The best insults were the ones you could slide under the skin; the ones that would sink in hours later, make all their fur stand on end, and leave them huffy the next day. She’d have to think of a new one to slip Jenn before end of shift.

Tucking her tail, she squeezed past where Benji’s grandson Rigel was scrubbing dishes. His normally grey hands were covered in suds that soaked the fur up to his elbows, and he scooted to the side as she passed.

Reaching the shelves where they kept the major condiments, she scanned them quickly, but didn’t see anything labeled fry sauce. “Mahandro? Table 14 wants fry sauce. Do we keep that refrigerated or something?”

Beside her, Rigel shook his head. He dripped suds on the counter as he pointed at two different bottles. “It’s a mixture of ketchup and mayo.”

An omelette sizzled behind her as Mahandro flipped it. The chef then added, “Equal parts of both. I like to add in a pinch of garlic and a pinch of paprika too. If it was Benji, he’d add three pinches of each, but you lose the other flavors when you do that.”

Noelle followed their instructions, preparing a small paper cup of the stuff. With as many shifts as she’d shared with Jenn recently, these two made working here worth it. Little Miss I’ve-Worked-Here-Twenty-Years-And-Developed-Crippling-Entitlement-Issues made a lot of people quit. Noelle would quit on her own terms, not when Jenn decided. One bad apple could spoil the basket, but only if the other apples touched it. So Noelle would just follow the other apples’ examples and cling to the basket’s sides. For now, at least.

Scooting past Rigel with fry sauce in hand, she called back to Mahandro, “That omelette sufficiently burned for table 9 yet?”

The chef snorted, reaching for several small seasoning jars. “You’re right, I forgot. Catching one on fire last week was so enlightening, I really should start doing all of them that way.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll put it out,” Rigel added from the sink, gripping the nozzle and pointing it towards the chef.

“Steamed omelette, now that’s an idea.”

Noelle grinned, pushing the doors open with her rump and stepping back into the diner’s lobby. The omelette-burning jab had been the wholesome kind of insult, the one you knew would rile a person up, but good-natured-like.  Not Jenn. Jenn would have just called the chef a Native and stormed out complaining about how every problem at Benji’s was anyone’s fault but her own. Noelle knew this from experience. Again, Jenn was ruder than a splash of cold water during a hot shower and had all the imagination of a dairy cow. She was certainly spotted like one.

Hmm, Noelle was going to have to let the cow comparison stew for a bit. Calling Jenn a cow would be funny because the woman would immediately be upset at the implication of being called fat. Problem was, if it was obvious enough for Jenn to understand in the moment, it was a poor insult. Yeah, Noelle still needed to workshop it.

Bits of table 14’s conversation drifted her way as she approached.

“You should have seen her, Leo,” the larger officer was saying around mouthfuls of food. “She was dropping bits of fur into vials, and they’d turn different colors. And she was whispering stuff while she did it, like a TV witch.”

        The Mnolfan woman tilted her head at the comparison to a witch. “We use different colors to denote what stage of the process the reaction is at. It’s a little like a litmus test, but a very specific one. The fur and skin tissue will stay in the solution for maybe two or three days before dissolving. After that, we can compare it to other samples that have been recovered before. If we combine the samples, and the solution turns green, they’re from the same person. If it turns violet, they’re from different people.”

        The skinnier officer, the one who’d been called Leo, nodded thoughtfully. He hadn’t touched anything on his plate since Noelle left, though it had been neatly divided into thirds. “I’ve heard about one of the other Bulbs trying that. Think they were able to use it to catch a cold case serial killer. Judge considered it sufficient evidence. Haven’t heard of anyone using it here in Ciphus yet though. They call it Genetic Something-or-Other.”

        “Alchemical Genetic Matching.” The Mnolf said before taking a spoonful of her soup.

Noelle walked up to the table, holding out the paper cup. “Here’s that fry sauce for you, sir.”

‘Leo’ glanced at her, then the cup, then made a spot on the table for her to set it down. He then deliberately and awkwardly stared out the window, “Thank you.”

With a sigh, Noelle set the cup of sauce down. “Anything else I can get for you folks?”

The other two at the table both looked at her with full mouths. The larger man gave an enthusiastic thumbs up as he swallowed.

“Well, if y’all need anything, just flag me down, ok?” Then she raised an eyebrow at the Mnolf. “And I do mean anything, hun.”

The woman swallowed what was in her mouth. Clearing her throat, she gave a small nod like Noelle’s old pharmacist used to. “Understood. Thank you for your time.”

“I like how you’ve done your hair,” Noelle told her. “The feather’s a nice touch. Red’s a good color on you.”

The woman blinked, tilting her head to regard Noelle. Then her hand reached up, brushing the feather with several fingertips. “--thank you.”

Noelle didn’t bother to stop the smile that came to her face. People in Ciphus really should compliment each other more often. This woman clearly wasn’t used to it.

A warm nostalgia accompanied Noelle as she left to check on another table. But her ears twitched at the conversation behind her.

“Leo, did you ignore her because I said she was cute?”

Noelle stopped where she was, ears rotating of their own accord.

“I wasn’t ignoring her.”

The howl of laughter that followed caused a number of nearby ears to turn, though Noelle was the only one who glanced back in that direction.

“I wasn’t!” ‘Leo’ insisted with a hiss. He was leaning on the table, and glanced her way. No sooner had they made eye contact, when he immediately diverted his gaze again. He turned his face to the window and muttered something Noelle couldn’t hear.

Whatever he said, the larger officer grinned. Then he stole several more fries before turning to give her a thumbs-up. Noelle smirked. According to Mahandro, these two were regulars. He’d recognized the orders right away. If that was the case, she could have a lot of fun with them...

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