Cantine

I sat down heavily in the cantine. There were plenty of empty tables, even in the evening, even that day. Only a few were under the shade though, and the handful of us all sat at those few tables. So, we were apart but together. Everyone who wanted a table of their own had it, but there were two young men sharing their food together. 

“You’re going to love it here, and you’re going to love this.” said one to the other. His companion was very tall and had the wrong hair to be really local, eagerly took the offered food. 

“Didn’t think I’d want to, but just being here, what else would I do?” said the companion. 

“You’re lucky you know me.” said the first man. “Because I know the chef. This is how the locals eat it, not toned down for the tourists.” 

I was facing away from them, and I think they had their backs to me, but the man in front of me must have seen them, because he looked up. However the foreign man reacted, the man in front of me thought it was funny. 

“Seems rude.” said one of the men loudly. I fought the urge to look very intently at my phone. 

The man in front of me gestured his surrender with his hands, and doubled his attention on his meal. As soon as he finished, he got up and left the cantine. 

The two foreign men, or the foreign man and his friend I think, left shortle after that. “Outstanding” said one. “And you got the true local cantine experience.” said the other. They laughed. The first responded “I was surprised-” but then they were gone. 

There were only two of us then. Two of us, and a dozen or so hoping to serve food. They waited mostly. There was room for twice as many servers and hundreds of us eating, but it might as well have been closed.

One of them, the hopefuls, came and sat at my table. I was startled. “Don’t you need to watch your stall?” I asked. 

“I can see it from here.” he said. I didn’t know what to say to that. “Are you hungry?” he asked. 

“No.” I said. It was a lie. 

He was old, and he wore a conservative cut in his clothes, but they weren’t neat. A work uniform maybe. 

“I haven’t seen you in here before.” he said. My blood ran faster at that, but he kept talking. “Mostly everyone who can eats at the strip, and anyone who can’t eats at home. So, if you want to eat here, I’ll feed you well. I haven’t got any other customers to distract me anymore.” 

I sighed. “Yeah, I’d like that.” and I started feeling around in my pocket for change. 

He smiled and waved a hand. “Don’t worry about paying me. My boss doesn’t. What do you want to eat?” That startled me.

“What do you mean your boss doesn’t pay you?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “He wouldn’t make any money. Not much comes in.” 

“Why do you work?” I asked 

He grinned. “It feeds me. And I’m used to it. It’s not hard.” 

I stared at him. He seemed happy, and that surprised me. “I haven’t had noodles in a long time that didn’t come out of a packet.” I said, shyly. That made him laugh. 

“Won’t take long.” he said. He went back to his stall in the wall of the cantine, wrote up an order ticket, clipped it to a string on the ceiling, and set about making the noodles. I know for a fact that the meat he added would have cost extra. When he was done, he took the ticket down, tore it in half, and stuck one half to the bowl and the other half on an empty steel spike on the counter. 

He came back and set the bowl in front of me and asked “What’s your name?” 

I hesitated. “Eren.” I said. 

“I’m Donnie.” he said with a grin. “Enjoy the noodles Eren.” I did. 

Then, the policemen came in. 

There were two of them. They walked in slowly, but they were sweating. They hadn’t drawn their guns, but they were armed. I remember that. They spoke to one of the venders at the far end of the cantine quietly. I focused on my food, but I could tell from my peripheral vision that he’d gestured towards our end of the space.

One of the policemen came to me, and the other one spoke with the only other remaining customer. I tried to act a little surprised. As he approached, I tried to muster up a reasonable response, but it stuck in my throat. He addressed me first. 

“Hello, I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, but it’s very urgent. Have you seen anyone come in here in the past hour?” he asked me. 

I didn’t gulp. “I didn’t get here that long ago.” I said. I kept my hands motionless on my bowl. 

The officer nodded. “Where were you before that?” he asked. 

“Work.” I said. It was the truth, and it came easy. 

The officer shifted his weight, and I held onto my bowl as tightly as I could to keep from flinching. “Where do you work?” he asked. 

“Construction.” I said. “I was on the Steele job around the corner.” 

“Do you come here often?” asked the officer. That startled me. 

Then, Donnie shouted “He’s my best customer!” The officer turned to face Donnie, surprised. “You’d better not be harassing my best customer.” he said with a scowl. 

The officer left me then, and spoke to Donnie for several minutes. Afterward, they both left. 

 “It must be about that bombing.” said the other customer, after the police were gone. I looked at him, and he shook his head. “I’m just glad I wasn’t there.” he said. Then he threw away his trey, and he left. 

In response to that, Donnie closed the shutter over his stall, shaking his head. “Well shit, I’m going to go hug my grandkids.” he said. As he passed me on the way out, he smiled. “See you tomorrow, Eren.” I nodded at him. 

I was alone there.