Lunch Table

“Are you sure this is safe?”, Robby asked as Jake took his seat across the table from him.

Jake scooted in his chair and picked up his spoon with his right hand. He looked silently at Rob for a moment before leaning forward and taking a deep breath over his bowl, letting the delicious, steamy fragrance fill his nostrils.

“I’ve never seen any negative side effects from it.”, Jake finally muttered.

“I think Dave would disagree with you on that”, Rob stated, not in a friendly tone.

The men sat across from each other at a small dining table set in front of the only window that let light into the efficiency apartment. Even though it was mid-day, the billowing clouds outside cast shadows over the entire apartment building in eerie shapes and sizes.

Jake raised his eyebrows a bit and shrugged his shoulders. “How was I supposed to know he’d be allergic to shrimp?”

Jake plunged his spoon into the bowl and leaned forward to catch it on the way up to his mouth, slurping the broth before eating the little bits of food left on behind on the spoon, huddled together in a clump.

Robby looked down at the contents of his bowl, carefully studying each morsel and chopped vegetable in turn, as if he would suddenly see the one that would trigger the “effect”.

Jake was several spoonfuls into his bowl by now and wasn’t showing any negative side effects. Robby let out a deep sigh and picked up his spoon, still staring at the bowl, the steam flowing upward and dancing in front of his face.

Jake looked at Robby, annoyed, as he swallowed the food he barely chewed.

“You don’t have a lot of time Robby; you better get on with it. They’re probably close by now.”

Robby didn’t respond. He took another deep breath and then shoved the first spoonful of the stew into his mouth and began to chew.

The stew was delicious, bursting with flavor. The meat was tender and juice, each vegetable was flavorful and had rich textures, complimenting the tenderness of the meat. It was the best meal he’d had in ages, and he was grateful for it. It could be the last meal he ever has.

They ate in silence for what seemed like hours but was closer to 20 minutes. Finished and full, they both sat back in their chairs and let out satisfied breaths at each other. Jake broke the silence with muffled words as he picked his teeth with a cloth napkin.

“So, what’d you think? Not bad eh?”

Robby nodded his agreement as he cleaned his hands on his own napkin. “Yup, not bad at all actually. Now what?”

Jake smiled and stood up, picking up their bowls and dropping them off in the sink as he moved to refrigerator at the far end of the small kitchen. He came back to the table with a frosty bottle of vodka and two glass tumblers.

“Now we drink,” he said, as he set the glasses down and opened the bottle.

Jake poured them each a half glass of vodka and handed one to Robby, clinking them together and half-heartedly raising it in front of him before bringing his glass to his lips and dumping the vodka into his mouth and down his throat in a single pass.

He let out a slight hiss and set his glass back on the table where the bowl had sat previously. He looked across the table to Robby with slightly watery eyes. Robby still held his glass in his right hand, it felt heavy, heavier than it should.

He swirled the vodka around in the glass for a second and felt the warmth of his hand seeping through the glass into the coldness of the liquid. He looked back at Jake, who had now slumped back into his chair, his eyes were glossy and red now.

Robby lifted his glass just inches of the table toward Jake and said “salud!” then raised the glass to his lips.

An explosion behind him destroyed the door and sent splintered wood and glass fragments flying through the small apartment. The blast knocked the men out of their chairs and towards the window and Robby’s glass of vodka showered them both and spread all over the table.

Somehow, Jake had fallen out of his chair and slumped on the floor behind the table, but Robby was still seated in his.

The only sound he could perceive was the intense high-pitched ringing in his ears as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Before he had a chance to do so, 4 armed men dressed in tactical gear came pouring into the apartment and searching for any occupants.

Robby still sat in his chair, watching the men run into the living room and aiming guns toward him. Everything was in slow motion and there was still no sound.

He suddenly felt a pain in his back that made him jerk and stand up from his chair. One of the armed men aimed his rifle at Robby and fired a single shot. Robby could see the gun fire in slow motion, the trigger being pulled, the burst of fire from the muzzle of the gun, the bullet slowly emerging and spinning through the air, the wake of hot gases behind it as it creeped through the space between them.

Suddenly he realized he was holding a pistol in his hand where the glass of vodka used to be. Without thinking, Robby turned toward the window and fire a single shot. It shattered and rained glass all around him, scattering around the table and Jake’s motionless body.

Robby mustered all his strength and leapt through the broken window and began to fall toward the grassy plot of land, three floors down from the window. Everything was still in slow motion, but sound was beginning to return to his ears.

As he fell, it seemed more like floating, he could hear the wind blowing, the tinkling of glass shards still falling in the kitchen, the muffled shouts of the armed men, and the report of the gunshots. He could hear his own heartbeat and his breathing, loud and echoing within him.

Reality was beginning to accelerate to normal speed, and the ground was now just a few feet away. But now he felt something; a strong force squeezing the back of his neck. He couldn’t see what it was, but he couldn’t ignore it as it began to overtake his senses. 

Sound was returning but light was fading fast. The force on his neck grew stronger and stronger as the world around him sank into darkness. Just as his face made contact with the soft, warm grass rising up to meet him, everything went black.

Robby’s eyes shot open and he gasped for breath, his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands were clenched into tight fists. One hand gripped the edge of the table and the other trembled as it squeezed the pistol in his hand.

Robby sat at the lunch table, smoking gun in hand. Across from him was Jake’s lifeless body, a dark red spot in the middle of his forehead, a red stream of blood flowing from it, his wide eyes glossy and red. Jake’s glass of vodka was shattered and glass shards strewn all over the table and around his motionless body. Robby tried to process what he was seeing but it wouldn’t hold in his mind.

The force on the back of his neck began to subside, sound flooded back into his ears, light streamed in from every surface, and even his sense of smell was working on overdrive. The pungent smell of cordite mixed with iron and blood hit him like a punch in the face and he began to gag and cough.

A voice came from behind him; a woman’s voice.

“Easy Robby! Easy! Catch your breath, it’s over!”

Robby began to sag out of his chair but a pair of arms caught him and helped him to his feet and pulled him away from the table. Mia was shorter than Robby but she managed to pull him to the living room and drop him at the couch. He collapsed under his own weight into the plush fabric of the cushions.

Mia caught her breath and looked him over. He had a bullet wound on his leg, but she could tell it wasn’t serious. She looked over her shoulder at the table and could see one of the table legs where Robby sat had a chunk blown out of it by a bullet. It dampened the force of the bullet as it passed into Robby’s leg., but splinters and chunks of wood were scattered around the kitchen floor. Jake was still motionless and bleeding, so Mia was confident he was no linger a threat. She turned back to Robby and spoke in a hurried voice.

“Ok Robby you did it! You did great, no we have to get out of here fast before anyone sees us.”

“Mia?”, Robby was still trying to make sense of things. “What are you doing here? Why.. How are you here?”

“I’ll explain everything on the way out, but please Robby we have to go now!”

She pulled him off the couch and threw his arm around her shoulders. She struggled but they made it out of the apartment and into the dim hallway. So far, no one was looking for them, maybe they could get away clean.

Everything had gone according to plan. The pack of chemical was found, the antidote had worked, they had survived, and the smuggler was dead. The only thing left to do was run.