L’appel du Noir

It all happened in less than a minute.

To her left, a cork stopper popped from a bottle…

No, it more than popped!

For a split second there, it also whistled! It was no ordinary whistle either, but a rounded pan-flute-esque sort of whistle; a memory filled her mind’s eye, one of her blowing into a glass soda-bottle to produce similar childish music of her own, growing ever deeper as the bottle gradually held less soda.

Over the years, Amber had heard her fair share of cork-stoppers being removed; she knew the sound well, loved it even… but had to admit that she had never picked up on that whistle before.

And now that I’ve noticed it, I know it’s always been there.

She didn’t have long to mull on her thoughts. A rich bouquet of earthy aromas coated the insides of her nostrils like a thin layer of oil that evaporated seconds later. She inhaled slowly, deeply, drawing the scent inwards, savoring the whisper-taste of red wine on the back of her tongue. The realization that she had just tasted a smell was rather astounding to her, but not totally surprising.

Another memory, short and vivid, sparked within her mind; she had just re-entered the room where seven other girls her age had been getting ready for the school ball. The miasma of their combined perfumes had rushed to the very top of her nose in an instant; at the time it had felt akin to spraying it directly into the back of her mouth.

Despite the unpleasant nature of the memory, Amber smiled in appreciation that she now also had a positive remembrance to associate with the sensation.

Her hidden smile grew into a grin she was grateful no one else could see; she listened intently at the sound of wine being gently poured, first into empty crystal, then atop the freshly deposited liquid itself. The first notes rang crisp and high as a balanced trickle flowed from the bottle top, steadily growing softer and lower as her wineglass filled; she shivered as it drew to an end.

She didn’t normally drink red wine, but the aromas floating towards her now were so much more potent than she remembered, and her mouth watered. 

Much like anyone else, Amber knew that wine was most conventionally made from grapes, but she had never actually detected their presence beneath the alcohol and other smells before. Her cheeks ached as she continued grinning like a lunatic at all the wonderful and new sensations bombarding her.

She wanted to laugh, but opted for tasting her wine instead. In addition to grapes, she detected figs, blue berries and licorice; a gentle astringent sensation lingered on her tongue after swallowing, similar to eating a rose petal. It was not unpleasant.

Since when do I detect flavors in wine instead of just getting tipsy?

Four mind-blowing and soul-enriching sensory experiences, all within the space of a minute, was quite a lot for Amber to take in and digest… but at last, she understood.

A small chuckle, hearty and sincere, escaped her mouth, and she felt her whole body relax for the first time since agreeing to go on a blind-date in the first place.

One of her new work friends had set it up, and she only accepted to be polite. In fact, she had tried to cancel with her friend a few times, but Jules simply wouldn’t have any of it.

“Care to share?” Her date asked. His voice resonated like a musical instrument; it was deep but clear, steady but exciting.

“Um… I am not sure I have the words, but…” She hesitated, unsure on how to proceed. “Well, you brought a blind-date to a… dark-restaurant?” She wasn’t sure what else to call it. “I wasn’t prepared, and will admit that I was a little uncomfortable when I stepped into a pitch-black room holding the arm of a blind waiter… I mean we literally just met.” She had observed her own voice as she spoke, and gradually heard how she subconsciously adjusted from nervous into a more confident manner.

“But?” He asked, unwittingly saving her from descending down a self-serving spiral of vanity.

“But… I think I get it now. Hearing the wine bottle being opened, the smells in the air, the pouring of the wine and then… and then the tasting… like I’ve only just discovered all my other senses for the first time.” Her voice lilted with an under-layer of laughter as she continued. “Hi, I am Amber, and I was today-years-old when I discovered the purpose of my taste-buds.”

He laughed appreciatively. “I am sorry that you felt uncomfortable. I admit, eating in complete darkness with a total stranger is incredibly creepy.”

“Your words…not mine.” Amber tried another sip of her wine; she enjoyed the ever increasing ease of their repartee.

“But in your own words...” He was smiling; she could hear it in the pitch of his voice. “You only just discovered your taste-buds, and I feel I helped with that… so I get points for creativity?”

“Oh-oh…he makes jokes too!” She jousted in reply, the humor of the moment raising her voice. It felt like shouting even though she wasn’t and she instinctively swapped over to whispering. “You get points for creativity, but I am applying a redemption tax. Out of 10, that gave you 5. 20% RT leaves you with a 4.”

“So I still have some work to do?” He whispered conspiratorially in reply.

“Some.” She felt mischief brew within her and tried to suppress it.

28 years old and giddy like it is the first day of school. O.M.G Amber! Get it together!

She decided to change the subject a little; still whispering. “I get the impression you’ve been here before. Am I correct?”

Well, that's just not suppressing the mischief at all now, is it Amber?

In the background, music had joined the room to fill the void with life. It was a single acoustic guitar, expertly played by someone Amber suspected of being incredibly gifted. She adored music and recognized the artist was playing Matteo Brenci’s Waves, one of her favorite recent finds. Goose-bumps prickled the flesh of her arms, neck and scalp; she sensed her individual follicles standing to attention and loved every second of it. Some people hated goose-prickles, but not Amber. It was almost enough to distract her from her own question, which he still hadn’t answered.

“Yes, you are correct.” It was like he had eavesdropped on her thoughts. “My apologies, but that music is just so beautiful, I almost always get lost in it and I nearly did just now. She’s incredible, isn’t she?”

“I nearly got lost in it myself, and she certainly is.” Amber admitted. With her sight removed, and her other senses heightened, she felt more confident and at peace with herself, and couldn’t help but wonder why that was. The fact that both the music and the company turned out to be good certainly helped the matter though.

“When were you here before?”

He did a quick nervous chortle; then cleared his throat. “Um, well… I feel I have to be honest with you, and it is likely going to mean the end of this date… but here goes." She listened as he drank from his glass, heard his esophagus contract and relax as he swallowed, and tried to pay careful attention to the words he spoke next.

He inhaled and held his breath for a second. “I really hate going on blind-dates.” The words fell from him like a sigh at first. “I think I have been on about… seven? …over the past three years as my friends all insist I need to find someone. And that’s great and all, but I have responsibilities, and a lot on the old 'metaphorical plate'… and whenever they set me up on one of these, I throw the poor girl, in this case you, into the deep end… just to not have to face a complete stranger in a romantic setting I didn’t initiate myself.”

“I nearly cancelled on you four times for the same reason.” Amber tittered softly; relieved he had felt the same as her about the entire thing. “You certainly were honest though.”

“Yeah…I am sorry about that.” He said, his voice sounding sheepish.

“Don’t be, not about being honest. It’s earned you 2 more points. You are at 6 out of 10 now.”

“What about the Redemption Tax?”

“I think we all pay enough taxes already.”

They sat together in a comfortable silence for a few seconds, but it wasn’t long before the waiter announced his presence at their table.

Jesus! Has he been there this entire time? No… no he surely would have left…right?

She hadn’t paid attention to his departure, so caught up in tasting her wine, and she certainly hadn’t heard his approach, this time caught up with admiring Isaac.

The menu was a complete surprise at L’appel du Noir, and the food deposited before them filled their space with delicate and powerful fragrances of gourmet bliss. Food had never smelled compelling before, she didn’t even think it was possible…

But here I am, in awe of the curiosity that is my next meal.

As they were being seated their waiter, André, had asked just one thing.

“Is there anything you do not eat?”

Amber was not a fussy eater and had said as much.

Guitar melodies saturated their surroundings as the artist moved on to something new, something Amber didn’t recognize but wished she did.

“Can you tell what any of yours is yet?” Isaac asked, sounding genuinely curious. “I definitely smell grilled meat; I think I have rump in my first dish, then something super garlicky that may be mushrooms… I am still smelling the rest.”

Amber felt for the edges of her plate. It was slightly larger than a normal dinner plate would be and raised, almost like a pie-dish. Within were three small bowls, each containing a different meal to taste, explore and figure out.

“At the center of your table I have left small palette cleansers so you can get the most from each dish. Please enjoy.” Amber listened intently for his leaving, convinced she had to hear it this time. It was not that she disliked André, he was very charming. She just wanted to know she was alone with Isaac. Gentle and carpeted footsteps faded from her hearing, and she relaxed.

“Do we eat with our hands?” She asked, not finding utensils, unsure what she would do with them if she had them anyway.

“Yup. They do provide spoons if you need one though?”

“No no.” She said. She felt young and carefree again. “This should be fun.”

They tasted their food. Amber had found something containing seafood; she identified muscles, shrimp, and something that melted like butter on her tongue.

Like a flaky but chewy dumpling or something.

She couldn’t tell what it was and didn’t care, it was glorious. The textures and temperatures played their part too, acting like a cascading sensory explosion which almost caused her to moan out loud. Amber had forgotten she was still in public... and on the blindest date she had ever been on in her life.

She spun her dish, exploring something chewy, with cheese, garlic and butter. “So, how many of those dates made it down the steps?”

“You are the third.”

Still being honest. Am I eating snails? Why didn’t anyone tell me they tasted like heaven braised in garlic?

“Well, the night is still young for lucky number three.” She joked. “But how did things fair for numbers one and two?”

“Number one got to dessert. It was a good date to be honest, but it fizzled out right around the second bite of chocolate mousse. Number two sort of spilled wine on herself, blamed me, and tried to storm out of the building by running into the kitchen.” Amber couldn’t help herself, a hearty laugh escaped her mouth, the whispers and palette cleansers all but forgotten as she spun her plate to explore the next delicacy.

They shared a very pleasant meal in each other’s company, discussing their senses, sharing their food, drinking good wine and listening to incredible music. André had been to collect their empty dishes and fill their glasses with a different vintage, it smelled lighter.

Dessert was soon to follow and they sat together in silence, listening to the solo guitar’s gentle melodies drifting towards their table; it seemed both close and far away.

Amber thought about her earlier anxiety, and wished she hadn’t squandered her time on such silly emotions.

She had officially decided she really liked Isaac, and wanted to get to know him better, but she wasn’t ready to confess this to him yet.

I just hope he feels the same… he must be feeling this chemistry too?!

André arrived with dessert, hints of bitter-sweet chocolate and buttery cream filled her nose. She swallowed as saliva rushed to her mouth in anticipation, and hoped Isaac hadn’t noticed.

“So…” She asked, being both playful and gentle at the same time. “What was it about dessert that caused number one to fizzle out?” She hoped she had managed to deliver it as she had intended.

“We got to the section where I have some responsibilities...” He replied, sounding surprisingly unsure of himself.

“Who doesn’t have a bit of that these days?” She smiled, and wished he could see it. “Please tell me.”

“Well, there is another reason why I brought you to this place.” He started. “My twin sister is the guitarist we’ve been listening to all evening.” He sounded calm once more. “She’s blind, and we live together so I can be close if she needs anything.” He chuckled. “She’s pretty independent though, and earns better money than I do… so I don’t really know who’s taking care of whom anymore.”

Amber hadn’t made a sound the entire time he spoke. Her heart beat had steadily grown faster.

“You are incredible.” It fell out of her mouth without her knowing it was going to happen; anxiety gripped her as she waited.

“You mean you aren’t put off with the whole, not having someone to yourself, thing?” Was all he asked, he sounded genuinely surprised.

“I bet that is what number one told you…” She sighed. “No, that would be the same thing as someone who marries someone with children, only to evil-stepparent those children into obscurity.” She was surprised at the passion she felt as she spoke. “I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

He was silent, and hoped she hadn’t said anything too blunt or inappropriate. She took a hearty bite of her dessert, a glorious chocolate and cream sponge thing with just a hint of rum.

“Um… may I hold your hand?” It should have been very awkward, but it wasn’t. Amber only had the briefest moment to realize that he had not touched her at all the entire evening. In complete darkness, he had respected her need for space and security. The fact that she only just noticed was a testament to the comfort she now felt in his company.

That split second’s realization had almost been too long though, she heard as he leaned back into his chair, withdrawing as though she had rejected the idea.

“Yes… you may.” She blurted, disliking how desperate her voice sounded to her own ears.

His hand felt about the table, gingerly working towards her till they finally brushed her fingertips. He rested them gently over hers; they were warm and soft with only a few calluses. 

He squeezed gently then leaned in; she sensed him draw closer and smelled his scent; sandalwood, soap and mint.

He spoke with the softest whisper. “Thank you for surprising me in all the right ways tonight. May I see you again some time?”

“On one condition.” Her heart was pounding in her chest, throat and ears, and Amber was sure he could probably feel her pulse vibrating through her.

“What’s that?” Still whispering.

“Please introduce me to your sister before we leave here this evening.”