Dinner with the Dead

The grey door in front of Lester was far too unassuming for what existed on the other side. 

An assistant - Jamie, according to his nametag - played tour guide for the teen, rambling in his most excited voice about the wonders of cognitive storage technology. None of it registered; Lester could only stare at the door. What would it be like meeting an actual dead person? What would this Curtis guy be like?

Jamie finished reading the factoids off his notecards then opened the door. He ushered Lester inside a small room that had a rectangular wooden table in its center and six chairs pushed underneath. The table was already set for two. A glass door on the opposite wall was the only feature on the navy blue walls.

“Ah, I see you looking at the door over there. Well, through that door is where the magic happens, buddy! And by magic, I of course mean the food... am I right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m just joshing you. We like to kid around here! I mean, yes, that is where the kitchen is – and we have already begun preparing your personalized meal – but it’s also where we keep..." He paused for effect. "...the Rekindler."

That morning, Susanne had told Lester to be respectful. It was for these exact moments. He stopped short of rolling his eyes as Jamie said the last two words with a suspenseful voice.

"Why, we’ve brought back the likes of George Washington, Genghis Khan, even Ted Bundy for one rather strange fellow. I’ve seen countless historical figures come through those doors!”

All of this was in the brochure. Couldn’t he just get this over with?

“But, the most magical moments have been when long lost family members have been brought back. When we say you can have dinner with anyone in history, it doesn’t just mean historical figures. Grandmothers, siblings, even children lost far too early. We’ve created many magical reunions. Are you ready for your Dinner with the Dead?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Ok… um, let’s see here. You selected a Mr. Curtis Loew? I’ve never heard of that name, must be a beloved relative?”

“Yeah. He sure is.”

“Excellent! Well, I’m going to step out and let you and your loved one have some time alone. And again, congratulations on winning the contest. I know this must be a big thrill for you and your family.”

“Oh yeah.”

Once alone, Lester paced around the table. Questions ran through his head as the minutes ticked by. Where should he sit? What would Curtis look like? Why was it taking so long? Was the machine broken? Would they make him come back?

The humming sound behind Lester grew louder. He turned to see one of the engineers holding the glass door open. Behind him, a hunched man hobbled through the doorway. He might have stood as tall as Lester in his younger days, but the hump in his back forced him to lean forward as he walked. Deep wrinkles lined his face like a dry riverbed, his white stubble rising from between the cracks. 

The engineer ducked out of the room and let the door shut. They were alone.

“Who the hell are you? I never knew no Lester O’Doyle. And if you’re here to tell me you’re my great grandson or some shit, I couldn’t care less.”

Lester stared, speechless. They really brought the dead guy out.

“Well, speak up boy. Why the hell did you bring me back from the dead?”

“You're welcome, old man.”

"Oh, this one's got some lip on him. Your momma ain't never teach you no respect?"

Lester looked away for a moment. "S-she didn't teach me as much as your momma did."

The old man stared at Lester for a moment. "This country really has gone to shit. In my day, I woulda stomped a mudhole in your ass for saying something like that."

"You can try, gramps." Lester's voice cracked a little.

The old man chuckled. "Boy, your balls ain't even dropped yet. Even dead and decrepit I'd still beat you silly."

"Well, I'd beat you to death but it seems something else got there first."

Curtis shook his head. "Yeah, you need a good ass whuppin. Your daddy must be dead hisself or he must’ve ditched you. Any self-respecting man woulda beat the tar outa you long ago.”

“…shutup.”

Curtis cocked his head towards Lester. “Huh? I couldn’t hear you there, boy. Speak up.”

“Just shutup already.”

“Aww, I done hurt the boy’s feelings.”

“No, you ain’t hurt nothing. Just getting tired of hearing you blab on.”

“Enough of this shit. Tell me who you are and why you brought me here.”

“Why do you care? I got you back out here in the land of the living. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?? Son, I had everything I could ever want in there: peace, and quiet.”

“Well, I’m sorry I ruined your lonely, miserable existence.”

“Alright boy, enough games. Who the hell are you and why am I here?”

Lester paused. The slight playful tone in Curtis’s voice was gone, replaced by a deadpan seriousness. “Lester. I’m Lester.”

“Goddangit, I know that already. They tell you who came to see you before you come out the doohickey. But who are you?” Curtis paused for a brief moment, then cocked his head. “Actually… you know what, screw this all to hell.” Curtis turned towards the glass door.

“No!” The old man paused. “No, wait. Please.”

“Huh? So the boy can do more than just throw out childish insults, huh? Well, if you don’t tell me why you done brought me back in the next two seconds, I’m gone… Lester.”

“Just stay here thirty minutes. That’s how long I’m supposed to be in here. We don’t even have to eat or spend time together. Just stay in here.”

Curtis took a step toward Lester. “You testing my patience. I don’t give a damn about what you want. Why am I here?”

Lester rubbed the back of his neck. “I had to pick someone. Yours was the first name I could think of.”

“Wha– my name? Son, my name ain’t something most folks think of. Unless…” Curtis pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head slowly. “It’s that damn song, ain’t it?”

Lester nodded. “Susanne and Rob listen to it all the time.”

Curtis pulled a chair out from under the table, one that hadn’t been set. “I hate that damn song. For 48 years I had that name before them boys made that song. Then, all of a sudden people was treating me like I took my name from that song.” Curtis sighed. “Well, that still don’t explain why you go and pick a name from a song. From what I hear, that contraption that brought me here ain’t cheap to use. Why not pick some famous person or your kin?”

Lester looked down. “I don’t care about no celebrities. History is a dumb subject anyway.”

“You ain’t wrong about that. So if you don’t want to see no one famous or none of your kin, why not just turn down the chance here? Coulda saved me a load of hassle.”

Lester didn’t respond; the two didn’t speak a word for a minute or two. When Curtis broke the silence, his voice was less gruff than before. “You ain’t got no one, d’you boy?”

Lester briefly considered lying, but the old man had already seen through him. It seemed foolish to lie. “How did you know?”

“They don’t just give these things away, at least not usually. And that flannel shirt you got on, the one that’s about three sizes too big? Dead giveaway… that’s either your Daddy’s or your Granddaddy’s. Even then it ain’t exactly dressing for the Ritz. Your shoes are falling apart, and your pants are damn close to doing the same. You broke, son… which means you can’t afford to be here.”

Curtis paused, and Lester looked up to see Curtis staring into his eyes. If the old man was expecting a response, Lester didn’t have one. 

“Yet, even being broke and somehow getting to come here, you call up a stranger based on a song you don’t even like? You’d only do that if you ain’t got no one to call up.”

Lester fidgeted with his hands. “I was adopted when I was little. I don’t know my family. And I don’t want nothing to do with them neither.”

“Don’t you have some singer you like? Maybe one of them movie stars?”

Lester shook his head. “I don’t listen to music. And we don’t own no TV, don’t got the money. Susanne and Rob can’t find good jobs, they say.” He tugged at the flannel shirt. “This was the nicest thing they could find for me to wear today.”

“Well, I say again; if you didn’t wanna be here, and you didn’t wanna see no one, then why the heck are you here?”

Lester sighed. “I won a stupid contest at school. It was a national trivia contest, if you won for your school you got put into a big drawing. I only took the trivia test because I like those kinds of things. I never expected to win; I didn’t want to win. But Rob got a call two weeks ago letting him know my name was drawn, and they was so excited.

“Everyone at school kept asking who I was gonna have dinner with. I messed up by telling Rex I didn’t want to see no celebrities; everyone expected me to see family. They bugged me about which one I would pick. I told them I didn’t know yet; I couldn’t tell them the truth. And if I didn’t come today, they would’ve all found out that I’ve got no one, that I’m just a boy that no one wanted.”

Silence filled the room again. Neither seemed eager to be rid of it.

After a few minutes, Lester spoke. “It doesn’t matter. Go if you want to. I’m sorry I brought you back.”

Curtis’s voice was soft. “Oh hush up that nonsense. If you didn’t bring me out here, it woulda never happened. You ain’t the only one with no one. And – “

The glass door opened. A waiter carried a plate with a silver dome cover through. He looked at Lester, then at Curtis, then finally at the table where neither sat at the designated seats.

“Go on ahead and set it down buddy. Me and the young man here’ll sort it out.”

The waiter smiled and deposited the plate in the center of the table. He removed the dome lid to reveal a stack of steaming cheeseburgers, each stacked with lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles. The waiter turned to leave.

“Hey, hold up just a sec. You got any beer back there?”

“Uh… no, sir, they don’t allow us to serve beer when minors are in the room.”

“This young man? Look at him, he’s already done started to grow his mustache. What kinda world we live in where a young man can’t enjoy a brewski?”

“I… don’t know what to say sir. Those are the rules.”

Curtis winked at Lester. “Yeah, yeah… seems the communists done won after all, huh Lester?”

Lester smiled back. He responded “yea, it would seem so,” despite having no idea what a communist actually was.

“I’m truly sorry sir. I can bring my manager up – “

“Aw hell, get outa here. I don’t need to talk to no manager.” 

As the waiter rushed through the door, Curtis turned to Lester. “Well? Are you gonna sit down?”

Lester cocked his head, squinting his eyes at Curtis. “You want to eat?”

“You serious? You done brought me out here and laid a bunch of ‘burgers in front of me… and you think I ain’t gonna eat them? Now, you joining me or not?”