I saw her as soon as I walked in. She sat at the corner table, the tiny one with the bench seat that barely seats two, and gives you the view of the whole room. She wore rust-coloured jeans, and her black hair had a dazzling russet splash running through her fringe. She had an owl amulet around her neck, and her hair hid her eyes. The table in front of her was covered with unfamiliar-looking cards, laid out in an intricate pattern. I was curious, but there wasn't any time to stop. I was on duty in just a few minutes.
I ran through the door marked Private, narrowly missing Doug, his coat in his hand. 'Hey, boss. Got to go. Need to pick Mary up from the day care centre. You said it was okay?' 'Of course. I said you could. Give your ma-in-law a hug from me. Everything going okay this afternoon?' I kissed him on the cheek as I squeezed past. Doug was my oldest friend, and I couldn't run the place without him. I could handle the arguments about games rules, and balance the books, but only Doug could bake the best vegan brownies and the lightest scones in town. I checked in on Sarah, who was waiting tables, and put my head round the door of the kitchen. Doug's partner John was plating up the last couple of lunch orders. 'Jenny! Hi, gorgeous. Doug was fretting that you weren't going to make it,' he said. 'I'm sorry. The bus was late, and the traffic was all gnarly round the Three Oaks roundabout.' 'It's fine. Don't be daft. Drink your tea. It's there on the side.' I blew him a kiss, chugged down the mug of builder's tea the colour of terracotta, just how I like it, and took the two bowls of seafood stew through to the café. The Board Room was the first games café in town, and after a slow start we are doing okay. People come for the board games, from snakes and ladders to the fantasy tabletop role player games, and stay for Doug's incredible cooking. We have customers that come alone and get drawn into other people's play, and others that come in groups. We even had a proposal, with an engagement ring hung around a tiny orc's neck. There are kids on Saturday afternoons, and retirees during the week. I love it. The atmosphere is just amazing. I scanned the room to see if anyone had an order, needed a table clearing, or wanted to ask an in-depth question about the finer rules of double word score in Scrabble. I picked up a tray and the woman in russet looked up at me. Just as she placed a card down on the table, I heard a crash in the kitchen. I thrust the tray into Sarah's hands and dashed through the door. The kitchen floor was covered in shards of glass. John looked puzzled, his hands in front of him as if he were still holding the bowl that was now in a million pieces across the floor. A single bead of blood dawdled across his palm. Sarah came in behind me, put the tray down on the side, and told me to go back into the cafe, she would help John clear up. I pasted my best smile on, opened the door and told everyone that it was all fine. There was still an odd pressure in the air, and people's voices seemed muffled. I thought I caught a half smile from Russet in the corner, who went back to her unfamiliar game of cards. I pinched the bridge of my nose, thinking that my sinuses must be playing up. I didn't think I had looked away, but I must have, because there was now a second woman beside her, dressed in pale jeans and a shimmering grey silky top. Her hair rippled and shone like quicksilver. The monochrome was broken by a glorious splash of deep pink lipstick. Silver reached across, and picked up and laid down a card. My ears popped and the pressure lifted. I heard someone laugh, and another person call my name for a coffee refill. Silver looked at me, her head tipped to one side. She held out her coffee cup. I realised I had the filter jug in my hand but no memory of picking it up, or putting a cup on the small table. I poured the coffee, and she topped it up with the jug of hot milk beside her. She smiled at me and it left me inexplicably happy. It was as if her smile were just for me. Russet pointed at her cup, a glossy dark mug that I didn't remember seeing before. I poured out coffee and she drank it straight off, black and scalding hot. I waited at tables, sorted out an argument about how you spell sturgeon, and gave a teenager a spare ten-sided die, with a promise that if he lost another one, he would be washing up for a week. I saw Russet lay down a card. She smiled at Silver, pleased with what she thought was a particularly clever move. Silver frowned a little and pursed pink-slicked lips. Outside, the sun went behind a cloud, and I flicked the lights on. The air became heavy with humidity. The change in pressure started a headache. Behind me, an elderly woman knocked a cup off her table. It smashed to the ground and the sound sent a zig zag of pain through my head. I span round. 'Shit. What now?' I never usually snap at customers, even in moments of stress. Even when they lose stuff and break stuff. Something was really getting to me today. 'I'm sorry, Mrs Ross. Got a headache coming. I think there is a storm brewing.' The quiet and normally unflappable Mrs Ross looked close to tears. I put a fresh mug of tea on her table, and called for Sarah to bring a dustpan and brush. The sound levels in the café were rising, as if people were talking over music, but there was nothing playing. I could almost feel a baseline thump, like a band rehearsing in a room upstairs. There was an eye-wateringly bright flash of lightening, and all the lights went out. One of the Scrabble players screamed and knocked the board to the ground in an avalanche of plastic letters. Down on the edge of the water, the Greek statue that had been there as long as I remembered – the odd one with the tall plinth – toppled into the water. The lights came back on and rain fell outside, hard and deafening against the glass. The café was silent. Russet stared hard at Silver, as if challenging her to something. As I walked towards them, the air seemed to crackle, and my hair tried to stand on end. Silver studied the cards, touching them with a pale finger tipped with a glossy metallic nail. She started to pick up one and then another, then set them both back down. Russet started to smile a smile that was beautiful but not quite nice. But then Silver grinned with almost childlike joy and picked up a card, slapping it down on the other side of the table. The sun came back through the clouds, and Sarah slipped a piece of shortbread into Mrs Ross' hand with a grin, tapping her finger on the side of her nose. Looking at me, Silver triumphantly gathered up all the cards and slipped them into her pocket. She drained her coffee, raising the cup in a salute. The door slammed, and they were both gone. I went over to clear the table and saw a piece of gold leaf stamped with an owl, and a silver rod with snakes twined around it. Doug came back through the door and looked at the table. 'That's a ghost coin version of Charon's obol. And a caduceus. They are beautiful. Where did they come from?' We sat in the setting sun, looking over the water at Ferryman's Wharf. Behind us, John and Sarah cleared the tables and tidied up, the blue plaster on John's hand showing up in the gloom. And Doug told me the story of Charon, who took the souls across the water from the land of the living to the land of the dead in return for a coin, and Hermes or Mercury, the messenger of the gods who slipped between the worlds of the mortal and the divine. I'm not sure who paid the ferryman today. But whoever it was took the ten-sided die with them.
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October 2024
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