Between the Lanterns(2)
“Are you ok, sweets?” Samantha asked.
August could only stare for a moment, before stuttering in reply, “Uh, what? Sorry… what’d you say?”
Samantha smiled. It felt good to be noticed by an attractive man.
“I said, are you ok?” she repeated herself. “You’re staring, you know?”
August realized he was making a fool of himself in front of the most beautiful womean he had ever seen. She wasn’t beautiful by the standards of modern insane media. She was nothing like all the women he saw in movies and on TV, who were too thin and plastic. And, just like food from a Nutricator, they were all fake. These women may have been composed of organic parts, but a machine had artificially assembled those parts; they weren’t natural.
This woman, though, with her straight, shoulder -length black hair, almond -shaped eyes, that perfect skin tone that only East Asians could obtain, and the small spread of freckles across her face;: she was radiant like a sun.
Not Earth’s sun, though. It was too dim to describe her. No, she was radiant like the sun of a distant planet that could melt the Earth from across the galaxy. Of course, the way that navy blue dress with white dots all over it fit the delicate curves of her small breasts and backside wasere also quite compelling to the young man.
“Hello?” Samantha said., “You’re still staring. Kinda freaking me out there, sweets. Are you ok, for real? Did the blackout fry your brains or something?”
“Am I ok?” August dumbly asked, “I ain’t sure, to be honest. But I think now that I’ve seen you, I could be. I’m…” Hhe cut off abruptly.
August almost gave her his name. Almost. But he had been rejected and broken his whole life. Not just by women, but also by co-workers, his parents, and his friends; even his dog had run away. So, he decided not to open himself up for more heartbreak.
“I… I’m fine, ma’am,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry for spacin’ out like that. I’ll take off now. That is if you’re ok?”
Samantha smiled even wider. She thought this boy was too damn cute. “Yes, sweets. I’m alright,” she said kindly. “Thanks for your concern.”
“Ok, great. Great. Well, I’ll, uh, stop wastin’ your time, then,” August told her.
“See you around.” August realized he sounded foolish, but he couldn’t help it.
She was that entrancing.
“I hope so, sweets. Maybe we’ll meet between the lanterns again,” Samantha said, and she meant it. He was put together real well and seemed like a very nice man.
August, too, sincerely hoped they would meet again.
Chapter 1
THAT AIN’T FOOD
Several weeks passed. Samantha continued to work away at the diner. It had been six years since she had started working there. It wasn’t glamorous, and it barely paid the bills. But none of that mattered to Samantha. She was happy making real food. She was pleased to make anything with her hands, actually.
When she was off work, she made origami swans or paintings of the night sky. Sometimes she attempted woodworking. Sam found that very satisfying and she was getting pretty good at it. The sense of satisfaction in taking some wood and turning it into whatever she could imagine was wonderful.
Sometimes she made figurines of fish or bears. Other times she tried bigger projects, like the bookcase in her living room. Maybe it was a little bit crooked, but she hadn’t gone down to Montek.Mart and bought it. Samantha had made it with her own two hands, and that was worth a few books falling down every once in a while.
One afternoon at work, the diner was unusually busy. Most of the time they only had ten to fifteen customers all day, but on this day all twenty seats in the restaurant were full, and two more people were waiting outside for a table to open up.
“Tara, why on Earth is it so busy today?” Samantha asked with wide eyes.
“I have no clue, Sam! Isn’t it wonderful?” her co-worker and financial partner, Tara, replied. “I wish every day could be like this. With tips like this, I could afford a Nutricator for my apartment within a week!”
“Why in Heaven’s name would you want a stupid old Nutricator, Tara?” Samantha asked, truly disgusted. “That ain’t food. That is just glued-together by-products. It’s sick, is what it is, sweets.”
“Oh hush, Sam,” Tara replied. “Not everyone loves to spend hours making dinner every night. Hell, I work in a diner:, the last thing I want to do when I get home is cook more damn food. Anyway, take this pie over to table 10, please and thank you.”
She could not understand why a woman like Tara, who could cook every bit as well as Samantha, would buy a damn Nutricator. It made no sense at all. But different strokes for different folks, they used to say. She grabbed the chocolate pie and headed over to table 10, where sat a lonely old man sipping a cup of freshly brewed Folgers.
“Here you are, sweets: a delicious slice of chocolate pie,” Samantha said, laying the plate on the table. “I’m so jealous of you! Now I might have to eat a slice on my break in just a bit. You enjoy it, now.”
The elderly man smiled at her with tears in his eyes and looked down in shame. Samantha couldn’t begin to wonder why this gentle, older man would be so sad.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said through the frog in his throat. “I just realized that I only have enough Credit for the coffee. It sure does look delicious, though. My apologies, Miss.”