The guardian and his last chance. Realization

IV

The air is filled with the nice scents from food. Fried potatoes with herbs, fish both oven-roasted, fried and deep-fried. My rucksack is beside me. The jacket is mended. And to my joy I found a shop that had most of the things I needed. I stockpiled so much I could. But most to my luck I found some new clothes in my bloody size. Right now, I am sitting on a restaurants outdoor seating. I fixed my jacket, right here. “Are you ready to order?” a sweet voice ask.

I look to the waitress. She is around twenty, her hay-blond hair is up in a lose ponytail. Her body is slim, with wide hips. “Yes, a glass of water and the steak.” She wrote it down. Then she looked up and locked eye with me for a second.

“We have three sizes on the beef steak.” She says with a smile. “one-eighty grams, threehundred grams and the chefs challenge, a two-kilo piece.” I felt my mouth watering. My long journey has made me hungry. And of course, had my stomach his own plans, wanting to voice our hunger for all to hear.

“The chefs challenge.” I said with a smile. She nodded and walked inside. I choose to sit outside because of 2 things. 1, I want to sit relaxed and without to feel like herring in a can. 2, I don´t like crowds. A small smile is on my lips. And it got bigger, by all the wonderful scents in the air. Also, by remembering the waitress face when I wanted to eat. She was literally turning a bit pale, by the sight of me. But of course, she must be five, four. She is just up to my first ribs. Personally, I don´t hate shorter girls. My late wife was around five feet. I shut my eyes. She is so clear in my mind, five feet high, sun kissed skin, her chestnut brown and waist long hair in a braided ponytail. A chest with the cup size of c they call it today, lean waist and wide hips.

I woke up from my memory, when I heard a glass hit the table. I smiled at the waitress. Her cheeks turn a pinkish red. Then I see the glass. And I can´t hinder my laugh. The glass is an ordinary water glass, just two deciliters worthy size. The waitress looks around sheepishly. “I don´t laugh at u, miss.” I said still laughing. “But at the size of the glass.” I put my hand near the glass. It just disappeared in my hand, when I gripped it. I saw she formed an Ooo on her lips. “Have you any bigger glasses?” She blushes and looks down at the ground embarrassed. The answer comes as a shake of her head, that makes her hair fly. “So, no bigger glasses” I sighed. “But I know what we do.” She looked up confused. I gave her a smile. “A pitcher. That would be sufficient.”

She nods and head inside. I look around. And I can see how many of the people here looks at me. Maybe not directly, but still looking at me. I look up to the sky. What I can see, is a blue sky with just some strands of white clouds. People comes and goes. It seems that this restaurant is pretty popular, in this town. Both couples and whole families eats here. And I thought to myself. “This place would be a good place to take your love to.”

“Ehem, mr customer.” I hear the waitress say. I look down at her. Hers cheeks blushing a great red tone. “The chefs wonders what kind of degree of frying u want.” I know that it was a long time ago I ate on a restaurant. I looked at her a bit confused. She twitched a bit under my glare. “You know, rare, medium and well-done.”

It felt like someone hit me in my head with a sledgehammer. That I was so bloody dense. “Bloody, miss. Can u ask them to add some more potatoes.”

She nods and disappear again. I wonder if she is a new employee, in my eyes she does a good job. In the air is not only the great scents of the foods but the sounds of giggles, laughter and talking. I like it. This town seems to be peaceful. What I have felt through my nose all day, is that this town is split by the wolfs and humans. This pack seems to not have a so called packhouse (or den, my kin called it). I think they are willing to live side by side with the weaker kin. That I find really goodand satisfying. Just maybe I can make me a home here, maybe. My thoughts abruptly blown away, by a mouth-watering scent. I look across the table. And sees a man come out. The waitress points in my way. The man is wearing a white jacket, gray-white checkered pants and an apron around his waist. He must be one of the chefs. He smiles big, and come to stand on the other side of the table.

“Dear customer, I am Millard head-chef and owner of Forest Mill” he says still smiling. Without more words he put down my plates. “If u finish, the meal is on the house.” I looked at the food, then skeptical at Millard. “Have a good meal.” He left.

I looked at his back. Then turned my gaze to the plates. One with potatoes, roasted with thyme, garlic and pepper. And one with the steak, it lays on  a deep plate. The meat smells of rosemary, thyme, garlic, pepper, bell peppers, chili and tomato. But I think that there is a hint of alcohol in the scents. It must be in the meat juice. My stomach rumbles loudly. And I sighs as I look at the cutlery. They will never fit in my hands. Without hesitation I drew my knife. This blade fits my hands. Maybe too much for this meal and public. I take one of the smaller potatoes between my index-finger and thumb, I know it is piping hot. Fast I put in mouth. I like the taste, and it was done almost to perfection. Happy with the potatoes I turned to the big steak. I liked my lips as I cut a mouthful of the meat. My knife was to big as I thought, the whole knife is 15 inches. The handle is 3 inches. But it´s edge is like a razor. I look at the meat. It´s bloody, from the cut I made, meat juice is flowing. The slice goes in my mouth. The taste is good, the meat is not tough or chewy. Really nice. And it remembers me of my kin, and my wife´s cooking. I let the memory be as I eat. Steady the meat disappear and the potatoes. I cut with the knife, eats with my fingers. I can hear some of the other guests say. “He is like a beast.” “Look at his dirty hair.” “why don´t the owner kick him out.” “I´m losing my appetite.”

My clean hand grips the pitcher, and I realize it is empty. My brows lower. I have still some food to go. And I am not full yet. two smells hit my nose. The smell of fruity beverage of hops and barley, and the buttery garlic, make my mouth water some more. I know what this is garlic bread and beer.

“Little miss.” I said, louder than I thought. Most of the customers are looking my way. It was just a second, before they started there dinner again.

The same waitress as before comes running. “Is everything good?” she asks with red cheeks.

“It´s all good, miss.” I said with a smile. “Just one thing.” She looks around as if she wants someone’s help. I pushed the pitcher toward her. “Can you fill it with beer? Also, I want to order 2 slices of garlic bread.”

She sighed out in relief. And nodded. “Of course.”

Soon the bread and my beer arrived. This is real bliss. I finished my order.  The bread has a strong taste of garlic and fried butter. That taste is really good with the meat juice. It was a long time ago I could fill my stomach like this. I use a clean napkin, to clean my knife. With a big smile, I finish my beer. In bliss I stretched my arms and back, still sitting. “God dang it!” I hear someone say. My arms fall back to my thighs. I turn my head. There is Millard. He frowns a bit. I see behind him, that many of the customers has stopped in their track.

“U finished my challenge.” Millard said in disbelief, with high voice. He shook his head. “Even with extra potatoes and garlic-bread." I heard gasps in chock from some of the geust. guess they are regulars. 

I felt happy. “It was good, really good.” I said as I rose up. Millard’s face turns a shade of paler. “I was hungrier than I thought.” I put my jacket on and swung the rucksack up on shoulders. Against Millard I turned. And bowed down. My axe stood against the table. With a fast movement, I put it in its loop. “Thanks for the meal. It remembered me about my mom´s cooking.” I lied. I put a hand in the right-side pocket on the jacket. “So, what do I owe you?” Millard’s jaw dropped. He seems to be in chock. The waitress comes and poke at Millard’s side. No reaction. No at all. She turns against me.

“U need to excuse my dad.” She said. Her blue eyes gave Millard a fast gaze, then locked with mine. “You are the first person to ever finish my dad’s challenge. It is on the house, the full meal at that.” She smiles and hits her father softly on his stomach.

“Alright!” I thought. Shaking my head, I pull out the bills I have left. 50 dollars I threw on the table. Even if the meal is fully paid by the house, I can´t leave like that. I started to go to the B&B. I had asked about directions earlier under the day.