At The Bistro

“Excuse me.” I was walking from the sidewalk to the bistro. The timid woman had seen my face first, noticed my feathers in lieu of afro, and was now staring at my feather cloak in fascinated awe. But she did not recognize me.

“Hmm?” She didn’t hear my reply, but started to reach out to the cloak. Sensing a child-like wonder from her, I held it out for her to touch. She realized what she was doing and recovered her adult senses with embarrassment. She looked up to see I was smiling and still holding the cloak out. Gently, she stroked a few of the feathers.

“I’ve never seen… soft…” Her curiosity satisfied. She suddenly remembers her conundrum. “Um. I’m not familiar with the way parking works here…” She looks back at her silver Acura parked at the curb before the bistro. “I see the meter, but I don’t see how to pay it.”

“First time to Downtown [of the City]?” She nods. “Come on, I’ll show you.” She follows me happily to the sidewalk meter. “There’s two ways to pay. If you know you’re only going to be here a certain time, you enter the time you want to dedicate and enter your Citizen’s code. If you don’t have a Citizen’s code, then you enter your Tourist Visa code. Did you move here, or just visiting?”

“I moved here, well, to the suburbs… But I want to see more than just houses and schools, ya know?”

“So you have a Citizen’s card?” She holds it up. “There’s a chip in it, tied to your home address. You have a monthly allowance for downtown fees like parking and such. If you’re not sure how long you’re going to be here, you wave your card in front of the meter, and it picks up the chip. Your allowance will only be charged for the length of time your car remains here.”

She holds her Citizen’s card in front of the meter. It beeps and the display turns from red to green. “Neat! But… what happens when I run out of the allowance? How do I refill it?”

“When you shop here, a portion of what you spend will be added to the allowance. That part rolls over every month, so don’t think you have to spend it all or lose it. The allowance is just enough to get you started. It’s the City’s encouragement to explore your home town. It’s the City’s version of “Shop Local”.”

She’s excited to hear this. She starts gushing how she had worked so hard to move to the City. She has a new job in one of the prominent companies. Strangely, she dismisses her position as “mere paper pusher”. I can tell she has a desire to work up the ranks.

We continue chatting about the different districts in the City, and where she should explore first being a brand spanking new Citizen. As we walk inside the bistro, I notice a couple sitting at one of the outside tables. Both nursing a black coffee, the teens were more interested in the Citizen’s car than each other. When I first saw them, they were dressed in nondescript jeans, shirts, and hoodies. Appearing very much the background, very easy to overlook.

Too easy.

I continued talking with the new Citizen, but turned my dead eye towards them.

Changelings.

The clothes became filthy, ragged, and threadbare. The hands lengthened into talon tipped claws. The faces were gaunt. They smiled a lot, thinking themselves safely hidden, revealing a multitude of sharp teeth. Their ears lengthened and developed tufts of fur on the tips. The man’s ears were focused forward. One of the woman’s ears was focused on me.

“I think she’s onto us.” The woman whispered to her tablemate.

“Nonsense. She would be on our ass if she was. ~humph~ I don’t even think that’s her. How many feather cloaks have we seen today? Just another fashion victim. Keep cool, or you’ll give yourself away.”

“I’m telling you, she’s not some fangirl. That’s Weav*” She jumps as the man ‘accidentally’ spills her coffee on her.

“Say her name, and you’ll summon her. Knock the shit off. That’s not her. Just another groupie.”

I have groupies? In the City? After all the shit that’s happened? Huh? But then again, serial killers have groupies in the Waking as well.

The new Citizen and I are seated by the windows. I make sure I sit so to be able to watch the Changeling pair and the car. The new Citizen has her back to them. We order lunch, and continue chit-chatting about downtown distractions.

Just as my pastrami sandwich on rye is served, I see the Changlings get up and start towards the woman’s car. I excuse myself from the table, claiming to have an important phone call that I should take outside. I catch the server’s eye as I leave and nod towards the outside. The server follows my gaze and her face darkens in recognition. She nods and picks up the phone, her sight steadily fixed on the two Changelings.

As I pass through the door to the outside, I hide myself in shadows. The Changelings never sense me walk up behind them. The woman is acting as lookout, while the man is trying to jimmy open the car door. Still invisible, I snatch the two foot long bar from his hand and lightly tap him upside the head with it.

“The fuck are you two doing?” I allow myself to be seen. The man jumps back, ready to run. The woman blanches and starts to stammer.

“Help me, Weaver! I locked my keys in the car! And my disguise is about to fail! You know what will happen if I’m caught here! Lemme just get in my car and I’ll leave quietly!”

“Yea… that would be nice… if this was your car.” I tapped the meter. “You two watched me walk the new Citizen through the procedure. The meter itself has marked this as a Citizen’s car. You’re not human. You’re not a Citizen. This isn’t your car. Try another lie.”

Behind me, the man surged forward to try and snatch the bar from my grip. Feeling his attempt, I shift a little to my left. His forward momentum carries him too far. He grabs the bar, alright, but not with his hands. He falls to his knees beside me, whimpering and holding his crotch.

“Weaver Ravendaughter.” The Envoy appears walking up on my left. “You keep me guessing. I can never tell what I’m going to walk into when your name is involved. No blood, today? How pleasant.” I wince at the wording, but his teasing is very much justified.

“Good morning, Envoy. I have a gift for you.” I hand him the bar the Changelings were using. “If nothing is required of me, I have a lunch and a conversation partner to return to.” I look through the windows and see the patrons within are staring out of the window in inquisitive glee. I start to back away, but he gently holds my hand.

He looks over the bar. “Hardened silver. This is quite a gift. Do you know what you handed me?”

I pulled my hand away with the same softness as it was held. “No, Envoy. I don’t. I’m not here to play chess today. I’m here for a pastrami on rye sandwich that I haven’t had in fifteen years. I have no charges to file against those two. They were not successful in entering the car. Hell, they didn’t even wipe the dirt off, much less damage it. They’re fae, of course they have hardened silver. But it is not my responsibility to police the City. I’m just doing my duty as a citizen, that’s all.”

I turn away from the Envoy before he could answer and address the woman fae. “I have groupies? Seriously?”

Her eyes darted between the Envoy, her friend, and me. “Yea. You do. A whole bunch of fools wearing cloaks and feathers and calling themselves names that are supposed to be related to you. Most of them are more a danger to themselves than to anyone else. Most of them don’t leave the City.”

I sighed and held my face in my hand. “I’m not responsible for them. I have no connection to them. After all I’ve written, why would anyone want to emulate me… fuck. What the fuck.”

A police officer handcuffed the woman. Another handcuffed the man and tried to pull him to his feet.

“You detained them with a Citizen’s Arrest, Weaver. It’s up to you what should be done with them. I am merely the Envoy, your humble liaison with the City.” He smiled smugly. I knew what he was doing, the asshole. There are many ways to entrench a person into the City.

I deeply sighed again. “I caught them attempting to break into property that is not theirs. And that’s all I caught them doing. You have the tool they used. Deport them. Escort them out of the City. But have a care with the man. He is meditating on the folly of evolving external gonads.”

The Envoy nodded, smiling. The handcuffed woman couldn’t help but chuckle at her compatriot’s circumstance. The handcuffed man groaned loudly on the sidewalk. As the officer tried to lift him again, I continued. “That means watch him twice as closely, because he’s depending on human compassion to give him enough leeway to slip out of the cuffs and get away.”

The man glared at me from his seated position. The Envoy nodded in agreement. The woman laughed despite her captivity.

“Then return to your lunch, Weaver Ravendaughter. I shall not keep you any further. But should you find you have a use for this metal, it will remain in my possession until you, personally, ask for it.” I nodded in acceptance, and began to walk away. “By the way, Ravendaughter, thank you for helping your fellow Citizen, and for not making a mess… this time.” I scrunched my face at his very polite jab, and nodded in polite answer.

I entered the bistro again, to find my drink had been refreshed, and my bill waiting for me. Deliberately detailed on the bill in very elegant handwriting was written, “Paid in Full, with Compliments of the Staff.”. I looked at my tablemate, who only shrugged in reply.

“When everything started outside, they asked if I was sitting with you. When I said I was, suddenly, I’m being offered all sorts of stuff! When I said I didn’t have the funds for it, they insisted I take it anyway! Are you some sort of celebrity around here?”

“I don’t think I am. Apparently, there are those that think otherwise.” I smile sadly. “I have a mixed reputation. You’re just starting out here. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

She laughs. “I have good company then. I would rather sit with someone that is real, than someone known for only one thing. Those folks with pure reputations are often nothing pure at all. Who was that tall and suave gentleman out there? The one in the suit?”

Damn, this is a good sandwich. “Hmm? The Envoy? That’s what I call him. He has many names, depending on how you perceive him. To me, he’s the representation of the City. And a pain in the ass.” I smile as I say it. “You’ve probably already met him, but in a different manner. It all depends on how you perceive the City, and your place within it.”

“There’s a lot to learn here.” I nod. “What if I make a mistake?”

“You’ll be corrected. That’s all. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. You have a sense of right and wrong, you’re adaptable, and you’ve already decided to embrace the City. You’ll be alright.”

Our lunch was completed. She noted the time and mentioned she had to return to work. “Will I see you again, Weaver Ravendaughter?”

“If you want a peaceful life in the City, hope you never do.”

“And if I want an exciting life?”

“Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.”

She laughed, closing her eyes tightly as she did so. I took that opportunity to hide in my cloak, becoming invisible, and removing the plate, glass, and bill from the table. She looked around in sudden surprise. She stared at the table as if by will alone, she could make my plate reappear. She gathered up her goods given to her by the staff, and quietly left the bistro in peaceful confusion.

I placed my plate and glass in the busser’s basket, and left bistro and dream.

Good morning.