Martoons

Cast of characters

Mr Go

Restaurant owner

*

“The one thing left of mine that she’s not going to get is my signature on her document,” said Go. 

* Will this statement of his prove true? *

The owner chuckled with nostalgia in his eyes.

“Boy, amazing how much society has changed. Now everything’s paperwork and name stamps.

“Back in my day, if you wanted something, you needed a big stick against your enemy and a bag full of juice money for the police and politicians.”

“How do you think I got this prime piece of real estate that we’re sitting on now?

“At first, some socialist type wanted to build public housing here.” The owner waxed nostalgic.

“He was bragging about it all over town so as soon as I found out, I slipped an unmarked envelope to a buddy at city hall.”

“They cancelled that guy’s permit. Oh boy, did he ever raise a stink in the media.”

The owner looked down somewhat regretfully. “A couple of my goons gave him a massage to calm him down. I think they may have calmed him down too much!

“I saw him a few days later – black and blue! Looked like he’d run into a Hyundai truck!” The owner sighed, and then got up to leave the booth.

* Do you think the owner feels guilty over what he did? *

“Take care my friend and be careful. The No family is fierce. You know what they say: Nobody says no to the Nos!”

He slid the booth door shut.

Go nodded, thinking about what the man had said. Miss No did have her ways and Go knew he’d have to be on full alert tonight if she dropped by.

I’ll just keep distracting her with a good little time-waster like my 100 nightly push-ups. Or, I could smoke her out. She hates second-hand smoke…

* Will that work? *

He took another puff then stuffed his cigarette out. Restless and anxious now, he’d been sitting too long and when that happened, walls seemed to close in.

Miss No’s got patience. She’ll wait through my push-ups; withstand my smoke-out – anything to get me to stamp her paper.

He got up and slid the door open. Stepping down off the platform, he felt a nice prevailing fresh breeze coming down the hall as some new patrons had come in the front door.

He took a deep breath.

I’m over-thinking this. He doffed the slippers, slid into his shoes and made his way up front. Too much mind. I’ll just let the cards fall where they may.

As he stepped outside the restaurant, the sun was beaming down. Standing fast outside the entrance, he stretched luxuriously.

All of a sudden, Mr Go couldn’t wait for spring.

He fished out his smokes again, lit up, and took a long, measured inhale to fill every corner of his lungs.

He found himself mesmerized by the glowing ember on the end of the cigarette, and as he continued to meditate on it, a fire engine faded in and sped past.

Still tipsy from Comrade No’s wine, his line of vision reflexively followed the surging red, wailing fire engine; his eyes now locked on its flashing orange beacon.

He didn’t blink until it was all the way down the street and out of sight.

*

Tomorrow: Miss No is encouraged to eat, but she’s got other things on her mind…