The Stranger - Max Frei [257]
“In that case, let’s take the easy way out.” I closed my eyes and pointed randomly at one of the meals listed on the menu. “Number eight. I know what I’m getting. How about you?”
“What an excellent way to make a decision!” Shurf frowned and pointed at something. As one might have predicted, he missed, and knocked over my glass, which crashed to the floor. Lonli-Lokli guffawed again. I sighed. And this was the fellow who was supposed to keep me out of trouble?
“Oooh, I’ll have to try again!” Lonli-Lokli gasped, his laughter finally spent. This time I was ready for him, and propped up the menu in front of him just in time. Sir Shurf’s forefinger pierced right through the menu at about the thirteenth item. The owner of this dangerous weapon exploded in laughter all over again.
“You must be hungry,” I said. “I think a hole in the menu means a double portion. I hope with all my heart that it’s something tolerable.”
“Don’t ever hope! It will be crappier than crap!” Lonli-Lokli announced cheerfully. Then he roared at the proprietor who was timidly making his way to us, “Crap No. Eight, and Double Crap No. Thirteen. And make it snappy!”
“You’ve scared the living daylights out of him,” I said, watching the stooped shoulders of the retreating prorietor. “I can only imagine how—”
“No, you can’t! You can’t imagine the teeniest tiniest thing! All the better. Oh-ho! Now it’s time to start stuffing our bellies! Look how he waddles, it’s hilarious! By the way, your way of choosing a meal is really something. Do you see what they’re bringing us?”
“Yes, I see it,” I said. I was completely at a loss.
They served Lonli-Lokli two minute vase-like glasses, each of which contained a fragment of some whitish substance that smelled simultaneously of mildew, honey, and rum. I was presented with a huge pot, filled to the brim with meat and vegetables.
“Bring me the same, immediately!” Lonli-Lokli demanded. “Otherwise I’ll feel embarrassed in front of the lady. And take back that Number Thirteen! We smelled it, and that was enough!”
“You may leave one,” I interrupted. “I’m very curious about what kind of junk you ordered.”
“Go ahead and try it. Personally, I’m not willing to risk my life over such a trifle. Goodness, Sir Max—how funny you are!”
The proprietor stared at us in mute bewilderment and disappeared, taking one of the much-maligned little vases with him.
I poked around at the whitish substance with squeamish fascination, sniffed it again, and cautiously tasted a bit of it.
It tasted like a horrible mixture of lard and smelly cheese, soaked in some variety of the local spirits.
“Disgusting!” I pronounced with a certain respect. “This is what we need to take back with us as a present for Juffin. It’s the best medicine for homesickness and nostalgia, which he doesn’t suffer from anyway.”
“If we ever see that sly old fox again, that is,” Lonli-Lokli said with a smirk. “Actually, you have a lot of experience traveling between Worlds, don’t you?”
“Not too much,” I replied, a bit shamefaced. “You’ve changed your tune, it seems. You never liked me talking about my World before.”
“It’s not my tune I changed—but myself! You’re so slow to catch on. Don’t you see, that dullard Sir Lonli-Lokli whom you had the misfortune to know couldn’t immediately accept the outlandish story of your origins, even it if were the only logical explanation. But I’m not such an idiot as to deny the obvious. I think the unbearable fellow I was unlucky enough to be then will also accept it in time. But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“Probably not,” I sighed. “Ah, here’s your meal. Bon appetit, Glamma!”
“What a name!” Shurf chuckled. “Someone really had to think to come up with that one.”
He polished off the contents of his pot with unbelievable relish and demanded more. I reached for the kamra, which they made no worse here than in Echo, Lady Sotofa’s uncomplimentary remarks notwithstanding.
“You’re not such a madman, Sir Max,” said Lonli-Lokli, and winked slyly.