CHIC LITTLE RESTAURANT by Colm Keenan

In the first issue of Playground I suggested a finishing point for a story. Colm Keenan rose to the challenge and sent me his piece called Water Rush. I liked it so much I decided to put it on the NW page - watch out for it and read it after 30th September. He also sent me 'Chic Little Restaurant', originally for the NW page, and I'm publishing it here instead. Your comments will be very welcome.

CHIC LITTLE RESTAURANT by Colm Keenan

She sat in the soft leather seat of this chic little restaurant.

'I'm just going to the "gents", Katie. I have to drain the lizard.'

Katie blushed a slight pink, and started laughing. 'Ok, Derek.Go!'

He walked clumsily with several glasses of South African wine swirling somewhere in his stomach. Derek was tall and built like a stick. He wore a pair of thick spectacles. Sometimes he didn't even have to open his mouth to make her laugh. He always looked comical, even when he was tired; he had a kind of Lesley Nielson face - not ugly but just plain funny. He was a lightweight when it came to drinking also. She found it really cute when he tried to walk and act more sober than he was. When he had that drunken concentrating look - 'I'm as sober as a pioneer judge' - she felt that her ribs would literally collapse. Katie zoomed out her focus and took a trip down memory lane; a dark, chilly road. Bill! Damn him! Why does he still come back to me now? Oh yeah, he was the sweetest man when they were dating. Sure, even then he was a bit of a power freak. But it was easy to say when in love that he was the same as any man - the odd weakness; nobody's perfect, right?

The magnetic, cinematic roll of memory tape started to spin. Ah yes, the first time. 'Hey, why didn't you tell me you'd be late,' growled Bill. 'My sister, Anne, was very sick tonight. I think she's coming down with some sort of fl-'

WALLOP! Right on her left jaw. She was sent reeling back against the wall, and slid down on the floor in a semi-lifeless state.

When she opened her eyes, he was standing over her with a tattered left slipper pressing her chest. He repeated the question in a replica tone of the first one.

'I told you,' she whispered, 'my sister -'

'Go on! Try me!' he bellowed.

This was her 'two roads diverged in a yellow wood' stage. She thought for a moment. Then, almost in a whimper, 'I'm sorry! ...It w-w-won't happen again!' Bill gleamed; helped her up to her feet; brushed some dust off her blouse.

'Let's catch a movie Katie! You can choose. I know you like them romance movies. I don't, but hell, I'd do anything for you....You know that right?'

'I know', she said like a zombie.

And that was how the whole thing had started. The beatings. The rape. The indignity. His sweaty ignorance. . .

A hand waved under her eyes.

'Penny for your thoughts madame?' asked Derek in a real cockney accent.

'I was thinking about nothing, Derek. A nobody!'

Derek changed his accent to Gollom of "Lord of the Rings". 'C'mon my precious. We must go home, master. Master will help us. Master is good to us.' He changed back into his own voice: 'I'm looking forward to this picnic bomorrow, I mean tomorrow.'

Katie tilted her head back and boomed out a laughter that filled the small room. 'Cmon Lord-drunk-too-much. Let's get you home!'

The couple helped each other with their coats. The 'bill' was paid. And the memory of Bill began to fade; just like the glass of ice was melting in the candlelight of that little chic restaurant.

© Colm Keenan

Colm is currently working in South Korea. He says, "Throughout my teens, I lost a lot of the magic of my imagination, getting caught up in the tangible. When I turned 19 I found myself. I would sit at the back door of a rough student house sipping a hot cup of tea, astonished by the rain. I started to see the beauty in simple things that most people would overlook and I started writing poems from this period."
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