Etherim Lake

The Christmas season had arrived. A time for cheer, family, gifting and a few birthdays. The sky grew darker and the temperatures plummeted at a steep curve. There was even a flash of freezing rain, but there was little hope for snow this year. Nothing was set on stone though, with the unpredictable weather patterns there might be snow before Christmas.

I adopted more shifts at the café spending most of my weekdays there. I had no particular reason to do so, the extra money would be nice though. I had gifts to buy and a birthday party to fund.

Tensions at school had risen. I now walked through the halls and felt an oppressive tang. The attention I now received was at an all time high. In response I secluded myself and kept away from the public eye, in truth I did nothing different from my normal schedule. And that was good enough, their misplaced interest would disappear soon enough.

Not that they had much choice. Once the distraction that the festivities offered passed we would be thrown in the full troughs of college examinations and applications. Any person with a crease in their brain would prioritize their education. If there were any that didn't, I would genuinely feel bad for them.

Also in recent developments I saw Jonathan a lot less these days. It was a welcome change. I gazed out the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in golden hues like honey on a lake. The picturesque ambiance would have been more enjoyable if I wasn't being screamed at.

"This is not what I ordered. I said strawberry toppings and mango puree. Call your manager, call them right now.... Are you deaf, aren't you listening..," This woman had been screaming for over a minute now, I did my best to explain and calm her down but I could hardly get a word in. "Listen to me when I talk to you boy. Fucking speak, it's always the unruly teenager." She brought her hand down on the table. It's contents shook and her drink spilled.

Her eyes widened and her face turned bright red. Her finger was pointed straight at my eyes, "Are you blind as well. Can't you see that my drink spilled. Clean it up, do it now." My eyes wavered to the table, assessing, summing up the patience I needed to deal with her.

"I'll clean it up ma'am..... Eventually.." She reached for my collar, but stopped herself. Her hands curled tight in on themselves, mimicking the strangling motion she wanted to make.

"So you are messing with me now, aren't you? So help me God. Once I'm done with you, you'll leave today without a job." I seriously doubted that, she seemed convinced that she had that power though.

"Try and calm down ma'am. I did get your order right. Here's the order you made and the receipt." I handed her the order, I pulled it from the kitchen while no one was looking. "Perhaps you forgot, a small lapse in memory ma'am." She didn't bother to look at the receipt. She scrunched it up and seethed, it looked like this would not end anytime soon.

"Call your manager now. Did you hear me, now!!!"

"That won't be possible. The manager stepped out minutes ago. She will be unavailable for some..." Just them Mrs Alba walked into the store. She froze at the entry way, taking a moment to assess the situation. Her eyes darted to the soiled table, the red-faced middle aged woman and finally to my pathetic form taking the brunt of her assault.

"Is there a problem ma'am." She had a neutral professional smile plastered on her face. She put herself between us, subbing-in and ready to defuse the woman.

"Yes there is a problem. This moron you call an employee messed up my order, spilled my drink and is being very rude to me. He won't even clean up." She spat in Mrs Alba's face, all the while still pointing violently at me.

Mrs Alba turned to me, the unsaid question clear in her gaze. I shook my head denying the accusations. She turned back to the woman. Her smile had wavered a bit, but it was still professional and polite.

"I'm very for the inconvenience. I'm sure it was just miscommunication. I'll handle the order and show you to a new table." Mrs Alba was very accommodating, willing to serve her again despite her rude behavior. Unfortunately it didn't seem like the woman was satisfied with the grace she was shown.

"No! You think your cheap dishes are enough. No, I want that boy punished. That rude little shit thinks he can get away with it. Listen lady, if you want your little shop to see tomorrow you'll sack that boy right now." Not only did she insult the desserts I spent my time making, she also insulted the cafe and it's owner.

Sometimes it was just so hard to remain civil. So hard. If only this woman knew how easy it was for me to dispose of her, snap a bone or sever a nerve would she be different? Would it change her attitude? Maybe, but I wasn't privy to that option. Not now, she wasn't deserving.

"Please ma'am try to calm down. I'll make you another order to your specifications. Whatever the issue, it doesn't warrant me firing my employee," She paused and looked back. "Luke I'm sorry. Do you mind helping me clean this up while I deal with this."

"Who do you think you are? Do you know who I am, do you know who my husband is? Listen to me very carefully, if I spread the word of your horrible service you'll never make a dime again." I watched the drink drip down on the floor. The mop and bucket were already ready, just a thought and they would be in my grasp. Mrs Alba sighed, clearly fed up.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The woman reeled back, clearly shocked that her threats made no impact. What followed was another shouting match while we coerced the woman into leaving the store.

"I won't forget this, you hear me I will not forget. One day, give me one day...." Mrs Alba shut the door in her face silencing her grating screams. I watched her board her car, slamming the door with an unnecessary amount of force and accelerating at concerning speed. I sighed and got to work cleaning the table.

"I'm so sorry everyone. Please get back to your meals. Again I apologise for the commotion." Mrs Alba gave a heartfelt apology to the other customers that had to eat through the ramble. Especially the old gentleman that helped us escort her out. I'd gift him a slice of cake for his efforts.

I picked up the bucket and began scrubbing. 'What a waste.' Honestly why are some people like this. This wasn't my first time experiencing such vile behaviour. But it was the first time I was directly involved. Usually I would watch from the kitchen as Mrs Alba tried to appease very volatile and impatient customers.

In those moments I was overcome with temptation. It would be so painfully easy to reach out with my mind and cause irreversible damage or just ruin their day with a not so fun prank. At the end it was just an intrusive thought in one the many facsimiles of my mind.

But fleeting thoughts were dangerous. One moment you could be smiling, doing your best to keep your calm and in the next your are driving your fist into their pitiful faces. Not that I had ever done such a thing. 'Jonathan doesn't count, he was given sufficient warning.'

***

It was almost time to close up shop. The last of the customers were finishing up their meals. I stood at the corner with a broom under my chin, waiting for them to finish. One lady saw and started rushing her meal. I smiled at her, encouraging her to take her time. I had time, lots of time.

No, not much time. Very little, my anxiety had risen since the excursion. I spent more days at the scrapyard now. It still deeply disturbed, Jonathan had slighted me so easily. He breached my defense like they weren't even there and whispered his insidious thoughts to me. And the worst part, I hadn't sensed anything while he did it. No pressure, no oddities, like he had always been there.

The last person had finished. The shop was empty leaving only me and my broom in the front. I gave the floor a quick sweep and arranged all the chairs.

"Luke can you stay behind for a bit today? I want to speak with you." Mrs Alba's voice rang out from the kitchen stopping me dead in my tracks. I squeamed inside.

"Yes ma'am." Of course I would not be getting away with this unscathed. There would be some repercussions for my actions, because frankly I didn't handle it as best as I should.