Laura was obviously impressed. “Wow.” “See? You might even like their filet of materialist flambe.” “Not funny. There sure are a lot of them here.” That was true. A dozen or so men, women and children in quilted pseudo-army garb were sprinkled behind the bar counter, around the kitchen door, and about the fire. Apparently, the Kingdom Restaurant doubled as a hangout for its owners.
One of the women approached us, smiling pleasantly, and led us to a booth off to the side. Walking in her wake, I noticed an odd but not wholly unpleasant scent wafting behind her, some complex mixture of things herbal and animal, including a subtle dollop of old-fashioned body odor. Laura followed me so closely, she stepped on my heels. The waitress indicated a small slate on the table, with elegant chalk writing on it, propped against the wall. “That is your menu. Our meals are made from our own products, grown or raised on our own land, and prepared daily. I’ll give you a few minutes to get settled; would you like anything non-alcoholic from the bar in the meantime? We have a wide variety of fruit juices, natural sodas, and sparkling and nonsparkling waters.” I looked at Laura, who was slowly peeling off her down windbreaker like a reluctant warrior shedding his armor in the face of the enemy. “Want anything?” She looked from the waitress to me.
“Coke?” %153 “I’m sorry, we don’t carry Coke, but we do have something like “Okay,” she said doubtfully, and slid into the booth. “I’ll have one, too,” I said as I took off my coat and hung it on e hook by the booth. The waitress went off to fulfill our order. “So far so good.
They haven’t asked us to step into a huge stew yet.” She gave me an exasperated look. “All right, I’m a little nervous.” I reached out and patted her hand. “I’m glad you suggested this.
occurred to me I was criticizing the people at Gorman’s meeting for getting to know the Order, when I was guilty of the same thing.” She looked around. “It is a nice looking place.” She was wearing ery pretty, close-fitting, V-necked blouse. Her throat was bare and r smooth, pale skin ran uninterrupted to the edges of her collar, to ere the first button rested like a medal on her chest. It was startling realize that this was the first relaxed, social moment I’d had since rrived in Gannet.
The waitress returned with a couple of glasses and two cans of bert Corr’s Cola. I quickly glanced at the menu and ordered the least re thing I could find, chili, with a side order of ketchup. Laura settled lemon chicken.
After the waitress left again, Laura looked at her drink suspiusly.
“It’s a national brand. I’ve seen it around.” She sipped gingerly.
“So?” “Not bad.” I decided to ply her for a little more information about the Order. hat was it like when they first came to town?” I indicated the people ound us with my eyes.
“Kind of exciting, in a way. Sarris made a point of being friendly.
ey paid top dollar for the buildings and the farm. People were saying might be a good thing, give the town a shot in the arm, but that was wishful thinking. I remember Greta saying she’d benefit from the siness this restaurant pulled in. Overflow, she called it. Can you agine that? She must’ve been dreaming. No one in their right mind uld come to this town to eat at the Rocky River, especially the tlanders.” I already knew that the backbone of the Kingdom Restaurant was mailorder business. With that as an extra source of income, Greta’s ancial outlook looked doubly doomed. “Did anyone try to roll out e welcome mat for the Order?” She shook her head. “People talk about it now, but no one really %154 went out of their way. I don’t think it would have worked anyway.
Sarris brought his group up here to get away from the locals. The Northeast Kingdom isn’t exactly famous for its hospitality, and I think that suited him.” “Where do they grow their food?” “North of town.
There’s a dirt road called McCallister’s Road. It leads to an old farm-” “Which used to be called McCallister’s Farm. I remember.” She laughed.
“Right. It was abandoned when they bought it, but they’ve done a lot with it. It’s in full production now, or so everyone says.” “Who’s ‘everyone’?” “Oh, other farmers around. Early on, the Order asked surrounding farmers how to work the land. They wanted to know how Vermont farming differed from down south. They paid well, so people were happy to help.
But there’s been less contact lately, now that they know what they’re doing. In fact, they have several advantages over the local farmers.”
“How so?” “Well, they don’t use any middlemen, the mortgage is paid on the farm, they don’t use any power machinery, and the farm hands work for free and there’re a lot of them, too.” “Any resentment from the locals?” “Some, I guess. It’s not really the same market-these people avoid the mainstream-but still, some of them feel the cult’s setting a bad example. Same as with the townspeople; at first, they were well paid, then the money handouts stopped.” She took a swallow of her drink.
During the pause in conversation, I thought I could hear sounds from the seashore, mixed with rain. I looked around, trying to locate the source, and found it leaking from a loudspeaker high in one corner-“natural” Muzak.
“How do you know so much about this?” “My father and father-in-law are farmers,” she said shortly. I watched her swirling the ice cubes around ill her glass, her eyes on the tiny whirlpool. Her tone had revealed as much as her brevity on the subject.
Their life was not to be hers. Apparently, however, that’s where her determination had run out; she knew what she didn’t want but had no alternatives. Our waitress returned bearing our meals, her smile still in place. I focused on her more carefully as she placed the dishes before us. “That was fast.” “Well, we’re not too busy, and a lot of the ingredients are prepared ahead of time.” %155 “You work in the restaurant full-time, or do you do other ings?” She looked at me closely then, her smile fading just around the ges.
“We all work at everything: It’s a sharing community where all e equal.”
“So you all get to know each other pretty well, I guess.” She looked at me as if I’d suddenly lapsed into Arabic. “You ever meet Julie Wingate?” She looked over her shoulder nervously. A man at the bar, watchus, came over to our table. The waitress faded away as he drew up.
an I help you?” The tone of voice was neutral, but I found the uence unsettling.
“No, not really.” “I got the impression you were asking your waitress questions she uldn’t answer.” “I don’t know if she could or not; she didn’t.” “That could be because she knows who you are, Mr. Gunther.”
“Ah, very flattering.” “I’m glad you think so. Well, if there’s nothing I can do, I’ll let u enjoy your meal.” “You know, we’re trying to protect you as much as anyone else; don’t want to see any more of you hurt or killed.” He smiled. “What you want is irrelevant to us.” He turned his ck and returned to the bar. There was a prolonged silence after he left. “Maybe this was a bad a,” Laura finally said.
I poured ketchup into the chili, crumbled some crackers over the p, and stirred it all together. It tasted pretty bland-Tabasco might ve helped. “Hell with ‘em-food’s good.” She looked doubtful, but cut off a piece of chicken and ate. “Good?” She stared at my bowl. I was adding salt and pepper. “Mine’s fine.
hat are you doing?” “Spicing it up a bit.” She had the kindness to keep quiet. I didn’t really mind; my eating bits were legendary in some circles and I’d already survived a lifetime harassment. More important, it had taken Laura’s mind off her dden discomfort at being here.
“So,” I said after a few spoonfuls, “have you decided what to do out you and Tommy?” She chewed a while longer before answering. Then she put down r fork. “I don’t think I have your courage.” “Courage?” I was disturbed by her choice of words. Her view of %156 me, I’d come to realize, needed a good dose of reality, something a l,e’l”5c’n llkp Gail we1in be 9n e’soI’ert at alm1’riisteri”I~~ “You can live alone; you can come up here and do this job, with people you don’t know; you can handle yourself in tough situations and not have it faze you. I don’t think I could be that way.” “That probably makes me callous, not courageous.”