An
Excerpt from The Resurrection of Captain Eternity by Diana Laurence writing
as Diana Lau
Maria has learned that her childhood crush, an actor named Fritz (fka "Captain Eternity"), works at a local restaurant when he is not doing community theater. By coincidence, her boyfriend Robert takes her to the restaurant for her birthday...
I had resolved to act natural at the Marina, none of this glancing around, trying to peek in the kitchen and so on. If Robert was kind enough to take me there, he deserved my undivided attention.
The maitre d' led us to a table by the window overlooking the lake. He held my chair for me; I lowered myself onto the gorgeous velvet seat and slipped my legs under the cool white linen of the tablecloth. Our waiter would be there in a moment, we were told. I tried to relax. Robert smiled at me across the table; we admired the flowers. Only a few seconds passed and from the corner of my eye I saw the approach of someone in black and white, a classic waiter's vest--
"Good evening, my name is Scott and I'll be your waiter this evening."
I released my breath.
We took our menus, listened to the specials for the evening, ordered cocktails.
The food sounded fabulous; certainly the prices were. For my appetizer I selected a baked brie in almond pastry...that was an easy choice. But as for entrees--who could decide? I had narrowed it down to the shrimp scampi or the tournadoes with paté and looked up at Robert--
--at the table beyond him, handing menus to an older couple, was Captain Eternity.
I choked. I looked down at my menu. The next table! Not now, now was the time to make up my mind about shrimp or beef...shrimp or beef...perhaps by the time I had decided he would be gone and I would have a chance to collect myself. I wasn't sure my stomach could take the beef, the shrimp would be lighter. But it would be rich. By now he was probably gone. If I looked up and he weren't and Robert saw my face--
I looked up. He was still there. This hairstyle suited him better--the shock of bangs was gone and he wore his hair long, brushed back and tied in a short pigtail; it set off his bone structure beautifully. There was an earring, a spark of gold, in the ear which faced me. He didn't look as old as he had to be--how old was that?--but now, closer, the stage makeup gone, I could see the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Wrinkles, too, became him...
"Maria?"
I focused on Robert,
"Yes?"
He took a quick
glance over his shoulder, absently checking to see what had caught my eye, and
just as quickly lost interest and looked back at me. "Have you decided?
I'm having a terrible time."
"The shrimp
scampi, I think. And I'm going to start with the brie. I shall end up utterly
stuffed, if you don't mind."
"That's the
idea. Hmmm..." He looked down at the menu again.
I looked back
at the Captain. I could barely hear him; he was answering questions about the
specials. His bearing was wonderful; he stood straight, leaning forward a little,
one curled hand pressed to the small of his back. He looked as if nothing in
the room could possibly merit more attention than the two people he was serving.
"I really
am in the mood for seafood," said Robert, not looking up.
I stole one more
glance at the Captain; to my dismay he was at that moment turning to leave the
other table, turning and facing me--and our eyes met. For an instant I tried
to decide whether to smile or to look away; for the same instant he seemed to
be puzzling over why I was staring, or who I was. At any rate it was at least
two full seconds before either of us broke contact, and by that time the color
of his eyes seemed burned into my retinas and I felt my face flush crimson.
"That scallops
special, I think," said Robert with conviction, and closed his menu.
"That did
sound good," I replied.
It was, without
doubt, the strangest dinner of my life. In fact, the only occasion I could think
of which possibly matched it for strangeness was, ironically, the time I had
tried to keep the conversation going with Vince while Robert was making his
tongues-and-thighs speech. Fortunately Robert seemed oblivious to my distraction.
The Captain appeared
to know this neighboring couple fairly well--I heard the gentleman call him
"Fritz" in a familiar way, and although he usually came and went unobtrusively,
several times he was encouraged to converse. I enjoyed one particular exchange:
the Captain said something with a slight smile--then the woman laughed, her
husband joined in, and finally the polite smile of their waiter also cracked
into laughter.
When I excused
myself to go to the ladies room, I passed two other Marina employees in tense
exchange. As I passed, the waitress was saying to the waiter, "Ask Fritz--he's
the one to see when Weston's not available." I added "authority figure"
to my list of the man's attributes.
Later, during
dessert, Robert lifted a forkful of black forest torte to his mouth and said,
"Say, Maria--you never told me what you thought of 'The Fantasticks.' How
was it?"
I swallowed. "Oh--excellent.
Wonderful." There was no sign of our neighbors' waiter, so I went on, daringly,
"The man who played El Gallo was fabulous."
"Sorry I
missed it."
"Me too."
Then I happened
to spot the familiar figure across the room, near the far wall. I cast my eyes
at him. His left arm was bent across his chest, a platform upon which he rested
his right elbow; he pressed one finger to his lips in a pondering gesture. I
would have sworn he was staring at me, squinting.
How I hoped he
couldn't read lips.