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“Everything alright?” I ask her.
“Just an unexpected phone call from an old friend, that’s all. We got cut off. I suspect he’ll call back soon enough.” She plasters on a smile that tells me she’d rather I didn’t pursue my line of questioning. I can take a hint.
“Sure thing… I’ve taken payment from Rob’s table,” I say, changing the subject as I hand her the money, including a generous tip.
“Thanks. I can see you’re going to do just fine here,” she remarks, noticing that not only had I served the remaining lunches and dealt with Rob’s bill but also tidied up the dishes he and his crew left behind.
“No sweat. What time do you want me to start Monday?”
“6am too early for you? The boats start heading back in about 7am after their morning catch, and breakfast is always busier than lunch most days.”
“Nope, sounds good to me. I’m an early riser, so it’s really no problem.”
“Perfect.”
“Well, I’ll head off. I need to get back home. Gran hates it when I’m late,” I say, sliding out from behind the counter.
Lola reaches over and hands me a five-pound note. “Your tip,” she explains when I frown at her.
“Oh, no. I didn’t really do anything,” I say, shaking my head.
“Take it before I change my mind,’ she retorts, waving the note in front of me.
“Well, alright then,” I agree, pocketing it.
As I walk away she calls after me. “Make sure you bring your guitar Monday.”
“Really?” I ask, twisting on my feet to face her.
She smiles warmly. “Even if we’re too busy for you to practice in the morning, it’s always quiet in here for an hour or so between breakfast and lunch. Besides, Ma Silva told me that you’re never very far from your guitar and notebook, penning the next big hit. If you become a famous singing sensation then I sure want to be able to say that I helped you to do that. ”
“Gran is a little over enthusiastic.”
“Proud more like. Besides, I love music. I want to hear you sing again, sober this time…Please?” she adds when she notices my hesitation.
I shrug. “Sure, what’s the harm.”
As I walk away, her phone rings once more and I stop at the corner of the café, peering around the side as she steps out of the kitchen door. She’s talking animatedly, her free hand waving about in the air as she speaks. I’ve never seen Lola look angry, but right now she’s furious.
“Malakai, it’s been over a goddamn year. Where thehellhave you been all this time?” Lola whisper-shouts. “I thought you were dead!”
Immediately my skin rises in goosebumps and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up just like they did that fateful day my parents left the island. This time, no amount of rubbing at my skin gets rid of them.
Malakai…
The name sounds oddly familiar but for the life of me I can’t place why. Shaking off a sick sense of foreboding, I make my way back home, wondering how the day could start off feeling so good only to change so drastically with the mention of one name. Little did I know how much the man behind the name would alter my life so irrevocably.
