Taste of Heaven

It was a dreary, cold day in February when the two men met for brunch at Sal’s Taste of Heaven on the outskirts of Mortis, Idaho. The diner was located just off the Interstate at the end of an exit. Written high in the sky for all to see and illuminated each night by bright lights was a large billboard. “Hungry? Make Sal’s your final destination. We promise heavenly delight with every bite or your money back”. Unbeknownst to the travelers who stopped for a quick, hot meal, there was a double meaning inscribed in those words. The bitter irony was not lost on the two men just taking their seats that day.

Slowly and methodically, each man removed his gloves and nonchalantly surveyed the room while making meticulous mental notes of the other patrons. Neither man’s face revealed the horrid history imbedded behind the facades. To the casual observer, these were merely two good friends, meeting to shoot the breeze while also enjoying a quick meal.

After long uninterrupted minutes, Derrick finally turned his attention to the man seated across the table from him. “How’s it been going, Frank? Been busy?”

Frank settled himself more comfortably, leaning back in his seat and draping his right arm over the back of the vacant seat next to him before looking up at Derrick.

“Can’t complain. You know how much I enjoy the graveyard shift,” Frank said, his brown eyes turning coal black at the thoughts evoked by his response. “How about you? Any luck on the hunt for a new job these days?”

Derrick leaned forward, clasped his rough hands together on the table in front of him, and gave Frank a wry smile. “You know me, Franko. I can find a job – or two – or three – even in the midst of a hiring freeze. Not to brag but just last month, I had two big ones.” He leaned back in his seat and raised a hand to smooth back his hair, as though well-impressed by his declaration. “And I can assure you I reaped the rewards, my friend,” he added with relish.

Frank gave a laugh that sounded more like a snort of disbelief.

“Ah well, that’s good. I’m glad business is booming.” As if completely unimpressed, he slowly examined the nails on his right hand as he spoke. Once satisfied the nails were free of dirt, he looked up to lock cold, blue eyes with Derrick. “Just be sure you aren’t shopping around for work on my side of town. I can’t have anyone confusing my art work with yours.”

“No worries,” Derrick said with a forced smile. “I know my place.” He longed to smack the shit out of Frank. Such a smug bastard.

The waitress, Eunice, approached the table and without making eye contact with either man, she asked, “What will it be today guys?” She pressed her pen against the small pad, ready to write down their orders.

“My usual, Eunice. A bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich with hashbrowns and a coffee,” Derrick said, his gaze never leaving Frank.

“I’ll have the fried chicken and waffle plate with your world famous funeral potatoes and a cup of black coffee, please, Miss Eunice,” Frank said with concentrated effort in an attempt to secure a glance from the woman standing by their table who never, ever gave them a second glance.

Eunice didn’t miss a beat this time either and continued to chomp her gum, the sound of her jaw popping repeatedly as she turned and headed back to the kitchen. Despite the obvious differences – and preferences - of the two men seated at the table, they both watched her departure with ever observant eyes.

“If I wasn’t so picky, I might be tempted to silence that gum chomping bitch for good,” Frank said with a derisive snarl. “Every damn time….”

“Well, Holy Moly, but aren’t you just the patron saint of our profession?” Derrick laughed and shook his head. “You’re always so bothered by the little things, aren’t you, Franko? Well, just you be sure you don’t forget we agreed not to mix business with pleasure. After all, it would be difficult to find another ideal location for our office meetings.”

“Yeah, I know. Got to let it go,” Frank acknowledged. "At least Eunice is clueless. Hell, I don’t think she knows what we look like even though we’ve been coming here every month for the last seven years,” Frank said.

“Yep,” Derrick agreed, his eyes finding Eunice two tables over. “Still, I’ve got to admit, it is rather tempting……”

Just as promised, the food was served hot and quick minutes later and the two men turned their attention from the waitress to their food.

Holding his sandwich in his right hand, Derrick wiped his mouth with his left, and paused to ask a question. “You wouldn’t happen to have any new pics I could see, would you Franko?”

Clearly irritated, Frank set his drumstick back on the plate and used his napkin to slowly wipe his mouth. He studied Derrick before responding, wondering how the man seated in front of him did what he did and managed to elude the authorities. “You know I don’t ever take pictures while on a job.” He lowered his voice a bit and then added, “No one would call you stupid if you followed my lead.”

Derrick covertly glanced around the diner and then leaned over the table, lowering his voice to a mere whisper. His eyes glowed with excitement and boastfulness, evidencing the thrill to be found in his forthcoming statement. “Well, Franko, the job turned out to be so sweet and damn good last time, I couldn’t resist. Would you like to see?” He tapped the cellphone with his index finger, eager to share his glory.

“Shit!” The word left Frank’s mouth in a soft hiss. Still, despite his irritation with Derrick, Frank couldn’t stem the excitement that coursed through his body at the man’s words. He pondered the possibility behind the offer for only a few seconds. It wouldn’t be like he was viewing photos on his own computer or leaving an evidence trail. Why not enjoy the beauty at someone else’s expense and risk? He just prayed Derrick’s stupidity would not lead back to him when the man was caught, because there was little doubt he would be caught - it was just a question of when. Derrick was a fucking idiot, after all.

“Okay, maybe not….,” Derrick said with a shrug and a sly smile as he reached for his cellphone.

Frank’s hand quickly landed atop the cellphone to halt him. He looked around the room. There was no one seated nearby, so he could definitely take advantage of the opportunity. He looked up and smiled at Derrick, managing a bit of an evil laugh, much like the Joker would. “Hold on there, good buddy. I never said ‘no’, did I? I’d be happy to critique your work.”

Derrick straightened in his seat, clearly self-impressed by his handy work. He slid the phone over to Frank. “Flip it over whenever you’re ready. I’m confidant you won’t be disappointed.”

Casually, Frank picked up his drumstick and began to eat again, attempting to appear as if everything was perfectly normal. He glanced around to ensure his privacy, moved the phone to the side of the table by the wall, and then turned it over. With the first picture, he nearly forgot to breathe. No, he was certainly not disappointed. Scrolling slowly through the gruesome pictures of Derrick’s last job, a raw hunger for something that did not resemble food began to eat away at him. Despite the bond that held the two men together, he couldn’t stand Derrick. Still, looking at these photos, he had to admit the man had a technique - an expertise that Frank had not expected. Transfixed by the sordid photos, he didn’t realize he had completely cleaned the drumstick and was still gnawing on the meatless bone.

“You like all your bones that clean, Franko?” Derrick taunted. Finished with his own meal, he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms in front of him, a confidant swagger exhibited in every move he made. He knew exactly what Frank was thinking and what his body was feeling. Those things were all too familiar for him, too.

Frank looked up as Derrick’s irksome voice intruded into his slice of heaven. He quickly flipped the phone back over on the table. Irritated by more than what Derrick had said, he dropped the drumstick onto the empty plate and then wiped his mouth. Slowly, he took a swallow of steaming coffee before he nodded at Derrick. “I see you’re no novice.”

Derrick threw back his head and let out a big belly laugh. He picked up the phone and carefully pocketed it. “I guess that’s as close to a compliment as I’m going to get from you, Franko.”

Frank stared into his black coffee for a long minute before he looked back at Derrick. The look in his ice blue eyes would have sent a shudder down the spine of the devil himself. “I’ll admit your pics aren’t bad, Derrick, but maybe we should up the ante a bit. You know, challenge ourselves to strive for something even greater. I’m wondering which of us could be the most creative or have the highest number of jobs this month. It could be interesting, that's for sure. Loser would end up having to pay for brunch for the next year.”

Derrick’s face displayed a smile as old as time, first born in the Garden of Eden. He reached out to shake Frank’s hand, accepting the gauntlet, thoroughly convinced of his own freakish abilities. “This means you’ll have to bring proof of your work next time. I’ll look forward to it.”

Reluctant and yet overwhelmed with a desire to knock Derrick off his high horse, Frank accepted the outstretched hand, squeezing it hard to seal the deal. “Great. Feel free to leave first and don’t forget your phone. I’ll pay the bill today since I know you’ll be the one buying next month.”

“Time will tell because our finished work won’t be doing the talking, that’s for sure,” Derrick gave a snort, pushed his plate to the center of the table, rose, and left without looking back.

Frank watched Derrick leave, exhaling a pent up, deep-seated sigh, fueled by a mixture of irritation and frustration. What had he just done by initiating a war of death? Still, he knew he was up to the challenge. He glanced down at his hands, clasping them together tightly to keep them from shaking. Those damn alluring, beautiful pictures. His gut had been ablaze with a growing fire ever since he’d seen them. He looked out the window and watched Derrick’s car leave a dust trail as he drove off and mentally cursed both Derrick and his photos.

Nervously, Frank’s leg shook repeatedly beneath the table as he turned and surveyed the nearly empty room. Brunch was over and the diner would be deserted until later that afternoon. He leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, attempting to calm the anxiety and eagerness of his self-induced situation. He must fight for control. He was usually so calm and strategic, not making a careless move or exhibiting any real emotion, but the pictures, along with the proposed challenge, were rattling him. He felt famished, ready to ravish. He was infinitely hungry for the thrill of the hunt and the final satisfaction found in the act.

Slowly, Frank opened his eyes. His gaze immediately drifted across the room and fell on Eunice. She was removing her apron, putting on her coat, and grabbing her purse from beneath the register. Was she leaving? Bingo. He watched her exit the diner and then quickly rose from his seat, carelessly throwing a $50 bill on the table. With a surety of evil driven purpose, he moved toward the door, his eyes never leaving Eunice’s retreating figure.

Fortune was on his side today. While it was only noon, the day was young and the opportunities were ripe for the picking. Despite their so-called agreement, he knew Derrick would never know what he was about to do – the moron was as clueless as poor Eunice. Yes, he had a challenge to win, and there was no time to start winning like the present. Carpe diem.