Chapter 39

Shoney’s,
Sommeville, WV
11:35 am Eastern Daylight Time,
Thursday, August 6, 1992

“So, Rania, you’re the manager of this Shoney’s. Who would you like to serve?” I asked the Lebanese boss at the restaurant as we began really digging into the buffet.

“You mean other than you?” the Middle Eastern beauty replied with a wink.

“Yes, other than me. Sorry, but at least we can still enjoy each other. I take it that Andre won’t cause any trouble,” I pointed to her husband, a Maronite Christian unlike her Shia Muslim self.

“Anyway, as long as we’re together, that’s all that matters,” Andre smiled now, putting in his own two cents.

“Okay, then. Curtis, these are yours, along with Hassan, her brother, who is the chief cook. Her husband acts as the host, of course. Treat them well. As you can see, they know their food,” I beamed as I ate my chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes with gusto.

“Yeah, I know. I brought you here the first time, kiddo,” Curtis reminded me, making me blush and laugh a little at my short-term memory lapse.

“Touche,” I admitted while Curtis claimed the trio, “your butt really looks nice bare-naked with a red sledgehammer tattoo on it.”

“What, this ol’ thing?” Rania snickered as she wiggled her swarthy bottom, “I look forward to having you hump both holes!”

“That would be rather hot to watch. What about my friend Lina here?” Andre mentioned their newest waitress.

“The Syrian cutie that you’ve been banging right under my nose for weeks now? Don’t tell anyone, but she’s only sixteen, by the way. Not that I’m offended. Andre knows that I’ve screwed my own brother a lot lately. I didn’t use to, but everyone’s kinda broken a little free and wild these days. It’s like my scruples have just ... faded away recently,” Rania giggled as she watched Lina come over to present her booty to Curtis.

“Done and done,” Curtis grinned now as he marked Lina as his.

“Alright, honey, what’s your name?” I admired the hijabi who waited the next table.

“Maryam Sharif,” she spoke gently as she lifted her hijab above her head and raised her skirt to invite Curtis to claim her.

“Damn, this steak is awesome!” I remarked while Erin sat on my lap and I fed her by hand.

“That it is, lover,” Erin told me with a snowball kiss that expressed a lot of passion.

“And now we have you guys. Seventy-eight more folks. What to do with you?” Gavin spoke up again, briefly scaring the last, uninitiated group of locals.

“Who is that?” one of them, a little slower than most, dared to ask me now.

“That, Charla Stone, is Gavin, my spirit guide. You’re a little slow on the uptake there, aren’t you?” I used a phrase that I knew came from the future, realizing that my memory of it began to return in small amounts.

“Hey, I ain’t a retard, you know!” Charla assured me with an oath, even as she bent over in front of me to prove that she wasn’t dumb.

“Okay, you’ve made your point. You go with Sarah. Your friend here also goes with her. What’s your name, babe?” I turned to the other cheerleader who had been doing late summer tryouts.

“Crystal. I’m her sister! Fraternal twin sister! Younger by five minutes!” the sandy honey informed me.

“Excellent. Yep, you both go with Sarah. I’m trying to encourage siblings and other kith and kin to go together, at least one relative when possible. It improves the chances of incest, for one thing. I love incest, just as Gavin does,” I declared, making them snicker now.

“Yeah, well, I can see the appeal lately. Crystal’s ass looks like it’s to die for!” Charla squealed as she knelt behind her sister to bury her head between those soft buns.

“Cute, but I need to get through you to claim you both!” Sarah reminded Charla as she marked them both as hers at last.