Chapter 14

A round: One person paying for drinks for everyone in the Antler ... if the drinks were alcoholic? could be expensive.

Surprise put that idea to a stop... “rootbeer for everyone.” She said.

A buck a mug ... thirty six lunch patrons... 36.00 bucks.

I had to pay for my refill. What a rip!

Noon lunch at the Antler ... after the first snow ... but before the monster in November. Most working stiffs ate lunch at the Antler. The reason they did the Antler? The wife always had leftovers ... tuna noodle hot-dish ... or ... green bean casserole ... with cream of mushroom soup and bacon ... or ... canned salmon patties ... leftover.

West Coast Michigan is as far as many drifters get. Timber people and their wives ... many of them from forested Europe ... after the east shore of Lake Michigan ... it’s steppes ... the Great American Desert. The foresters of Europe take a lunch to the woods ... and that’s what their wives know.

But ... The Wendy ... the best reason to eat lunch ‘out.’ Two beef patties, mayonnaise, lettuce, dill pickle, two cheeses, three strips of bacon and a slice of tomato. Taken with HOT slightly overdone French fries and Canada sauce or watered and salted white vinegar and the best home-brewed rootbeer in the state ... lunch is a gastronomic delight.

They might not be lumberjacks ... many of them work at the marina ... but the traditional leftovers? ... everyday? Lunch should be a break from ‘hot-dish.’ At the Antler ... it is.

My phone rang. Mom.

Some calls can go to message.

Mom’s don’t like that.

I picked up and said, “Hello Mom. Where are you?”

!!!

“Tonga?”

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“Nadi?” I said. “Why are you back in Nadi?”

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“Exploring?”

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“Provisioning.”

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“That I understand.” I said, “Where is Daddy?”

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“Ah, Crossroads.”

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“He’s back? Can I speak to him?”

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“Hello? Hello?”

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“Mom ... he was only gone fifteen minutes. Hello? Hello? She hung up.”

I turned to Surprise, “Guess.”

Junior said, “Catching up?”

“Yes ... she has triplets ... why?”