Picking up his copy of the Toledo News, Abe Roseman re-read the review he'd earlier circled. 'The restaurant is sited in a rather unassuming converted store that's quite easy to miss. However, the interior will remind visitors of the barren landscapes of Central Asia. The decor allows the unusual, novel flavours of the food to really shine, though the cuisine isn't the only thing bringing folks to Leng's. The restaurant buzzed with excited energy and was comfortably full with satisfied patrons.'
The review went on to praise the attentive staff before discussing the unusual foods. Abe leaned back in his executive leather chair and looked out the window. From his office, he had a fine view over the Maumee River and traffic crossing the Skyway bridge itself. Sighing, he turned back to the task in hand. Deciding where to take his partner, Julia, on the first anniversary of their first date.
After that review, he was tempted by Leng's. New restaurants in Toledo, Ohio, were not unusual for a city of over three hundred thousand. Restaurants, diners and fast-food franchises came and went regularly, serving the needs of Toledo's residents.
Reading on, the columnist commented on the unusual and interesting food she couldn't identify – unlike the more familiar Szechuan, Cantonese or even Mongolian food. The only negative comment was that she was piqued that the restaurant wouldn't provide details as to the food's provenance. Also, she said the wine labels were written in a foreign script with no translation provided. She did mention that it was rich and heavy and complemented the food.
Perhaps it wasn't the most glowing review she'd ever written but Leng's sounded different, somewhere unusual that Julia might appreciate. She had been moaning recently about always doing the same old things and going the same old places. Well, this restaurant might get them out of a rut.
Sitting behind his desk, Abe Roseman swiveled around again in his executive chair and admired the view from his fifteenth floor office window. If he sat at the correct angle and tilted his head, he could just see Lake Erie in the distance. On a sunny day like today, the water sparkled and glinted. A power-boat raced over the waves and out on the horizon a container ship hauled freight towards Lake Ontario and the St Lawrence river. He loved his office – one of the perks of working for this practice.
Abe's girlfriend, Julia, loved Chinese food and as their first anniversary – and first proper kiss for that matter – was coming up, he thought he'd book a table. It should earn him a few brownie points for later. Heh, heh, he grinned to himself.
Checking Leng's details on the Internet, Abe picked up the phone to make a reservation. Normally, he'd ask his secretary, Rita, to make the booking but that woman couldn't keep a secret. If Julia called the office, Rita would spill the beans for sure. Not that he should need to book on a Tuesday night, he thought as he keyed in the number. But you can never be too sure – and covering all the bases was one of the traits that had got him where he was. On the way to making full partner within the next five years or so.
At the other end, the phone rang out. And rang out. And rang out.
"C'mon, pick up the phone. I'm trying to give you money here," he muttered. For a moment, he thought about his Dad who'd served in Vietnam. As well as picking up a Purple Heart for a shrapnel wound in his thigh, his old man had come back with a biting hatred of 'gooks'. There was no way his Dad would ever eat in a place called Leng. Burger and fries at roadside diners or a steakhouse if he was pushing the boat out. That was more his Dad's scene.
"C'mon, c'mon," Abe muttered again. He'd give it another thirty seconds, no more, and then he'd give up and book a table at the 'Golden Palace' instead. That was a good restaurant on the lake front with a well-chosen menu and Julia always liked eating there. They were regulars, after all, the staff knew them and they got attentive service. However, he'd like to surprise her and take her somewhere different for a change.
"Leng's," a man's voice said. It was heavily accented but he couldn't place it. It didn't sound Chinese, Korean or even Vietnamese. For an instant, Abe was tempted to slam down the phone as the voice sounded – well, evil was the word that came to mind. It sounded hollow and inhuman as if it came from some different sphere of reality. Abe shivered.
"Leng's," the other man said again.
"Can I book a table? For Tuesday, please," Abe found himself saying.
He heard the sound of pages being turned. As an attorney, Abe knew the sound paper makes better than most. Yet this sounded more like vellum – pages made of skin. Where had that notion come from?
"For what time, sir?"
Once again, Abe was tempted to call the whole thing off. Go to the 'Golden Palace' instead – he would be on safe ground there. Instead he found himself saying, "Eight, please."
There was an interminable silence and Abe thought of the phone line stretching through incredible gulfs of time and space, as if the restaurant was not of this earth – or even this universe. And where had that notion come from? Abe rubbed his forehead, trying to dispel an imminent headache.
Sometimes, it felt like he was cracking up. For sure, he had several big cases on and it felt like he was juggling too many balls in the air. He'd been working hard lately, too hard perhaps, trying to make a good impression. After he'd cleared his desk, he'd take a few days leave and persuade Julia to do the same. Then they'd fly to Chicago, book a top hotel, take in some culture and they could forget all their pressures.
The voice came back. "Eight is fine, sir. Table for two?"
"Yes, thanks," Abe said, now eager to finish this conversation.
The man took his name, said goodbye and Abe dropped the phone onto its cradle. He sat back in his black swivel chair and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. Why had he been so affected by a simple call?
"Snap out of it," he told himself. Sure, as an associate lawyer, he felt like an overworked character in a John Grisham novel but it wouldn't do to let stress affect him like this. Before you knew it, office gossip would spread its tentacles – where had that image come from? – and the old guys who were the senior partners would start wondering about his fitness to practice. From there, it was the start of a slippery slope to the exit. Then he'd end up working for peanuts for some low-rent outfit defending shoplifters, street hoodlums and gang-bangers. No, not for him.
Making a note of the reservation in his diary, Abe pushed the disturbing voice from his mind and picked up Mr. Dyer's appeal against the city's zoning resrictions. Within minutes, he'd pushed the conversation to the back of his mind.
Tuesday came. Abe hurried back to his office from court. Fortunately Judge McGaskill always finished on time. Rumors that as soon as court cleared, the old Judge would hit the bottle were completely unfounded. At least, Abe took no notice of them. He looked at the blinking light on his answering machine, the files that clogged his in-tray, a slew of post-it notes on his desk pad. Usually, he'd be hard at work for another three hours plus.
But not tonight. No way. The partners wouldn't mind once if he left the building at what most workers would consider the end of a working day. All the same, Abe felt like a truanting schoolboy as he took the elevator down and sneaked out the lobby. Heart in his mouth, half expecting to hear someone shout, "Roseman – where do you think you're going?" he passed through the revolving doors and out onto the sidewalk.
He looked up. "Wow. It's still light." It was rare that he got away before dark at this time of year. The sun was still shining although clouds were banking up in the west. Climbing into his red Toyota Camry, he pulled out of his parking space and headed home. That was one of the disadvantages of leaving at the same time as everyone else. The traffic was much heavier than he was used to.
Arriving at their new-build home in the upmarket suburb of Perrysburg, he saw Julia's Ford Focus on the driveway. Abe grinned, glad that she had managed to get away from her job in the University Hospital's finance department. He let himself in and immediately their little black and white cat, Oreo, appeared from out her favorite place – a sunny patch under the window – and wrapped herself around his legs. She was purring. Abe had bought Oreo as a kitten for Julia but Oreo had formed a stronger attraction for Abe than Julia. Deep down, he was pleased by that.
"Cupboard love, that's all it is," he said, reaching down and stroking the cat on her head. However, he knew it was more than that. Oreo definitely felt affection for him and would curl up on his lap when they watched TV. Crossing to the kitchen, he poured more food into her bowl and topped up her water. "We're going out tonight. Look after the place for us," he told the cat. Oreo glanced up at his voice, seeming to listen, but then returned to her food.
Leaving the kitchen, he ran upstairs to find Julia sitting at her dressing table putting on the finishing touches to her make-up. Not for the first time, Abe realized he was punching above his weight, as the saying has it. In the mirror, he saw Julia's Mediterranean good looks, showing her Spanish / Moroccan Sephardic ancestry, reflected back at him. She had dark, curly hair, sloe-eyes of the darkest chocolate-brown, skin that tanned easily whenever she caught the sun, and full rose-red lips. She wore a low-cut little black dress Abe had never seen before. For a moment, he wondered how much that cost. Worth it though as tonight she looked like a Hollywood A-lister.
"Give me a hand with this," Julia said, holding up a gold chain-link necklace.
Crossing their bedroom, Abe draped the chain around her neck. The Star of David pendant fell between the swell of her rounded breasts. From his viewpoint, it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra which made him feel like ripping her dress off with his teeth, picking her up and throwing her bodily onto their King Size bed. Instead, holding back his urges, he leaned forward and kissed her neck.
"I bought you these," he said, handing his wife a bouquet he'd picked up at the filling station on the way home.
Julia sniffed the red roses before kissing him. "How romantic. Ah, the delightful scent of flowers mixed with gasoline. Just what every girl loves most." She was smiling as she said that.
"You know me too well," Abe grinned, blushing. "Anyway, Leng's should be something different."
Abe snatched a quick shower before putting on his favorite dark blue shirt and a lightweight suit. Sucking in his gut, he glanced at himself in the mirror. Even Abe had to admit that he didn't look like Tom Cruise in the movie 'The Firm'. He could do with losing a few pounds and finding time to work out some. It was just so difficult with all the hours he put in at work. Rubbing his head, it felt like that thin spot up top was getting larger. But his eyes were still kind although there were more wrinkles around them than a few months ago. However, Julia loved him as he was.
"Shall I drive?" he asked, tossing the keys from hand to hand. He didn't enjoy alcohol that much so it was no hardship.
"Thanks," she said before drawing him close and kissing him on the mouth. With another little smile she took a Kleenex from the box and wiped away lipstick from his lips.
They got into his Camry and he turned right out of Glenwood Avenue, heading towards town. Swinging away from downtown where most bars and restaurants were located, he turned north onto I-75. As always, the interstate was busy. He got a raised eyebrow from his wife.
"It's out of town a little ways," he said, crossing over a few more junctions. Away from downtown's bustle, traffic thinned and the area became poorer, the houses older and more run-down. They passed a cheap diner with hand-written specials posted in the windows. Next to it stood a thrift store with a few haggard people loitering outside smoking. Julia spotted a furtive transaction by a battered pick-up. A quick touch of hands, that's all, but it was enough.
"Nice place you're taking me. I'm sure that was a drug deal I just saw," she said.
"Want me to swing back and get you some?" Abe grinned, trying to make a joke of it. Like his wife, he didn't come to this part of the city much. Since the riots, back in the 1980s, this area had gone downhill as good families had left to be replaced by a floating population of transients, low-skilled immigrants and ex-cons. However, City Hall had recently decided to stop the rot and was spending tax dollars on regenerating the area around Shoreland Avenue.
In both Abe's and Julia's view, there was still a long way to go.
Then Leng's came into view. The restaurant itself was a gray cinder-block building standing by itself on seeming acres of empty land. The walls had been painted black and the windows shuttered. In the distance, a cluster of trailers huddled together. Part of the land near to Leng's had been roughly concreted to make a parking lot which was surrounded by a chain-link fence. Trapped plastic bags fluttered in the wind like the crude flags of a barbarian army.
The rest of the cleared land was strewn with broken bricks, bottles, trash and builder's rubble. Under gray skies, it looked a depressing, desolate, scene. Driving over a bumpy, pot-holed track to the parking lot, he saw Julia shiver. For a moment, he thought about turning round and heading back into town as he knew they'd find somewhere open that looked more welcoming than Leng's. Hell, even McDonald's looked more promising.
However, they were here now. Putting the Camry in park, he turned off the engine. In the silence as they got out, they heard wind whining over the derelict – plain. Where had that idea come from, Abe wondered. It wasn't a plain, merely an empty parking lot on the edge of town.
Taking Julia's arm, Abe supported her over the rough ground. She wore heels, making her almost as tall as himself, but they didn't help her stability. To one side of the lot was a realtor's sign board giving details of a proposed furniture store. Somebody had sprayed the word 'Tsathoggua' over the sign in blood-red letters. Julia shivered again and snuggled closer to him, making Abe feel more macho. All the same, that word struck him as sinister somehow.
"Probably some Death Metal band?" Abe guessed.