Chapter 3
Meeting for the First Time
Six years later, I had graduated from high school and gotten a job as a bartender at a semi-sleazy club called "Joe's," a step up from the position of dishwasher for three years and then as a waitress I'd held previously. I'd saved my money and moved from the rundown shack I once called an apartment building to a nicer one bedroom apartment on the north side of San Fransisco. I had cut my hair to my shoulders soon after moving there, gotten my U.S. citizenship after realizing how great this country is, and was taking two classes at a time at the local community college during the day while working at Joe's during the night.
For the first time in two months, Joe had finally decided to give his most popular bartender, I can do things with drinks you wouldn't believe, a night off.
I was coming out of the shower when the phone rang. I hurried to answer it but just as I got to it, it stopped ringing. The following night, at the same time as before, it rang again. This time I was quick in answering. For a moment there was nothing on the line. Then, as I yelled into the phone about tracing the line and calling the cops, a voice stopped me, a low masculine voice.
"Raye Hino?"
I frowned into the phone. "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."
I was about to hang up the phone when his voice stopped me. "Raye Hino, Sailor Mars. The time is near. Watch for it to come."
"I'm sorry, Raye Hino is dead. Please don't call again," I replied quickly and hung up the phone.
It disturbed me to the point of not being able to sleep that night as I tried to decipher the meaning behind the the strange caller's message. By morning I had come to the conclusion that someone had seen me and had recognized me from the papers years ago and called to get a rise out of me.
Three weeks later I had all but forgotten about the caller and his cryptic message when I was called to the side of the bar. Bill, the night mananger, smirked at me, his cigar hanging loosely between his lips.
"Yeah, Bill?"
He removed the cigar from his lips and pointed in the direction of the tables. "See that blonde over there?" I nodded. "She asked specifically for you."
I put my hands on my hips. "I don't get paid to waitress, Bill. I quit that job a year ago."
"I know, kid, but listen she wants you to wait on her and you alone. Do it for me, kid?"
I sighed. "Alright, but just this once."
"Thanks, kid. Now grab a tray and an order pad and get over there. I'm not paying you good money to stand around and talk."
I grinned. "Oh, Bill, you know I'm your favorite!" I leaned over and kissed the old man's cheek.
"Aw, kid. Don't tell any of the other girls."
I grinned again as a bounced away and grabbed a tray.
"Welcome to Joe's what can I get for you?"
The blonde at the table looked up at me. She looked familiar but I'd had a lot of that over the past six years and I'd learned to ignore it.
"A Coke, please."
I moved to write but froze. That voice, I knew that voice. I might not recognize the face but the voice was hard to forget. I would always know her voice.
"Raye."
I dropped my pen and pad and backed away.
"Raye, it's me."
In my shock I was able to answer, "I know who you are."
She stood. "Then say it. Say who I am. Say it and know that I'm here, I'm finally here."
"Serena." The second I said her name, the moment I acknowledged her presence, a great weight lifted from my shoulders, the weight I'd been carrying for seven years was gone. "Serena," I said again.
Serena smiled. "Hiya, Raye."
"It's been a long time."
"Yes, it has."
"Seven years. Almost eight now."
Serena smiled and hugged me. Knowing that after so long, she was finally there, I was finally able to see and touch her again, I lost control of my emotions.
~Continued~
An: Having been 14 when all this happened would make them all, except Darien of course, 21. Hope you enjoyed. Working on the next chapter as I type this!
Meeting for the First Time
Six years later, I had graduated from high school and gotten a job as a bartender at a semi-sleazy club called "Joe's," a step up from the position of dishwasher for three years and then as a waitress I'd held previously. I'd saved my money and moved from the rundown shack I once called an apartment building to a nicer one bedroom apartment on the north side of San Fransisco. I had cut my hair to my shoulders soon after moving there, gotten my U.S. citizenship after realizing how great this country is, and was taking two classes at a time at the local community college during the day while working at Joe's during the night.
For the first time in two months, Joe had finally decided to give his most popular bartender, I can do things with drinks you wouldn't believe, a night off.
I was coming out of the shower when the phone rang. I hurried to answer it but just as I got to it, it stopped ringing. The following night, at the same time as before, it rang again. This time I was quick in answering. For a moment there was nothing on the line. Then, as I yelled into the phone about tracing the line and calling the cops, a voice stopped me, a low masculine voice.
"Raye Hino?"
I frowned into the phone. "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."
I was about to hang up the phone when his voice stopped me. "Raye Hino, Sailor Mars. The time is near. Watch for it to come."
"I'm sorry, Raye Hino is dead. Please don't call again," I replied quickly and hung up the phone.
It disturbed me to the point of not being able to sleep that night as I tried to decipher the meaning behind the the strange caller's message. By morning I had come to the conclusion that someone had seen me and had recognized me from the papers years ago and called to get a rise out of me.
Three weeks later I had all but forgotten about the caller and his cryptic message when I was called to the side of the bar. Bill, the night mananger, smirked at me, his cigar hanging loosely between his lips.
"Yeah, Bill?"
He removed the cigar from his lips and pointed in the direction of the tables. "See that blonde over there?" I nodded. "She asked specifically for you."
I put my hands on my hips. "I don't get paid to waitress, Bill. I quit that job a year ago."
"I know, kid, but listen she wants you to wait on her and you alone. Do it for me, kid?"
I sighed. "Alright, but just this once."
"Thanks, kid. Now grab a tray and an order pad and get over there. I'm not paying you good money to stand around and talk."
I grinned. "Oh, Bill, you know I'm your favorite!" I leaned over and kissed the old man's cheek.
"Aw, kid. Don't tell any of the other girls."
I grinned again as a bounced away and grabbed a tray.
"Welcome to Joe's what can I get for you?"
The blonde at the table looked up at me. She looked familiar but I'd had a lot of that over the past six years and I'd learned to ignore it.
"A Coke, please."
I moved to write but froze. That voice, I knew that voice. I might not recognize the face but the voice was hard to forget. I would always know her voice.
"Raye."
I dropped my pen and pad and backed away.
"Raye, it's me."
In my shock I was able to answer, "I know who you are."
She stood. "Then say it. Say who I am. Say it and know that I'm here, I'm finally here."
"Serena." The second I said her name, the moment I acknowledged her presence, a great weight lifted from my shoulders, the weight I'd been carrying for seven years was gone. "Serena," I said again.
Serena smiled. "Hiya, Raye."
"It's been a long time."
"Yes, it has."
"Seven years. Almost eight now."
Serena smiled and hugged me. Knowing that after so long, she was finally there, I was finally able to see and touch her again, I lost control of my emotions.
~Continued~
An: Having been 14 when all this happened would make them all, except Darien of course, 21. Hope you enjoyed. Working on the next chapter as I type this!