V
As the car finally found a parking space at the Edwards AFB McDonald's, Meg knew it was going to be a long wait before they would get anything.
"Wow!" Joan covered her eyes from the glaring pre-noon sun. "I guess we weren't the only people to come here, huh?"
"I guess not." Meg mumbled as she untangled herself from the back seat. "Took us long enough to find a parking space."
"Well." Joan started walking. "Since this is close to the airfield, I'm not surprised."
As the three walked into the fast food restaurant, they were met with a sound like that of buzzing flies. People pushed through them to leave the building, and the building inside was jam-packed with people of all ages, shouting, screaming, and crying. There were children who flung their Happy Meal toys on the floor, and their admonishing parents. There were seniors there for the sake of their daily routine, talking of the good old times and gossip, their coffees cold from neglect.
"Hi." Meg came up to the counter, only to be met by the dense babbling of one of the teenage workers. "Welcome to McDonald's. Can I take your order?"
".Yes." Meg replied curtly. "Coffee."
"Anything else?"
"Coffee. Black."
"Total is 50 cents."
Mumbling several choice words towards the dense teen, Meg took the coffee, threw the two quarters at him and sat down at a table that opened up by the window. She had to slide in carefully, lest she get bubble gum from under the table onto her pants.
"@#%$ stupid kid.." She muttered as she opened the plastic flask. The coffee inside was brown. "I said black, you idiot."
She had every reason to go over and give the crack addict a piece of her mind; however, she decided that it was a waste of her collective time and started to take off her new jacket. As she did this, she paused mid-action.
...How strange..
A strange feeling, a cold sensation, seeped into the skin not covered by the jacket. It caused her skin to prickle, and Meg herself, for no particular reason, shuddered. It wasn't that Meg was one to really shy away from cold; she had lived half of her life in a place that got, on average, several days of sub-zero weather and hundreds of feet of snow. Nor was the McDonalds air-conditioned to freezing point; actually, it was not very cold at all. Yet Meg felt compelled to put the jacket back on.
"What the hell...damn..idiots," she muttered as she put it back on. Upon it returning over her arms, the sensation of comfort came back, and with it, the sensation of safety as well.
"Hey there!"
Meg looked up to see Joan approaching the table. In her hands was a tray of lunchtime food - a Big Mac, two fries and two Coca Colas. Over her head sailed a paper ball, which landed on Meg's table.
"Gregory Wilson!" The annoying scream of a little boy filled Meg's ears as the mother took him up. "I think its time for us to go."
"Nooooooo! Waaaaaah!"
The little boy kicked and screamed as Meg watched him get dragged off. With a smirk, Meg took a small sip of her unwanted coffee, taking pleasure from the little brat's predicament.
"This is why I didn't have kids.."
"Incredible, I should say. This place is crowded!" Joan sat down with a chuckle. "We still have a good two hours before the air show actually starts, so this McDonalds is a good place to rest."
"I'm sure." Meg put her cup of coffee back down onto the table. "So, where's your friend?"
"The bathroom. There's a line."
"Oh."
For a moment, not a word was exchanged between the two women. The obvious awkwardness was mostly Meg's fault; she was still not used to the Japanese woman, nor was she too keen on knowing the bubbly professor.
"Well!" Joan broke the silence. "This is some crappy food here, no?"
".Yeah. I asked for black coffee." Meg closed the flask on the cup. "So...who is this Naoto guy with you now? What does he do?"
"Oh, a friend of a friend..of a friend," Joan smiled. "He's an developmental artist from Tokyo. He works
a software company designing video games."
"Heh. Video games." Meg sniffed. "Just the thing to rot children's minds nowadays. Rock music and pinball we can live with, huh?"
"Heh." Joan shrugged. "He's been going around various venues around San Francisco and the Bay Area, trying to get some ideas."
"Ideas?"
"He's got to come up with a mascot for the company. Well." Joan chuckled. "He doesn't have to, but he's been working with a game designer to try to get a commission from the company to make a video game mascot to rival The Super Mario Bros.. He's so far made this wolf, but he has to put some special qualities "
"I heard of them." Meg rolled her eyes. "My sister has the video game system - Nintenny or Nantada or Wakka Wakka or something like that - some company in Japan - She plays it whenever I'm over at her house. The music is incredibly annoying at 2 in the morning."
".You mean Nintendo?" Joan was amused. "Say, where does your sister live? Rome?"
"No..Syracuse, NY."
"Aah..." Joan smiled. "Sorry to get back on it, but I'd really like to know where you got that jacket. Its got the Sonic decal on it."
"..You and Sonic." Meg shook her head. "What is your deal with that?"
"I loved him as a kid. My mom always read them to me." Joan looked out the window. "Every time she read them, I felt safe and happy, because Sonic could do anything. You know, the way all kids feel about their superheroes. That they'll tuck you in at night."
"I never read Sonic."
"Really? A Rome New Yorker that didn't read Sonic?"
"I don't believe in fairies. I don't believe in Santa Claus." Finally, Meg simply left the coffee at the edge of the table. "I don't enjoy fantasy. I don't base any of my obsessions on anything that doesn't have the slightest basis in reality. That's my job as a reporter, to separate fact from fiction but I've always felt that way."
"You'd be surprised, Meg..you don't mind if I call you Meg, do you?..you'd be surprised at the basis of Sonic the Hedgehog, then."
"..No.." Meg looked down. "I don't mind you calling me Meg..Joan."
Before Joan could reply to her sarcastic remark, Naoto returned, carrying a cup of soda with him.
"Eh," he said warily. "Vey karaweded."
"Indeed." Joan gave Meg a look. "Look, we'll be leaving in a few minutes for the airfield. So hurry and drink up, right?"
"Hai."
"Oh, Naoto, I already got you a soda."
Meg did not watch them eat or drink; she just looked out of the window again. She didn't particularly them because they were Japanese; it had been in her nature to dislike them since as far back as she could remember. Being a financial analyst, she also only felt it fair that she should be pushy towards people, many who were also pushy to begin with. It was a dog eat world in Manhattan with the high rollers, and as signs of a faltering economy began to loom, the atmosphere became more cutthroat than ever.
Yet she forgot how to live and interact around normal people as a result. Now, she was not on Wall Street, and these people were not stockbrokers. She again felt compelled to apologize as Naoto finished his Big Mac. She didn't need to.
".Look.."
"Well." Joan shrugged as she went for her purse. "I guess I should cut you some slack. You are a reporter, after all; I guess you have your reasons for your attitude." At this, she actually gave a frown. "But you could cut me some here, huh? You've still got to drive back with me, Ms. Rye."
".Right."
Without another word, Meg stood up out of the booth and promptly went over to a garbage pail. She tossed the coffee out, wondering why she felt so guilty about being so rude. She had never felt that way before towards most people, even talking about silly bedtime stories.
With a sigh, she followed Joan and Naoto, trying to figure out why she felt confused as she did about the situation. As a reporter in her field, she wasn't suppose to care about what others thought as long as she got the story correct. And frankly, she felt some of the people she dealt with on a daily basis deserved a stiff upper lip.
"Oh!" A gust of wind met Joan as she went to push open a door. "The wind's picking up a bit here."
".Indeed.."
Meg mumbled a bit as she went to the car, striding behind Joan and Naoto. The wind was beginning to pick up a little, as Joan said. Dust and sand was flying into Meg's face as she walked. Yet she didn't seem to notice as she brought her jacket even closer into her body, wondering why the hell she was acting the way she was and what the hell was suddenly causing it.
As the car finally found a parking space at the Edwards AFB McDonald's, Meg knew it was going to be a long wait before they would get anything.
"Wow!" Joan covered her eyes from the glaring pre-noon sun. "I guess we weren't the only people to come here, huh?"
"I guess not." Meg mumbled as she untangled herself from the back seat. "Took us long enough to find a parking space."
"Well." Joan started walking. "Since this is close to the airfield, I'm not surprised."
As the three walked into the fast food restaurant, they were met with a sound like that of buzzing flies. People pushed through them to leave the building, and the building inside was jam-packed with people of all ages, shouting, screaming, and crying. There were children who flung their Happy Meal toys on the floor, and their admonishing parents. There were seniors there for the sake of their daily routine, talking of the good old times and gossip, their coffees cold from neglect.
"Hi." Meg came up to the counter, only to be met by the dense babbling of one of the teenage workers. "Welcome to McDonald's. Can I take your order?"
".Yes." Meg replied curtly. "Coffee."
"Anything else?"
"Coffee. Black."
"Total is 50 cents."
Mumbling several choice words towards the dense teen, Meg took the coffee, threw the two quarters at him and sat down at a table that opened up by the window. She had to slide in carefully, lest she get bubble gum from under the table onto her pants.
"@#%$ stupid kid.." She muttered as she opened the plastic flask. The coffee inside was brown. "I said black, you idiot."
She had every reason to go over and give the crack addict a piece of her mind; however, she decided that it was a waste of her collective time and started to take off her new jacket. As she did this, she paused mid-action.
...How strange..
A strange feeling, a cold sensation, seeped into the skin not covered by the jacket. It caused her skin to prickle, and Meg herself, for no particular reason, shuddered. It wasn't that Meg was one to really shy away from cold; she had lived half of her life in a place that got, on average, several days of sub-zero weather and hundreds of feet of snow. Nor was the McDonalds air-conditioned to freezing point; actually, it was not very cold at all. Yet Meg felt compelled to put the jacket back on.
"What the hell...damn..idiots," she muttered as she put it back on. Upon it returning over her arms, the sensation of comfort came back, and with it, the sensation of safety as well.
"Hey there!"
Meg looked up to see Joan approaching the table. In her hands was a tray of lunchtime food - a Big Mac, two fries and two Coca Colas. Over her head sailed a paper ball, which landed on Meg's table.
"Gregory Wilson!" The annoying scream of a little boy filled Meg's ears as the mother took him up. "I think its time for us to go."
"Nooooooo! Waaaaaah!"
The little boy kicked and screamed as Meg watched him get dragged off. With a smirk, Meg took a small sip of her unwanted coffee, taking pleasure from the little brat's predicament.
"This is why I didn't have kids.."
"Incredible, I should say. This place is crowded!" Joan sat down with a chuckle. "We still have a good two hours before the air show actually starts, so this McDonalds is a good place to rest."
"I'm sure." Meg put her cup of coffee back down onto the table. "So, where's your friend?"
"The bathroom. There's a line."
"Oh."
For a moment, not a word was exchanged between the two women. The obvious awkwardness was mostly Meg's fault; she was still not used to the Japanese woman, nor was she too keen on knowing the bubbly professor.
"Well!" Joan broke the silence. "This is some crappy food here, no?"
".Yeah. I asked for black coffee." Meg closed the flask on the cup. "So...who is this Naoto guy with you now? What does he do?"
"Oh, a friend of a friend..of a friend," Joan smiled. "He's an developmental artist from Tokyo. He works
a software company designing video games."
"Heh. Video games." Meg sniffed. "Just the thing to rot children's minds nowadays. Rock music and pinball we can live with, huh?"
"Heh." Joan shrugged. "He's been going around various venues around San Francisco and the Bay Area, trying to get some ideas."
"Ideas?"
"He's got to come up with a mascot for the company. Well." Joan chuckled. "He doesn't have to, but he's been working with a game designer to try to get a commission from the company to make a video game mascot to rival The Super Mario Bros.. He's so far made this wolf, but he has to put some special qualities "
"I heard of them." Meg rolled her eyes. "My sister has the video game system - Nintenny or Nantada or Wakka Wakka or something like that - some company in Japan - She plays it whenever I'm over at her house. The music is incredibly annoying at 2 in the morning."
".You mean Nintendo?" Joan was amused. "Say, where does your sister live? Rome?"
"No..Syracuse, NY."
"Aah..." Joan smiled. "Sorry to get back on it, but I'd really like to know where you got that jacket. Its got the Sonic decal on it."
"..You and Sonic." Meg shook her head. "What is your deal with that?"
"I loved him as a kid. My mom always read them to me." Joan looked out the window. "Every time she read them, I felt safe and happy, because Sonic could do anything. You know, the way all kids feel about their superheroes. That they'll tuck you in at night."
"I never read Sonic."
"Really? A Rome New Yorker that didn't read Sonic?"
"I don't believe in fairies. I don't believe in Santa Claus." Finally, Meg simply left the coffee at the edge of the table. "I don't enjoy fantasy. I don't base any of my obsessions on anything that doesn't have the slightest basis in reality. That's my job as a reporter, to separate fact from fiction but I've always felt that way."
"You'd be surprised, Meg..you don't mind if I call you Meg, do you?..you'd be surprised at the basis of Sonic the Hedgehog, then."
"..No.." Meg looked down. "I don't mind you calling me Meg..Joan."
Before Joan could reply to her sarcastic remark, Naoto returned, carrying a cup of soda with him.
"Eh," he said warily. "Vey karaweded."
"Indeed." Joan gave Meg a look. "Look, we'll be leaving in a few minutes for the airfield. So hurry and drink up, right?"
"Hai."
"Oh, Naoto, I already got you a soda."
Meg did not watch them eat or drink; she just looked out of the window again. She didn't particularly them because they were Japanese; it had been in her nature to dislike them since as far back as she could remember. Being a financial analyst, she also only felt it fair that she should be pushy towards people, many who were also pushy to begin with. It was a dog eat world in Manhattan with the high rollers, and as signs of a faltering economy began to loom, the atmosphere became more cutthroat than ever.
Yet she forgot how to live and interact around normal people as a result. Now, she was not on Wall Street, and these people were not stockbrokers. She again felt compelled to apologize as Naoto finished his Big Mac. She didn't need to.
".Look.."
"Well." Joan shrugged as she went for her purse. "I guess I should cut you some slack. You are a reporter, after all; I guess you have your reasons for your attitude." At this, she actually gave a frown. "But you could cut me some here, huh? You've still got to drive back with me, Ms. Rye."
".Right."
Without another word, Meg stood up out of the booth and promptly went over to a garbage pail. She tossed the coffee out, wondering why she felt so guilty about being so rude. She had never felt that way before towards most people, even talking about silly bedtime stories.
With a sigh, she followed Joan and Naoto, trying to figure out why she felt confused as she did about the situation. As a reporter in her field, she wasn't suppose to care about what others thought as long as she got the story correct. And frankly, she felt some of the people she dealt with on a daily basis deserved a stiff upper lip.
"Oh!" A gust of wind met Joan as she went to push open a door. "The wind's picking up a bit here."
".Indeed.."
Meg mumbled a bit as she went to the car, striding behind Joan and Naoto. The wind was beginning to pick up a little, as Joan said. Dust and sand was flying into Meg's face as she walked. Yet she didn't seem to notice as she brought her jacket even closer into her body, wondering why the hell she was acting the way she was and what the hell was suddenly causing it.