My Dinner With The Callahans

They drove to dinner in the family suburban. Lisa noted the numerous coffee stains, and the slight odour of ketchup. Still, it's cleaner than any of my family's cars.

Ben tapped his brother on the shoulder. Brian looked. Ben was silently counting off on his fingers, and looking up in anticipation.

"Let's see, we'll eat dindin, go for ride, take a bath, and go to bed."

"Eat dindin, go ri'e, bap, sleep," Ben said, counting each item off on his stubby fingers.

"He likes to know the plan. He's a creature of routine."

Lisa nodded. She felt her sympathy for Brian's parents rising. The effort they put into feeding and clothing and bathing this poor little creature, day after day…She also understood Brian's adamant defence of the disabled in the face of those who saw them as 'worthless' and 'better off euthanized'. She saw how much he loved his little brother, how he had really forsaken part of his childhood for him, and how he all at once wished that he could have had a normal brother to play with and teach, and how he, at the same time, would have his brother no other way.

They arrived at Tokyo Bowl. It was a small restaurant on the corner of one of the small shopping centres that had sprung up in the town over the last few years. They got out, and entered. They were promptly greeted by a short, elderly Asian woman, who lead them to one of the twenty or so tables in the restaurant. They sat down, and Lisa watched in puzzlement as Brian and his parents began to remove everything except a fork and a napkin from Ben's reach.

"So he doesn't Te-Hache-Ere-Oh-Double Ve quelque chose," Brian explained, mish-mashing English and French, in addition to spelling out the key word, so that Ben would not understand and proceed to do what they intended to prevent him from doing.

They got an order of spring rolls as an appetizer. Ben ate nearly half of them. Lisa and Brian decided to each order vegetable curry and split an order of vegetarian sushi, while June ordered a chicken salad and Donald got the spicy shrimp rolls.

After dinner, Brian's family took them on a tour of Springton. They showed them the city hall, the museum, the church, the post office, and the first of what they feared would be many Starbucks. They got coffee, tea, and biscuits at the privately owned coffee shop across the street.

"Damn Starbucks," the old man at the counter grumbled, looking across the street at the glowing sign and the crowded shop beneath it. He looked around the nearly empty coffee shop. "We're closin' down at the end of this year. They're gonna put another Starbucks right here. Across the street from another one, for chrissakes! And they're putting a drive-through one on near the on-ramp to the free way!"

"Why don't you refuse to sell to them?" Lisa asked, switching into 'activist mode'.

"Eh, already have. Need to think about myself in my old age, you know. Can't keep this up forever, and with business going as it has for the last three years. I guess it's the way its gotta' be."

"Corporations are evil," Brian muttered.

"Too true. Its like you said, 'anything that thinks, acts, and has a will, but is not human, is evil'."

"One evil human being is not nearly as bad as a whole corporate boardroom filled with them."

"Well, not always. Mr. Burns, for example…EXON, Microsoft, and Disney combined can't equal how evil he was."

"Wasn't he the head of the Springfield Power Plant?"

"Yes. Richest man in Springfield, and in the county, only the second richest man in the state and sixteenth richest man in the country, and that was without all the property he had under trusts and corporations he controlled, or owned under dead people's names. He owned a quarter of the private property in town, was on the board of Springfield U, and controlled the police, the mayor, and the city council."

"He's dead now, isn't he?"

"Yes," Lisa said hesitantly.

Back at the house, they unpacked their belongings and carried them to guesthouse.

"Ah, the old guest house!" Brian said. He collapsed to the gound, coughing, and took out his inhaler. "Pretty dusty. Guess that Ma and Da haven't had guests for some time."

Lisa scoped-out their surroundings. "They seem to have prepared for us, though. The beds are freshly made, the shower smells of cleaner, and there's a brand-new TV with cable in the den."

"Aw, that was so kind of them." Brian said. He coughed violently, then took another puff of his inhaler. "Man, that's good."

They opened the windows, turned on the fans, and unpacked and activated the Ironic Err ionic air purifier. Some dusting, some sweeping, a touch of vacuuming, and an hour and a half later, the house was fresh and clean. After cleaning, they took their bags into the bedroom.

Lisa noticed two beds, each on the other side of the room.

"I guess they didn't intend for us to be sleeping together."

"Like we ever do anything other than sleep," Lisa said, some of her bitterness on the matter escaping in her voice. Brian, trained to detect such unintentional reveals, heard it.

"Lisa, darling, we've discussed this many times."

"What!" she snapped.

"Look, I'm sorry, but you know my views on it. Physical Intimacy has its place only within marriage. I'd be committing as big a sin as if I were to engage in homosexual acts."

Lisa sighed.

"Please dear. Do you really want it to be here, to be now? In my parents house…guest house…like sneaky children? Do you want it to be something you'll be ashamed of if we're caught, something that you'll regret years later when we are married? Do you want me to do something I feel is a terrible mortal sin? Do you want to do something that hurtful to me?"

Lisa shook her head.

"I'm sorry Brian."

"Nothing to be sorry for. I know how you feel. I love you too."

He kissed her. She smiled a tired smile.

"Philosopher through and through," she said, shaking her head.