Chapter XVIII. Crossroad & One-Way Road
"What do you mean by 'I want to go to the beach right in this instance'?" said Jafar's text in the Discord DM.
"NOW. OR I AM CALLING FROLLO." Hades typed. He did not care how aggressive he looked when he tapped on the screen in the eyes of passersby. As now he stood in a corner of the intersection under the golden sunset, next to him was a black sign with white text that read "ONE WAY".
The only thing Hades knew was—he wanted Jafar RIGHT IN THIS INSTANCE.
"Ok. Wait for us. You're at home?"
"No, I'm in front of Dickey's Barbecue Pit, the one closest to San Francisco City Hall." Hades typed as he checked his surroundings, even if he felt overwhelmed by the thousand noises of the crossroad. Heck, he couldn't recall why he would turn down the lawyer's offer to drive him back home.
"Why are you near the City Hall?" replied Jafar, to which Hades decided to wash him with walls of gifs. Then his phone rang-it was Frollo.
"Hello, how may I help you?" said the baritone voice as Hades could even imagine Frollo's stoic expression in front of him.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'HOW MAY YOU HELP ME' AND WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME?" yelled Hades. He KNEW every single pedestrian was side-eyeing him, but he just couldn't care less.
"Take a deep breath. Could you follow me?" Frollo was unfazed, "Breath in quietly through your nose. One, two, three..."
"WHERE IS JAFAR?"
"We just got in our car and Jafar will drive. Listen, it's the sound of the ignition," Frollo even paused and let the engine speak-Vroom...vroom...
"...Really?" Hades facepalmed. Then a sense of shame took over him as he now realized how bizarre he was before he could calm down. But he didn't want to change his waiting spot as he just told Jafar his position.
"Hades, it may be a lot to ask, but it takes about 50 minutes to arrive there. The only thing we can do now is help you calm down. Can you do that?" Hades was not sure whether he mistook Frollo, but he sounded more obscurely apologetic than ever.
"...What else am I supposed to do?" asked Hades, there were so many words in his throat that might become a meaningless roar once he couldn't control the boiling anger-he even didn't know where this anger came from in the first place.
"May I read you a story in the Bible to help you relax?" Frollo's offer triggered Hades' traumatic memory about a Bible on the desk: everything you say shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God...
"NO, NO BIBLE!" Hades almost threw his phone on the ground.
"...Hades, forgive me. I am not like a seasoned YouTuber like you or Jafar," Frollo's response was still collected and calm, "How am I supposed to help you through this for 50 minutes without the Bible? It's the only thing on me."
"...Just turn on the radio and turn to whatever channel you like, man," Hades clinched the spot between the eyebrows, "Just...no Bible."
"Ok." Then Hades could hear Frollo turn on the radio, the whisper of Jafar asking "Is he alright?" and the broadcast on the radio. He could feel Frollo just holding his phone next to the speaker:
"Good evening, California! This is KABC, your trusted source of news and information. In today's report, we bring you an update on an archaeological excavation in Mesopotamia that took an unexpected turn. What was initially believed to be a groundbreaking discovery turned out to be a mix-up, as the remains found were identified as the corpse of a man who had passed away two years ago..."
"Hades, pardon me for the quality of the radio," Frollo interrupted-Hades couldn't understand why Frollo kept apologizing for the things he couldn't even control? It honestly irritated him.
"...Don't care, nobody asked, go on," muttered Hades, and then Frollo went silent. The radio went on:
"In order to confirm the identity of the deceased, the team conducted a comprehensive cross-examination of the reconstructed face of the deceased, comparing it to available records and photographs of several missing persons. Through this diligent investigation, authorities were able to conclusively establish the identity of the deceased soldier, Phoebus de Châteaupers, a French American soldier who had been missing in action..."
The gleaming golden and scarlet lights blended as if...Hades was never a creative individual, he mused. But he did think that the sight resembled a pot of simmering pumpkin broth.
The pain of holding onto his phone was unbearable, so Hades decided to hang up on Frollo's radio. Finally, he could sever ties with that man, as the situations were typically different.
After the effort of the lawyer, Zeus received a conditional release, but he should wear an electronic monitoring device and be forbidden from certain public areas like bars. This conditional release would remain until the authority examined the sample of "Blue Passerine" thoroughly.
Hades did not like how Zeus could still enter his mansion, his one last sanctuary from his brother. He didn't know how to feel about the sudden evidence from the prosecution.
Is it justice? Then why does it taste worse than a cup of expired milk? How about all the sacrifices he had made just for Zeus? Does any of this hustle worth it? Or was he just shocked that Zeus did commit such a heinous crime?
As Hades was lost in these thoughts, Jafar parked his car on the roadside and both Jafar and Frollo opened the car doors respectively.
"Have you eaten anything yet? It's a bit late," asked Jafar, he patted on Hades' shoulder. Hades noticed Frollo step onto the walkway and pick up his phone.
"We can grab anything along the beach. It's California, why are you concerned about food?" Hades tried to sound cheerful, but he was powerless.
"Bruh, you are standing in front of a fast food restaurant, I will order takeout..."
"No, you will not order any garbage food because I want to eat real SEAFOOD!" Hades couldn't control his volume as he attempted to block Jafar's way to enter Dickey's Barbecue Pit behind him. Jafar shot a helpless glance at Frollo, but that man was still preoccupied with the phone call.
"Hey, you do realize now it's 7 o'clock, which is like, an hour before most of the restaurants are close?" Jafar tapped on the time on his phone, "Quick, name any seafood restaurants, it still takes 20 minutes from here to the nearest beach."
"Swan Oyster Depot, Woodhouse Fish Co., Pacific Catch...checkmate," Hades counted with his fingers as he memorized the seafood restaurants in his pocket list, "Also, the nearest beach is South Beach, which is 10 minutes from here, boohoo."
Jafar rolled his eyes, he looked at Frollo, but the man just frowned at the seemingly endless conversation on the phone.
"...Officer, I understand you want to investigate the case, but I am assisting my friend right now. He is very unstable and I need to calm him down. Could you call me tomorrow? I will answer the phone at 8 in the morning...Thank you, see you tomorrow." Frollo hung up his phone and walked toward the two, "Are you ok?"
"Frollo, choose one from...ugh, Hades, name the things!" Jafar was frustrated that he did not bear the talent of Hades to name-drop a shopping list of favourite restaurants like he was rapping.
"Swan Oyster Depot, Woodhouse Fish Co., Pacific Catch, Fog Harbor Fish House..."
"Swan Oyster Depot," Frollo said with a deadpan tone. The man even sighed as he watched Hades let out his cheer, trying to act like a theatre clown to wash away all of his sorrow.
Frollo had been washing his hands in the sink far longer than necessary, Jafar thought.
Hades seemed to run out of energy; he held his fork and tilted his head down, waiting for their food. Then the courses came: Carpaccio with four colours served with the green pearl-like beans for Jafar: red, white, orange, and pink. The veins on that carpaccio indicated the rich fat of the fish; Thin scallops served with blood-colour sauce, like a young girl stained by her first blossom. This course was for Hades, Jafar craned his neck to smell the sauce, it had the favour of vinegar.
Jafar mused on the clever presentation of the raw ceviche and prawn cocktail in glasses like fine wine. But Hades just poked and chewed on his ceviche as those coming from the bodies of his enemies. Upon two cups of Stella Artois delivered Jafar realized none of Frollo's food was ready, but that man was still washing his hands...for some reason.
"Pardon," Jafar called to a waiter, "we ordered our meals some time ago and they haven't been served yet. Could you please check on them?"
"Sir, I apologize for the delay. Let me find out the status of your order and ensure it's on its way."
"Thank you," Jafar nodded. The waiter walked away toward the open kitchen, while Frollo finally returned from the sink.
"Who called you? Your ex-colleague?" Jafar asked with a piece of raw tuna melting in his mouth.
"A police officer," said Frollo, wiping his hands with some tissues with meticulous measure, "One of my subordinates, who we thought was MIA… his corpse was found in Iraq. They highly suspect it was a murder rather than KIA, so they want to talk to me."
"...Pardon, what is MIA and…" asked Jafar.
"MIA stands for missing in action, similar to KIA, but the 'K' stands for 'killed'."
Right after Frollo finished his explanation, the waiter came with a plate full of oysters, arranged in a floral pattern atop a bed of ice to ensure they remain at an optimal temperature.
"I apologize again for the delay. Your other order will be ready soon, but the smoked salmon will take 5 minutes. Please wait for us," bowed the waiter. Jafar glanced at Frollo, realizing that everything that had not been served yet was all Frollo's order— even this plate of oysters was merely Jafar's order for sharing with the group.
"Sure. Do you offer some extra salt, sir?" Frollo asked.
"Yes, would you like the salt now or should it come with your smoked salmon?"
"I'd like it now. Thank you again," said Frollo, and the waiter left. Jafar noticed Hades raising his cup of beer, brooding.
"Hades, you have to explain why you suddenly called us just because you want to go to the beach. What does that mean? Why are you in such a hurry?" asked Jafar with his arms spread wide.
"I don't know, my man Jafar. Does life even have any significant meaning?" Hades didn't even look at Jafar.
"No, you can't just throw a 'Life is meaningless' like a trump card at me, never," Jafar moved his chair closer to Hades. But they were interrupted by the waiter, who came with Frollo's bread and a glass of red wine.
"Oh god, who will drive after dinner now since all three of us ordered alcohol," Jafar laced his hand behind his head, realizing the risk of drunk driving.
"It'll be fine, Jafar. California's BAC limit is 0.08%," Frollo seemed annoyed by Jafar's question. He raised his glass and took a sip, then said, "I have memorized my BAC corresponding to how many glasses of wine I've had. After this glass, my BAC would still be below the legal limit. Chill."
"Also, drunk driving sounds fun..."
"Hades, stop. It isn't," Jafar facepalmed at the nonchalant Hades, who played with his fork in the cup of ceviche like a toy.
The three remained silent throughout the entire dinner, with only the clashing of dinnerware as their chatter. No delectable food on Earth could withstand such suffocating silence.