5 – Two Co-Workers Discuss Moving Plans at a Sushi Place

On the last Friday of February. I checked my email and typed down my two weeks' notice on my phone.

"Dear Mrs. Chick,

I am writing to inform you of my intention to leave Chick and O'Neill within two weeks. My last day as an employee will be March 13th at the latest.

Thank you for letting me do my best to make this company a better place! However, I have been granted an amazing job offer from a former neighbor.

If possible, I wish to use a week's worth of vacation days from March 9th-13th to prepare for my next employment opportunity. Please let me know if you require any help during the week I am available, or if I can do any remote work during my vacation.

Thank you!"

I had hardly an idea who Thomas was, but I listed him as a former neighbor regardless in the email. As I was about to press send, another email popped up. I sent the email and dashed over to the next.

This email wasn't just to me, it was also addressed to four other people. Raymond J. Fink, whom I recognized as Ray, and three others: Perrine R. Cook, Caroline I. Bliss, and Beau P. Van Hoorn were on the list. Skimming through the email, I read key details about my flight to the island.

"Esteemed passengers and future residents of the Deserted Island project,

For your safety and ours, we have arranged an advance flight plan for each passenger taking flight from March 10th to the 22nd. It has come to our attention that COVID-19 cases have been rapidly increasing, and the pandemic status seems ever closer. The coronavirus's potential effects are unknown, though rest assured, your safety is our main concern. We have arranged a space for two weeks' quarantine for those planning on flying to the island to monitor COVID-19 symptoms. In accordance with this quarantine, your new flight date will be March 8th.

For further information, please consult the World Health Organization's coronavirus guidelines or contact us. Refunds may not be granted at this time, as the contract requires a two-week advance before requesting one before your initial flight date. Thank you, and bon voyage!"

I put my phone in my pocket and felt like I was not going to regret this. Thomas' company took my money from me, and it was too late to ask for a refund. As I hopped on the bus to work, I knew I had to talk to Ray.

After going over the ramp and through the streets, the bus stopped at my workspace. I found my space in the office, my usual place where I could get things done. I was halfway through filing my files when upper management sent me an email about my two weeks' notice.

"Thank you for sending your request for leave. We wish you farewell on your new employment journey and would like to send our regards to your future employer. Your final paycheck will be deposited into your bank account on March 10th. Please note that your on-the-job duties will be relegated for this week and may be on-demand. If you wish to continue your employment, the company may be going fully remote to prevent the spread of COVID-19. For any requests, please contact us via email or telephone.

-Upper Management"

At least they let me leave the company and begin anew. I wasn't alone, though my traveling companion was staying an employee here.

"Do you have any plans for lunch?" I began an email to Ray. "You can pick anywhere you want to go, and I'll pay if you want me to!" What else could I mention except the email from the travel company? I'm sure he knows, but also, what were his plans before the advance flight announcement? "If you want to talk about the island, we can do that, too!" A few embellishments later and I press send. The message is sent instantly to Ray's inbox, but I'm not sure if he found it yet.

Lunchtime came around, and Ray came to my side of the office to lead me to the parking garage. "You're going to love this place, Belladonna. They've got excellent sushi and wagyu yakisoba." I got up, put away my laptop in my bag and asked Ray,

"So, you got my email, then!" I walked with Ray all the way to the elevator foyer, past the entrance to our company's floor of the building. Compared to the rest of the floor, the grey on the walls was warmer, and the floor was wood, unlike Chick and O'Neill's choice of muted blue carpeting. Ray pressed the down button next to the elevators.

"Yeah. To be honest, I was planning to talk with management about my remote job, but it could be an email." Ray and I rode the elevator down to the mezzanine, where the entrance to the parking garage was. The mezzanine was a half-floor with walls made of hardwood and linoleum flooring. This floor had an overlook of the lobby through black one-sided glass, which had walls covered with a yellowish marble-like stone, and a tall fountain in the center. At the other side of the mezzanine was a fork that split off to more floors and the door to the parking garage.

I opened the door for Ray. "After you!" I said as we passed through the chill and crisp late winter air. The late morning sun turned the icicles of days past into little droplets that dribbled atop the gaps in the concrete walls. Ray's car was on the same story as the mezzanine entrance, but ten-odd cars down from the door, and closer to the exit.

Sandwiched between two white SUV's, Ray's black sedan seemed almost invisible to passersby. Ray remotely unlocked his car and led me closer to the vehicle. The interior was trim, crisp, and tidy, like he'd just gotten it. The grey fabric-and-leather interior had no accessories barring a Batman air freshener. The new car smell wasn't there, as the interior smelled like the fresh morning air.

"Can't believe I'm ridding myself of this thing. I know I'm going to get a little boost out of the sale, but it's also a reminder about how different life is here." Ray got into the driver's side of the car and buckled himself in.

"Yeah, I figure the island's the type of place where you don't need a car!" I got into the passenger's seat and buckled my seatbelt. Ray inserted his key into the ignition and as soon as he did, his phone connected to the speakers. As soon as it did, a podcast started playing.

The voice from the speakers warned me and Ray about a horde of "Eternal Scouts" swarming the city from a burlap tent, even in privately-owned places. I was a bit taken aback by the warning, but Ray calmed my fears, and told me,

"Some of my coworkers told me I reminded them of the host of this podcast, Cecil. I assume it's because he, like me, dresses crisp and proper, or his eyes are unique like mine, but I like their podcast recommendations." I gathered a glimpse of his eyes in the rear-view mirror. I wouldn't call them unique, just leaf green with a ring of golden brown in the middle. He pulled out of the space and down the parking garage ramp. As he made a turn, I read "23 – Eternal Scouts: Welcome to Night Vale" on the GPS/entertainment screen. Cecil made quips and notes about the strange and odd scouting organization as Ray exited the parking garage, until turning to the weather. Unlike most other small town news podcasts, Night Vale had music instead of a weather report.

The "weather song" reflected on someone leaving behind the campsite on a beach they called home. I imagined that this is how we both felt about waiting out Covid on an island far out into the ocean. This city is just another jetty, I propose, and it's about time to expand our horizons.

"This song has me thinking about how things are about to change. Maybe for the better!" I said as we rode along the street and its many businesses. Ray turned a corner and passed along eastward, headed towards the college. The music continued as we passed by rows of shops and government buildings, and people out on a Friday morning. As we made the next turn, the one nearest to the college, the last notes of the weather came from the stereo system. Cecil returned to his dear listeners, telling us that the ceremony had ended when we traveled northwards.

"To be honest, I like the whole episode." Ray told me as we moved in closer to the restaurant. "I'm a real cat guy myself, crisp, so it was neat when Cecil's cat, Khoshekh, had his time in the spotlight earlier in the episode." When Cecil began a little reminder that people in the final rank of scouting end up preserved at City Hall, Ray pulled into the parking lot. At a point near the end of Cecil's story of the fate of the Eternal Scouts, Ray's car was beneath a leafless tree with dripping icicles.

Ray pulled out his key from the slot and unbuckled his seatbelt, pausing the podcast in the process. We both opened our doors to leave the sedan to venture towards the restaurant, Kunihiro's Noodles and Rolls. The place was at the left end of a little plaza covered with logs and stones. The two other businesses were an independent coffee shop called Sugar Island Coffee, and a bicycle store called Combined Cycle. On the outside of Sugar Island, students chatted about homework and other odd bits and bobs of their lives. A woman with a stickered helmet wheeled her basketed purple bicycle into Combined Cycle for what I assumed to be a tune-up.

Ding, ding, the bells rang on the door as we stepped onto the hardwood floor. Students from the college gathered around the tables, and the staffers stood behind a bar, making rolls for hungry patrons. A television hung on the wood-paneled wall above the bar displayed the name of the song currently playing on the speakers, Junko Ohashi's "Telephone Number." Posters of motorcycles were on the wood walls, alongside some vintage Japanese print art of the countryside. After talking with the host up front, she told us the only spots left were at the bar or a tatami table in the back of the restaurant. The staff were cleaning up the spots for future customers like us, which would take about five to ten minutes.

An empty waiting area was right next to the host booth, which gave Ray and I ample time to connect about why we were off to the island. Ray and I sat next to each other in a booth-like spot opposite the window, as we discussed our reasons for leaving this town and living the island life.

"So, not to let the cat out of the bag, but I actually leaving am Montanie forever." He showed me his confirmation email from the island company, complete with a flight date updated to the eighth of March, like mine. A flight plan led from Montanie to Cove Pond City to a bigger city to Arkport to two unrecognized airports, one of which I thought led to an island.

"Congratulations, Raymond Fink, on your new venture into island life! Thank you for taking this once in a lifetime offer to live the dream! Just know that even if you don't have enough, don't worry! Our island staff is here to guide you and turn a once-inhospitable over-weeded isle into a paradise worthy of being called a five-star resort! All you need to do is spend your days discovering what next to do!
Visit our website for more information on how to move in."

I was curious as to where this was going. "Wow! I mean you made the best of it, right?"

Ray put away his phone into his pocket. "I mean, I'll get along. I'm sure the boss won't make me go back to the office now that I'm moving away to an island in the middle of nowhere. She'll understand, crisp, just like the rest of the company. You know about the pandemic, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, yeah. It's kind of a doozy."

Ray said, "I feel you, crisp. I told you that I've been longing for adventure, right? Thing is, I came to this company as a jumping point for business connections. I've kind of wanted to open my own tailor shop, and I wanted to know the know before I rocked out the show. Guess I can finally build that dream now."

In my mind, flowers blossomed all around my vision at the thought of that. "Aww, that's sweet! Well, I'm sure your dreams will come true!" I told Ray.

Several seconds before the host got up to tell us there was a table ready for the two of us, Ray said, "Yeah, I'll miss the office life. Hope I can keep it up while stitching what could have been ditched. Such is the life of a creative." The host picked us up to invite us to the tatami table and told a waiting customer in the same area that their spot at the bar would be ready after we got our seat.

The table elevated above the rest of the restaurant, but with a sunken-in-floor, like the other two tatami tables. Above our spot were some vintage woodland art prints, and our table had a decent view of the sushi bar. When we sat down, the TV told us that the song on the radio was "Remember Summer Days" by Anri. On the table were two complimentary water glasses, alongside the usual restaurant fare.

While waiting for our server, I wanted to tell Ray the reason I needed to go to the island. I'd assumed he hadn't known about Thomas, the guy who offered me a residential help job. If he had, I would have guessed he was talking about the CEO of the company offering homes on such a remote island. The second I decided to tell Ray about Thomas, a waiter came to our table. It was time to let sleeping dogs lie when the waiter asked,

"Hello, sir and madam! Can I get you two anything else to drink besides water?" Ray nodded no, and of course, I didn't wish to object. He was the one who picked the place, and heaven knows what would happen if management found out I drank alcohol on my lunch break. "Excellent! I'll be right back with some miso soup and give you both some time to look at the menu."

I opened my menu and gravitated towards the sushi options. Judging by what Ray said earlier about wagyu yakisoba, I predicted he was planning to choose that dish or get something similar for lunch. I waved my finger down the line of sushi options and weighed my options between the ebi and California roll. Both were at a reasonable price, but I could only eat at Kunihiro's once or twice before the move.

"Oh," I asked Ray, "What are you getting for lunch?"

Ray closed and set down his menu on the wood table nearest to where the server would be. "I'm getting my usual, because let's face it, I'll miss this place." Meanwhile, our server was delivering beverages and complimentary miso to other patrons at a table near the front of the restaurant.

I closed my menu and set it down on the table. "I know what I'm getting, too." After reaching my finger over to the call button to flag a waiter, Ray looked at me with a look of concern.

"Hey, wait a minute. A buddy I went here with said these buttons didn't work. You want to try?" I moved my finger to press the button just when the waiter had finished a round at the table at the front of the restaurant.

The waiter approached our table, with two black and red miso soup cups on the ready. At that moment, confusion made its way to Ray's face, likely followed by embarrassment. I didn't want to say the obvious, and I'm sure he didn't want to make any remarks yet, but the waiter said,

"Here's your soups, and oh! I see you're ready to order, yeah?"

Ray took his soup. "Yes, thank you. I'll take the wagyu yakisoba."

I put my soup next to me and placed it next to my water glass. "I would like the ebi nigiri, please!"

The waiter wrote down both our orders and asked us, "Would you two like anything else today?"

Ray picked up his water and told the waiter, "No thank you," before taking a sip. The waiter left our table to serve other customers, but not before stopping by the kitchen to deliver our meal ticket. "Hey, sometimes it works. You never know unless you try."

I picked up my miso soup and took a little sniff of it. The smell was warm, savory, and relaxing. I took a sip, and the same smell translated into a similar taste, but with a hint of brine and seaweed. I savored the taste for a while before Ray turned to me.

"So, Isabelle," he pondered, "You're working on the island, right? What for, exactly?" This sleeping dog had been awakened and could not eternally lie.

I set down my soup so I could give myself time to respond. "Oh, yeah! So, you know Thomas, right?"

If Ray had sipped his cup of water, he would have spit it up. Instead, he held his water, which he almost spilled as he half-slammed it onto the table. "Thomas? You mean the head honcho? Are you telling me he's going to nominate you as the president of the island or something?"

Though presidential duties sounded exceptional, I couldn't bear to have him hope too much and too high. It was nice that he thought I was going to rule the island, though. "No, I'm afraid, I'm not going to be the president. He selected me to be on the main island staff! Isn't that exciting?"

Ray closed his eyes and cheered, "Oh, la, la, congratulations!" His excitement matched that of a fisher celebrating a friend's big catch. The big catch here was an island government job, and not a mighty sea-beast in the depths of the great Pacific.

"He recognized me from some earlier work I did, and I assumed we were neighbors at one point!" I explained to Ray, "But that's what I put on my two weeks' notice."

Ray laughed and said, "Yeah, but it was nice you might have known Thomas before he started that island community thing. Nobody else I know says they've heard his name before, nevertheless actually met the guy."

I almost jumped out of my seat. "Wait what? Yeah, to be honest, I really didn't know much about him until I bought a ticket to the island!"

Ray picked up his soup. "Well, he certainly knows you. Why else would you work with his island development project?"

At that moment, the waiter returned with our orders. "Thank you so much! I appreciate your patience while we worked carefully on your lunches." The waiter started passing our orders out to us. "Wagyu yakisoba, for the gentleman." Ray's eyes widened as his noodles came his way. "And for the lady, ebi nigiri." The sushi platter arrived onto my side of the table, and the waiter left.

"Itadakimasu!" Ray called out, distracted by the deliciousness. He grabbed a pair of chopsticks from his placemat and picked up a bite of fried noodles. "This looks delicious, as per usual. You want a bite?"

"No thank you," I responded to Ray, "I think I'll be satisfied with mine. But thank you!" I grabbed my chopsticks, and fumbled around with them, trying to get a piece of sushi. All the chopsticks did was slip and slide around the pieces of shrimp on rice, but I couldn't let myself be too discouraged. I sighed, letting go of my chopsticks, as they rolled towards a spot next to my nigiri. I picked up the piece of sushi nearest to the tips of the chopsticks with my fingers, dipping the shrimpy bit into the soy sauce.

"Ah." Ray finished swallowing his bite of beefy noodles. "It took me a while to learn chopsticks, as well. Patience is a virtue, crisp. You'll be able to learn if you let the sticks teach you."

I tried again with the next piece, which was the one now closest to the left of the plate. I had to move the chopsticks into an awkward position to grab the piece, but it worked.

"Hey," Ray said while grabbing a piece of fried beef. "You did it. Don't give up now, try it with the other pieces."

I only had two pieces of sushi left, and I didn't want to let them go to waste while watching Ray eat his meal.