He stepped off the little edge, in a hurry to find her. The blaring of a horn rang through his ears. He turned and was blinded by a pair of lights. He didn’t remember the carriage hitting him or anything else for three days while he lay in ahospital bed with a concussion and two broken ribs. He learned dozens of new words, medical and non-medical, from the people who cared for him. If the urgency to find Fable wasn’t driving him, he would have stayed around his hospital room marveling at all the different wonders of the twenty-first century, though his physicians and nurses told him it was his hard head that saved him when it hit the pavement. His caregivers wanted him to stay to perform more tests, especially after he told them his name and date of birth.
But he had to leave the wondrous hospital and find Fable. How? Even if she’d gone to her previous “home” on 46th and 9th, it didn’t mean she was still there. Chances were, she wasn’t.
He left the hospital, dejected and more than a little lost. It had been night when last he walked in Fable’s future. But now, the sun shone down on a sea of people walking to and fro with their faces bent to small, hand-held devices. He’d never seen so many people–and none of them saw him despite his attire being a bit…outdated, and his face and form being a bit outstanding compared to the other men around him. He’d been walking aimlessly and was surprised when he looked up to find that he’d gone the wrong way, taking a wrong turn somewhere and found himself on Madison Ave. Madison. Madison where? His left side hurt and made walking more strenuous. He removed his coat while he walked and wiped his brow with his sleeve. He stopped when he came to a crossing and looked out at all the–what had the physicians called them?Cars.He had to wait, along with a dozen other people, for the cars to stop before he could walk.
He looked up. 97th and Madison Ave. He watched the image of a red human in a circle with a line through it flash from a small box affixed to a pole. For the briefest of moments, he wondered how the people of this time shaped light in the image of a person. His heart thumped. Don’t walk. Was he going theright way? He wanted to call out. How many people were in this city?Fable!
The light changed to a green human walking.
He stepped into the crossroads with the others. Why was he moving this way? Was he simply following his feet? He looked into the distance. He could see the next sign. 96th Street. South-toward 46th. Right.
When he saw the small tavern-type of establishment on the corner of the street, he thought about having something to eat. At the thought of something nourishing, his insides grumbled. He wondered how a person paid for a meal here. He checked the pockets sewn into his coat tossed over his arm. He had a few coins, two guineas in gold, and some bank notes. He doubted any of it was of use here. Maybe the gold had some value. Could he get a meal for a little gold?
He made his way to the establishment and stepped inside. Opening the door, a little chime sounded when he hit it with his head.
“Welcome to Tess' Diner. How many?
Ben stared blankly at the woman who greeted him. “How many what?”
She tossed him a well-practiced smile. “How many in your party?”
He thought about it for a moment then blinked. “One.”
“Right this way.” Her tone softened, along with her gaze when she turned to have another look at him. “Are you visiting the States or do you live here?”
He remembered Fable telling him about the country where she came from and the physicians confirming that the States was where they were. “I’m visiting.”
She led him to a table near a window and handed him a certificate of sorts with lists of the foods they served.
He smiled at some of the descriptions and then remembered the only way he could pay.
“My lady,” he said, “I’m afraid all I have to pay for my meal is this.” He produced a guinea and held it up to her. “It’s gold.”
“What’s it worth?” she asked, holding it up to examine it.
“More than a meal, I suspect.”
She shrugged and handed it back to him. “Today’s meal is on me. Take this to Able’s Best Jewelry on 84th and Madison and tell him Bernie sent you. He’ll tell you what it’s worth. He’ll even buy it from you. He’s very fair.”
“I can’t accept your gracious offer. I will repay you for today’s meal.”
“Fine,” she grinned at him. “Have a look at the menu. I’ll be back in five to take your order.”
He looked over the booklet, marveling over the colorful images. Golden pancakes served with his choice of meat. Something called Challah French Toast that looked especially appetizing in the image of it. He touched it half-expecting to touch the food displayed. There were a variety of eggs served with dozens of different side dishes. Tea and coffee. He was still looking everything over when she returned.
He told her what he chose; a three egg vegetable omelet.
“Would you like home fries or french fries with that?”
Ben gave her a curious look. “Since I’ve never heard of either, I’ll have both.”
Her expression didn’t change while she wrote in a small pad with a quill-less quill. He waited a moment. She looked up and smiled at him. “Hash, bacon, sausage, plant-based?”
He looked at her the same way the physicians and nurses had looked at him when he told them how he traveled here from the past. “Plant-based…meat?”
She nodded but said nothing.
“I have never heard of hash or plant-based meat. Is it any good?”
