Chapter 7
It took two days for Sheila to feel herself again after her experience with Ishtar. She was absolutely mentally and physically drained after the encounter. Still, Rosa eagerly looked forward to the next one.
Today she had been directed by the budgeted voice she knew as Joshua to come to this small restaurant. As always, she had no idea why she was here, but expected it would be interesting.
It always was.
The diner was a shabby, small establishment located in an impoverished part of town Sheila normally wouldn't have considered stopping in and that Rosa thought of as an exciting adventure.
Trusting Joshua, and giving in to Rosa, she placed the phone in her purse--a neon blue one she favored today. She quickly checked her makeup in the rear view mirror, adjusted the blue tube-top Rosa wouldn't let her leave the shop without buying, and climbed from her vehicle. Her pleated black skirt creaked against the leather of her car seat as turned to stand.
Sheila couldn't help being a little nervous as she entered the restaurant.
The quaint Mom-and-Pop diner boasted of delicious spaghetti and meatballs on a chalk sign. It appeared they had made a feeble attempt at creating a classic Italian restaurant, but had only achieved retro-seventies-velvet-flair truck stop. A sign read, "GUITO'S," in bold, red letters.
The décor didn't appear to concern the patrons. Most of the clientele were of matching caliber.
A thin man wearing a brown plaid flannel shirt and a ragged straw cowboy hat slurped soup noisily from a spoon. The large number of stains on the front of his shirt indicated he had this soup frequently.
He spoke between slurps with a waitress leaning over the counter near him.
Her ample breasts were nearly half exposed as they squeezed from her low cut top.
At a corner booth a very clean-cut young man in a sweater vest sat reading a newspaper. He peeked over the top of the paper shyly, being careful to keep his face concealed. His clothes were pressed neatly, though threadbare in places.
The benches of all the booths had been long ago upholstered in red vinyl that was now frayed and split. They had clearly seen better days. The table tops had bare spots in the finish from decades of elbows resting on them. The dreary little restaurant was quiet with the exception of the tiny bell Sheila had set in motion upon entering.
"Hiya, Hun. Have a seat anywhere, I'll be right with ya," the attractive, middle-aged waitress said from behind the counter. She smiled pleasantly, brushing a chestnut strand of hair from her blue eyes. Her expression was as tired as her faded, blue uniform, yet she still managed to be friendly.
"Just coffee, please," Sheila said as she sat down at a booth near the door. She gripped the phone tightly in her right hand, wanting desperately to receive the call telling her why she was here.
Even in a place like this, Rosa's life was exciting. Sheila thought about the dull complacent life she had lived for far too long. The self doubting and self loathing that only seemed Like a bad dream now, someone else's life.
Sheila reached out to Ishtar, mentally calling to her. She enjoyed her new ability to contact Ishtar, something The Network had always denied her.
I am here, precious one,
Ishtar immediately greeted her mind.
What am I doing here?
Sheila looked around the diner casually.
Relax, it will be interesting.
Ishtar's words felt full of anticipation.
Be patient, Precious One.
Sheila felt the absence of Ishtar as she withdrew from her mind. She hated that part. Feeling so far away from her when it happened. Too far.
The waitress sat a cup of coffee on the table.
Sheila was able to read her name tag now.
"Thank you, Mable."
"You're welcome, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything else." Mable winked, and walked away.
The phone vibrated in her hand startling her once again.
It seemed her nerves were always on edge while she waited on Joshua to call. She chuckled to herself, realizing that before she was interrupted, Rosa had been lost in thought wondering what Mable's ample breasts would look like free of the tight uniform.
She composed herself, and answered,
"Hello."
"Enjoying the view, Rosa?"
"I was. Couldn't help myself," her voice filled with amusement. Then added, "I'm at the diner." Knowing full well they already knew, but pretending she didn't to conceal her new knowledge.
"Yes. I know."
She was starting to view Joshua as smug, and controlling lately. He seemed to have an air about him that gave her the feeling he felt somehow superior. Probably because he was close to the Network.
We'll see how important you are when things change,
she thought.
Things will be different then.
She smiled. She enjoyed knowing something the all-powerful Joshua didn't know.
"What's the gig, Boss?" Rosa asked with amusement.
"Go to the restroom, and sit down in the third stall. Wait there for me to call back."
As usual, the line went dead,
Typical.
Rosa crossed the dining room towards a sign that indicated the restrooms were down a narrow hallway. She approached the door to the women's restroom and the phone vibrated in her hand.
She placed it to her ear.
"The men's," Joshua said, and hung up.
Sheila peered down the hall at the door of the men's restroom. Her hands trembled.
Rosa was excited.
They had never been in a men's room before. Checking to see that no one was coming, she decided it was time they had.
Rosa became more excited at the thrill of the possibility she might be caught. She sent all of her fear and apprehension freely to the Network. Her heart raced.
One last look for good measure, then she ducked into the men's room.
Along the wall to her right were three stalls with doors. The far wall she was facing had four tall porcelain urinals that were built into the floor and stood four feet tall. There were no dividers between the urinals, and she couldn't help but wonder how many comparisons had taken place there.
Her face flushed. She was beginning to get excited. Anticipating what her next task might be she hurried to the third and last stall, snapping the latch shut behind her.
She found the small space cleaner than she would have imagined. It smelled of bleach and sanitizers. She knew it was due to Mable, or some other overworked, and underpaid person.
