Backtracker (5 page)

"
Come on, Larry,
"
said Martin, his voice softening now that
he'd
exerted his authority.
"
I
'
ll get you a uniform out of the back, and you can change right here in the locker room. What size do you take?
"

"
What sizes do you have
?
"
the new guy asked glibly, following the manager through a door into the stockroom.

"
Medium and large,
"
Dave heard Martin say before the stockroom door closed.

Dave was furious. Cursing, he slammed plates onto a rack, then shoved it through the machine with such force that all the plates clattered forward. He wished he could shove Martin through the machine instead, let the scalding jets of water burn the creep
'
s hide crimson.

Before long, Martin and Larry emerged from the stockroom. Hurrying back out to the broiler, Martin wished the new employee luck, and Larry went into the locker room to don his uniform.

Still seething, Dave grabbed an empty
bus pan
and stomped out to the dining room, as much to get away from his new problem as to clear tables for senior citizens. After a few minutes of racing around, sweeping refuse and dishes into the pan, he barreled back to his nook. Kicking open the swinging door, he let it crack gratifyingly against the wall, then smashed the
bus pan
down on a counter. Taking out his anger on the dishes, he hurled and slammed them, pitched them willy
-
nilly over the counter, flung slop everywhere.

Filling one rack with platters and another with silverware, he drove them both into the machine, then slouched over to the runway on which they emerged. Cursing and grunting, he snatched the platters from the rack in great handfuls and turned to deposit them in the cubic cart.

It was only then that he noticed that the cart was gone.

The platter cart had vanished.

Not only that, but the other cart was gone, too, the long cart.

Surprised and confused, Dave glanced quickly around the dishroom but could see no sign of either cart. They had been right there by the runway when
he'd
gone to bus tables, and now they were nowhere to be found.

Frowning with his hands full of platters, he suddenly realized that other things had changed, as well.
He'd
been so preoccupied when
he'd
returned to the dishroom that he
hadn
'
t
noticed, but now he was struck by it all. When
he'd
stormed out, there had been at least three full racks of dishes on the runway, and now they were gone. There had been eight or nine loaded
bus pans
on the counter and shelves, and now there were only four. A huge pile of dirty plates and cups had been heaped in one of the basins, and the pile was now missing.

Still holding the platters, Dave walked across the dishroom and peeked around a corner at the locker room door. It was wide open.

Larry Smith
wasn
'
t
in there.

At that moment, the door to the line snapped open, and Dave whirled around. He saw the long cart emerge first, gleaming in the fluorescent dishroom light. The cart was empty.

Larry Smith was pushing it.

"
Hey, buddy
!
"
Larry called cheerfully.
"
How
'
s that dining room shaping up?
"

Dave just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

"
One hell of a rush, huh
?
"
smiled Larry, parking the cart in its proper spot.
"
We really got swamped, didn
'
t we?
"

Gaping with astonishment at the empty cart, Dave spoke slowly.
"
What did you do while I was gone
?
"
he asked.

"
Well,
"
Larry said matter
-
of
-
factly,
"
I cleaned out a couple
bus pans
and sent some racks through the machine. There were racks of stuff that was already clean, so I unloaded all that and put it on the carts. Then, the carts were full, so I took them out front and got rid of everything.
"

"
Geez,
"
said Dave, shaking his head.
"
Are you tryi
ng to tell me that you did all
that
in the five minutes I was out in the dining room?
"

"
Uh
-
huh.
"
Larry nodded pleasantly.
"
Seeing as how we
'
re so busy, I figured I
'
d better get right to work.
"

"
Where did you
put
everything
?
"
wondered Dave, unable to believe the guy
'
s accomplishment.

"
Well, I put the salad bowls and plates in the bin by the register,
"
recounted Larry.
"
I gave the roll baskets to the assemblers, and those little bowls for the gravy and mushrooms. The cups and coffee mugs I stacked up by the drink station, and I put the silverware in that rack over the trays. I left the platter cart by the broiler, but I still have to bring back the empty one. Does that all sound about right?
"

"
Oh, yeah,
"
said Dave, still amazed.
"
That
'
s right, all right.
"

"
Great,
"
grinned Larry, scratching a spot in his
crew
-
cut
.

"
I just don
'
t understand how you knew,
"
said Dave.
"
I mean, it
'
s just your first day.
Mr. Martin told me you worked in a restaurant, but how could you know exactly
where everything goes here?
"

"
The place I worked at used to be a Wild West Steakhouse,
"
explained Larry.
"
It was down in Virginia. Company sold it a couple years ago, so it
'
s not Wild West anymore, but it was laid out almost exactly like this place.
"

"
Ohhhh,
"
nodded Dave.
"
I
see.
"

"
That was one of the reasons why Tom Martin gave me this job so quick,
'
cause I could just jump right in and start working. Plus, I
'
m a friend of Tom
'
s. Known him for years, so I guess he was doing me a favor.
"

"
Well, I
'
ve gotta
'
tell you,
"
said Dave,
"
I
'
m really impressed. I mean, thanks.
Thanks for doing all that stuff.
"

"
No sweat,
"
grinned Larry, reaching out to give Dave a friendly swat on the shoulder.
"
Just doing my job.
"

"
I really thought I
'
d have to train you,
"
smiled Dave,
"
but hey, this is great.
Maybe we can get this place caught up, after all.
"

"
That
'
s the plan, Stan,
"
laughed Larry.

At that moment, a door crashed open, and the busboy stumbled in with another overflowing load of dishes and slop. Dave
'
s bout of surprise and gratitude abruptly ended, and he snapped back like a rubber band to the urgent reality of the rush.

*****

 

By six o
'
clock, the rush had mostly run its course. All the senior citizens had evacuated the steakhouse and wandered back to their bus. Business dropped off substantially, returning to the low, steady level which was more typical of a Monday evening. In the home stretch at last, Dave and Larry continued to slug away at the mess, clearing tables which they knew
wouldn
'
t
fill up immediately, washing dishes which
wouldn
'
t
boomerang back to the dishroom quite so quickly as before. By seven o
'
clock or so, they finally finished the post
-
rush cleanup, and everything settled down. The flood of
bus pans
slowed to a trickle, the counters and shelves were bare, and the two guys actually found time to take a breather.

Leaning back against the counter, Dave wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand.
"
Man,
"
he puffed tiredly, gazing around the dormant dishroom.
"
What an evening, huh?
"

"
Sure was,
"
sighed Larry, sipping from an amber cup full of cola. That was one of the few benefits which came with working at the Wild West Steakhouse: soda was free for the taking.

"
I thought this was going to be an easy night, being Monday and all. If I
'
d known a
bus
was headed our way, I would
'
ve called off sick.
"

"
Aw, it wasn
'
t so bad,
"
Larry said with a shrug.
"
Nothing we couldn
'
t handle.
"

"
Nothing
we
couldn
'
t handle,
"
Dave said wryly,
"
but if it had just been
me
the whole time, forget it! Before
you
got here, I was about ready to throw in the towel!
"

"
Why didn
'
t Tom call somebody in to give you a hand
?
"
Larry asked with a slight frown.
"
I
'
m sure he could
'
ve gotten
someone
to come in for a few hours.
"

"
Well,
"
said Dave, catching himself just as he was about to launch a verbal assault on Mr. Martin
'
s character, remembering that Larry had said he was a friend of his.
"
I really don
'
t know. I guess maybe he figured the rush wouldn
'
t last long, so we wouldn
'
t need an extra person. Once that bus came, I guess he was probably too busy to make any phone calls.
"

"
Or maybe he
'
s just an asshole, huh
?
"
grinned Larry, slyly raising one eyebrow.

Surprised, Dave bugged his eyes wide and laughed.
"
Well,
that
'
s
possible, too,
"
he agreed.

"
Not just possible,
"
declared Larry.
"
It
'
s probable.
"

"
Well, that
'
s true,
"
grinned Dave.
"
I didn
'
t want to say it, with you being an old friend of his and all, but that
'
s definitely true.
"

Blowing out his breath, Larry rolled his eyes and dismissively waved a hand through the air.
"
Aw, don
'
t worry about that
'
friend
'
business. I said I was an old
friend of Tom
'
s, not a good
one.
"

Dave really laughed at that remark, tossed his head back and hooted. With that one quip, Larry had removed the only obstacle which could have prevented Dave from liking him
-
the possibility that he enjoyed a close friendship with the imbecilic and iron
-
fisted Mr. Martin. If Larry had been a genuine pal of Tom Martin, Dave
wouldn
'
t
have respected him and
wouldn
'
t
have been able to work with him without worrying that he was Martin
'
s spy.

"
So, where did you meet Mr. Martin, anyway
?
"
Dave asked when his laughter had finally subsided.

"
Ohio,
"
replied Larry, shaking his cola so that the ice clicked against the plastic cup.
"
We both worked in a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Dayton. Had to be at least ten years ago.
"

"
Oh yeah
?
"
said Dave.
"
So did you guys keep in touch since then? I mean, how did you know he was here?
"

"
We didn
'
t keep in touch at all, as a matter of fact,
"
explained Larry, pausing for a sip of cola.
"
To tell you the truth, till today, I hadn
'
t seen him since I left Dayton. The whole thing was pretty lucky, really. It so happens I was walking around downtown thins morning, and I bumped into Tom
'
s wife, who knew me from Dayton. She told me he was working here, and I needed a job, so I figured I
'
d just stop in and see if Tom could help me out.
"

"
No kidding
?
"
said Dave.
"
Boy, that
'
s something else, you two ending up in the same place after all this time.
"

"
Yeah,
"
nodded Larry.
"
It
'
s a real coincidence, all right.
"

"
So why
are
you in Confluence
?
"
asked Dave.
"
Where were you before this?
"

"
All
over
the place,
"
replied Larry, wagging his head.
"
You name it, I was there. New York, D.C., Atlanta, Miami, Tucson, L.A., Denver, Little Rock, everywhere. Last place I stayed was Huntington, West Virginia. I was sort of working my way north, and I hit Confluence, and I just felt like stopping here for a while. It seemed like a nice town, and I was due for a rest, so I just said what the hell, why not stick around a little?
"

"
Seriously
?
"
piped Dave, truly fascinated now.
"
You mean you just go from place to place like that?
"

"
Uh
-
huh,
"
said Larry.
"
I can
'
t handle just being stuck in one spot all the time, y
'
know?
"

"
Wow,
"
grinned Dave.
"
How long do you usually stay?
"

"
Just till I really get to like a place,
"
said Larry.
"
Soon as I start to like a place, I know it
'
s time to move on.
"

"
How come
?
"
wondered Dave.
"
If you like a place, why is it time to leave?
"

"
Because it
'
s better to leave when you still
like
a place than it is to leave when you
'
re
sick
of it. That way, there
'
s no hard feelings.
"

"
That makes sense,
"
nodded Dave.
"
Don
'
t you ever feel like staying in one place, though? Don
'
t you ever get tired of traveling?
"

"
Nope,
"
Larry said simply.
"
Never.
"

"
So where
'
s the farthest you
'
ve ever been?
"

"
Let
'
s see,
"
drawled Larry, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling.
"
Buenos Aires, I guess.
"

"
Argentina
?
"
sputtered Dave.
"
You were the whole way down there?
"

"
Sure,
"
Larry said matter
-
of
-
factly.
"
I
'
ve been the whole way up and down North and South America.
"

"
Geez,
"
sighed Dave.
"
Where are you from originally?
"

"
Turkey,
"
said Larry.
"
My dad was stationed over there when he was in the service.
"

"
Man,
"
said Dave.
"
You
'
ve been just about everywhere, huh?
"

"
Not even close,
"
chuckled Larry,
"
but I
'
m still pretty young, so maybe I
'
ll get there.
"

At that moment, the busboy kicked the door open and hoisted a tall stack of trays into the dishroom. Their conversation interrupted, Dave and Larry returned to work.

By this time, Dave Heinrich was in awe of Larry Smith. Not only was Larry a hard worker and an okay guy, but
he'd
been around the world.
He was a self
-
proclaimed drifter, a roustabout who had probably seen and done everything that there
was
to see and do. The thought of being a rover like that struck a resonant chord deep in Dave
'
s tense and fretful soul.

Dave worried too much about too many things. Secretly, he longed to liberate his spirit, cast off all the obligations and expectations which troubled him so much. Lately, especially, with graduation approaching,
he'd
been attracted to the idea of escape, of just getting out into the world and
living
without worrying about the future.

Now, out of the blue, Larry Smith had appeared
-
a man who seemed to embody the concept of freedom.

It was inevitable: Dave would have to learn all that he could about his new co
-
worker.