Serendipity

[Birdee]

When the guy in the driver's seat said his name was Louvel, Birdee just nodded her head at him. Without thinking anything about it, she just said, as if they were some long time acquaintance and familiar with the other, "Nice to meet ya, Lou." Louvel seems rich, and stuffy and Birdee decided he wasn't a Louvel in her mind. Just Lou.

Her eyes moved down to the coat and she slowly nodded. "Pretty much, I mean I could use some other stuff, but this is the most important." Birdee said, the words rolling right off her tongue. When 'Lou' said he was leaving with more than he came for, Birdee glanced around them to see signs of his purchases. When she came up short, she put two and two together and then laughed. "Must be your lucky day!" She concluded with a boisterous laugh, before adding on. "Not everyone knows about this little gem, I'm taking ya to. So, you're darn lucky, ya met me today." Was Birdee egotistical? Not really, but she had a feeling his statement was more of a negative than a positive and so she flipped it to become a positive in her mind. "At the third set of lights, be sure to be in the left lane. You'll turn there and then get in the far right. It's about half way down the block. Can't miss it. If you see a parking spot, just grab it. Gets busy and there's only street parking. Don't look for anything closer. I can walk." Birdee concluded as 'Lou' got into the left lane, her fingers playing with the fabric of the coat as she sat cozied up to the door and window. Just in case he was one of those people. The shady as frick kind and had to make a quick escape.

When they turned as she instructed him to do so, her green eyes peeled right open, as they both looked for a space to park. When she saw one, Birdee pointed excitedly, her hand more or less bouncing while she pointed. "There! There's a spot! Behind that red four door, thing." Birdee exclaimed as they approached the parking spot she saw.

[Louvel von der Marck]

“I am looking forward to it.”

Louvel had an appetite just like anyone else. Generally it was one of those that craved what would be considered healthy fuel for the body and serving a purpose. He was not one to head for the golden arches or microwave anything that came out of some wax paper or plastic wrapper. Mara was an amazing cook and hostess so there was never that unhealthy habit rooted in him. Fast food, fast fixes and long lasting repercussions.

“You new to the city or…” A quick set of reflexes had the old as dirt vehicle swerving just in time to avoid a car weaving through traffic with a massive evergreen tied down on the roof of the pea green compact Renault beneath it. “Sorry about that.” He gave her a look once they were safely heading to the intersection of the third set of lights. He signaled for his intention to turn left once he merged into the left lane as she directed. “All it takes is the holiday rush and it seems that everyone forgets that other people on the road.”

The car with the tree harnessed to the roof suddenly has its four way blinkers flashing and the driver’s door opens allowing a rather well aged gentleman to step out. With a wide slow wave he motions for the cars behind him to go around. A pull of the large steering wheel has the truck going around and proceeding into the intersection as originally planned.

“Seems like you are right.” He commented as they drove up to a long line of street parking spaces occupied with a variety of vehicles. Just as he was about to pass by and make a trip around the block a SUV rolled out in front of them and he hit the brakes just in time that he could back up without inconveniencing the traffic behind them gradually approaching. “I think we just got lucky.”

A brief ride backwards and then forward with the steering wheel cranked tight had the truck he couldn’t imagine giving up snuggly parked given its length and width. With a creaking sound all too familiar his door went open as he pulled the keys from the ignition. He locked the door and made his way around fumbling with the door handle until it released and allowed him to open the door for her. He smiled a little and waited for her to hop out. It was no carriage and there was no ball to attend. He felt it was better to be safe than sorry in extending his hand and giving her the impression he was trying to be forward, which he wasn’t.

“Hope it is better than it looks.” The place appeared packed from what he could see through the windows. It didn’t have five star screaming in the interior but then again neither did that amazing and off the charts and map place in Peru that he was watering at the mouth recalling. “Looks can be very deceiving.” He winked unaware that his creep factor may have jumped instantly on her radar for what he just did.

[Birdee]

When the SUV nearly hit them, Birdee’s fingers brushed against the dashboard, anticipating some form of impact; preparing to brace herself. It never came, and a breath of air was expelled from her lungs in the form of a sigh of relief. When ‘Lou’ mentioned being lucky, Birdee nodded her head in agreement. Birdee was a big believer in luck, but also believed that things happened, or didn’t happen depending on how the planets were aligned, the barometric pressure in the air, and the way the earth was tilted on its axis that day. And karma; birdee was a big believer in that being delivered in its variety of forms.

Birdee was busy gathering the coat, when ‘Lou’ got out of his side of the truck and came around to open her door. She had just about been ready to budge the door open with her shoulder, her hand already on the handle, when Louvel beat her to the punch line. A look was thrown his way, that more or less spoke of the attitude of, ‘do I look like a lady?’ but was never said aloud, because Birdee didn’t want to go through the whole nice gesture spiel with the guy again.

Birdee hopped out of the truck, and then hopped again to get out of the way of the closing door, and finally tugged the brand new coat around her body. Did she care that the price tag was still on, swinging in the wind? Frick no. Even if it looked like Birdee just pulled a five finger discount tactic less than five minutes ago.

Both of her hands were simultaneously stuffed in her coat pockets as they headed to the diner. ‘Lou’s’ comment didn’t go amiss, Birdee’s eyes peering through the large bay windows of the food joint. “What they lack in appearance, they make up for in taste. Trust me-this place cures any hangover or munchie craving.” Birdee openly testified as she pulled open the door to the business that was bustling.

Instantly, the woman felt her mouth water as the strong whiff of bacon clung in the air, along with the smell of their infamous pancakes. Birdee could almost taste the soft, fluffy, buttermilk pancakes melting in her mouth, but when her leafy colored irises found Louvel, Birdee snorted. “You wouldn’t believe it, buddy.” Birdee wasn’t bothered by the wink in any way. But she definitely understood the value of that statement.

It wasn’t long after they sat that a waitress came by and placed some water in front of the both of them and rattled off the specials of the day, in a way that spoke of her veteran years of being a waitress at the place. Of course, Birdee had seen her at least half a dozen times, so she just waved a little at the woman after she was done telling them about the specials. The woman asked if they wanted anything to drink and Birdee gave her the typical, half cranberry, half sprite order. The only way Birdee drank the stuff, because she could taste the carbonation more than anything else. Once she got both drink orders, the woman darted off to get those drinks and give them time to look at the menu. Birdee knew what she wanted, so didn’t bother looking at it. “If you like pancakes, they’ve got the best in town. But for something more heartier, their skillets ain’t bad either.” She suggested before leaning back in the booth and giving Louvel the once over. “So what’s your deal? Your story, I mean? Other than being a dude that goes around doing simple acts of kindness?”

[Louvel von der Marck]

The bulk of the jacket on his shoulders was worked off as he watched the waitress disappearing from their table to retrieve their drink orders. Once he deposited the jacket beside him on the seat he slid into what was surprisingly comfortable despite the general appearance. For Louvel it was a good sign. He had slept on the side of cliffs, found comfort in the simplicity of the earth beneath wherever in the world his feet were planted and savored the elements during all of the above. Being in the busy and warm diner on an otherwise cold day with a new face asking him who he was as if she was interested was a bonus.

“Pancakes are great.” He focused on her while the stretch of his arms and their alternating movements made it easy to slide up the sleeve on each arm to get more comfortable. “Buttermilk and almond is always a good start.” He reached for the menu that appeared to be for his viewing and opened it. He glanced over the options then back to her. “Skillets, eh?”

The selections seemed versatile and were open to catering to those who needed all the meat available as well as the ones who ate light and opted for a vegetable centered diet. He flipped the menu closed and took a quick look at the back to see if he was missing anything else that could be there. Finding desserts that made his sweet tooth tingle he opened the menu and focused on what they were there for. Breakfast.

“I think I am ready when she comes back.”

He set the menu on the table between them filling up part of the empty space that would eventually be covered in hot plates. He rolled his shoulders back in a slow relaxed manner that said he was getting comfortable. He resisted the urge to run his hand through the top of his head and pull back and unruly strands of hair that happened to be close to becoming a minor annoyance. Instead he felt inclined to answer her question because it wasn’t often someone asked.

“Well, since you asked…” He paused when he spotted their waitress on the move with a very appetizing large serving tray full of food. A smile and a nod as she passed was delivered. “My story is currently in progress. At least I like to think so.” He chuckled. “I don’t know what all you want to know outside the obvious. I use the boots I was picking up to hike in various parts of the world. I like extremes and exploring the places they can be found. I have always tried to practice kindness and sappy as it sounds my mother taught me that it is not just important but it is part of being human.”

The waitress floats back through and spots the menu left on the table. Louvel picked it up and propped it back where it was before he looked it over. Once the signal that they were ready to order was completed he smiled and settled back where he had been letting the back of the seat support him. Birdee had his curiosity piqued at first sight and it was only growing as he found himself in a diner about to have a random meal with her.

“I maintain the grounds and buildings of a large estate. It is not so much a job as a role of sorts that I was born into. It made it easier when deciding what I wanted to do with my college courses and planning my future. It is flexible, fulfilling and I am pretty damn lucky.” He picked at the edge of the table in front of him briefly then set his mossy orbs to focus on her. “What about you. Birdee. There has to be a story that goes with that.” The right corner of his mouth lifted slowly. “I would venture to bet that you have more than a few stories. I am all ears if you care to share.”

[Birdee]

Unlike Louvel, Birdee kept her jacket on while he spoke, even going so far as to occasionally wrap her arms around her body as if it were some sort of security blanket for the young woman. When Louvel talked about going hiking and basically all things outdoors, Birdee just glanced at him with a vacant, and glossy stare in her eyes. She could imagine everything he said as being true, Birdee supposed, but it still surprised her. While Louvel had this sort of unkept appearance to his whole being, it was sort of a 'posh' sort of unkept. Unlike Birdee who had just a complete unkept sort of disposition. Even though she showered daily, by three p.m. Birdee was looking a little rough due to all the excess sweat (more than likely due to her drug abuse).

"No real big story," Birdee started, laughing a little. "My mom was-is a hippee." The woman corrected herself before a finger went under the sleeve of the right side of her coat, and scratched at the under side of her arm there. "My mom is a flight attendant-part time." Her eyes bounced around, as if looking for an escape route, but was more or less looking for a way to escape the conversation, as having never thought that she would have had the table turned on her. "Part time. She's a survivor of cancer, and then another cancer scare about eight or nine months ago. It's all taken a lot of out her these last few years." Birdee's eyes landed on the waitress, then waved her over, looking for a 'savior' for the moment.

"Which is why I'm kinda in Canada. It's a long story, but yeah." Birdee slowly concluded, not wanting to share her entire life story with Louvel, even if he gave some snippets of his own life. "I used to do this-but found out I have a very limited attention span to stupid people, and there's a lot of them out there...so...now I work at a club, stocking supplies more or less. It's called Wonderland; it's pretty dope." Birdee attested as the waitress came back and offered her pearly white smile and a question. "Ya'll ready to order now?"

[Louvel von der Marck]

A warmth found him as he watched her closely. The haze of her eyes was unquestionable to him as the lids that framed each beautiful orb barely moved. She could be several places at once. She was a traveler and an adventurer of sorts. He imagined she was on her journey longer than most could appreciate. Her face and it’s features were tired and raw telling a story that her spoken words left out. The lines of fatigue were hidden or non existent which made her a hard core rebel in his eyes. With or without a cause there she was across the table from him and it was all so surreal. Mara told him about souls such as the one staring back at him. Her face was etched somewhere and he was nearly certain of it. It had to be.

Something...perhaps everything about her held his attention even as the sounds of a glass breaking did it’s best to distract as well as those hovering over the waitress who was picking up the pieces from the diner floor. The shine of time on her skin spent treading through the chemical fog that brought it on was not lost on him. He was raised by Mara von der Marck. A true child of the earth, the heavens and the artistic awareness that went with the beauty all of it had to offer. She taught him about the places some could go, where she had been herself more than a few times.

Vin Mariani and Thomas Edison were known to be hand in hand. The pages of ‘One who flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ was dusted to fruition with the generous aid of LSD. Nietzsche and his opium, Huxley’s love affair with mescaline fed his enlightenment, Picasso and hashish, morphine and opium. All of the greats, the masters of art and science and those on the rise in the living and breathing world around him had their preferences just as he had his.

Running against time, taking chances that are suited for a dying man at best were what fed him what he needed. Hanging on a cliff for another chance at life did it for him. The rush of the death defying altitudes brought him higher than the surfaces under his hands and feet. Mara came to mind as she continued speaking about her own mother. The corners of his mouth lifted briefly then slowly dissolved as the waitress arrived tableside for their order. He couldn’t help but hold onto her claim that Wonderland was dope as he shifted his gaze up to the waitress. It was no surprise he missed out on the existence of such a place. Going out for Louvel meant outdoors as far as he could get from any buildings.

“I think so. Birdee is going to order first.” He pulled his eyes from the veteran waitress and landed his focus back on her.

[Birdee]

Birdee didn't notice Louvel really looking at her. Not with her eyes bouncing around the room, taking in the people leaving, the people coming in, attempting to focus on any and all sounds to recognize their source; and finding the low hum of the dessert pie refrigerator near the counter where someone who wanted just a soda or coffee and some pie usually sat. The sound was familiar as it was hypnotic, taking Birdee back in time to a few months ago when she found this place with a group of friends. But the memory didn't stop there; it went even further. To a time when she was a young girl and at her grandmother's house. It was the same hum, or very close to, maybe a decibel higher. And in that memory of Birdee sitting on the tiled black and white floor in her grandmother's house, she was brought back to the smells of the place. It always smelled like rolls, bread or something similar. Like the woman was always baking-which in today's time she was. Her grandmother always complained about how sweet the bread was and missed the good ole days when people baked. So when the woman retired and moved to live with Birdee and her mom in California, the woman picked baking right back up. She smiled at the thought and shifted her eyes when there was a sudden sharp sound in the room over the low dull sounds of talking and that humming fridge.

A few seconds later their waitress was back and Louvel was putting Birdee on the 'spot' more or less. "The pancakes or your special skillet?" the waitress asked with her small note pad and black pen in her hand as she smiled down at Birdee. "Ahhhh, well." Birdee paused and thought about it. The pancakes were the safer choice, and she did like them. A lot. "The three meat skillet-with some dic-" The waitress looked at Birdee and then finished the sentence. "Diced green olives, right?" Birdee nodded her head and laughed before shrugging her shoulders. "Everyone needs their veggies, right?" She looked to Louvel, pretty much expecting the reaction she always got when someone learned about her 'different' preferences in dishes.

[Louvel von der Marck]

Louvel was ready to roll with his order. The scent of almond hidden somewhere within the nearby stack of pancakes had his appetite rising as the seconds went by along with his curiosity about what she just ordered. Below the hard surface between them a monster size hunger was making itself known. With the low rumbles of the invincible walls trying to devour the remnants of the minimal leftover contents within he made his final mental choice on what he was going to put inside for fuel to serve the rest of his day. The keeper was an adventurer down to the currently close to empty pit of his stomach. It applied to everything he took in through his six senses. What would the mysterious three meat skillet held down by green olives taste like with some sweet pepper strips,vidalia onions and a healthy size portion of portobellos? He was brave enough to find out.

“I will take what she is having.” His eyes rolled up just enough to connect with the one taking the order. Mossy hued orbs couldn’t help but notice the graying of the hair that framed the face waiting to hear he was good with just that so she could be on her way. “Can the cook add sweet pepper strips, vidalia onions and portobellos to mine?”

The waitress stood still for a moment and the lack of movement was leaving Louvel hopeful that it could actually be done. That was when the waitress leaned in and pulled out the menu ignoring the two sitting across from each other. A visible effort on the woman’s part took hold of the moment as the laminated list of options was flipped back and forth quickly. A few seconds later the menu was slid back into place and the pad in her hard working hands shifted.

“No on the sweet peppers unless you brought your own?” A snap of gum moving to the other side of her mouth interrupted his focus on what she was saying. He blinked. “The onions are doable but our award winning Doog’s doesn’t cut them all fancy like you may be expecting. He does his own thing back there and we take what we can get when he is working his grill. Mushrooms are not a deal breaker if you are willing to pay for the extras. Does that sound negotiable or do you need a few more moments to take another look at the menu?"
“I am good with that.” Louvel was all too aware the waitress was one of those that could find reasons for his order, and Birdee’s for that matter, to be delayed if he pushed his luck. “How is the coffee?”
“Constantly brewing and caffeinated.” Her writing instrument moved to the pad scratching out whatever it was that constituted his order. “I will bring you your own pot so you can decide how close to home I am on that.”

Once the waitress disappeared he looked over to Birdee and nodded. His hands resurfaced on the edge of the table with an appreciative stroke that discovered inconsistencies in the top coat product that sealed it for protection from the excessive sanitizing wipe downs that generally were supposed to happen in public dining establishments. He was rewarded in the contact with a small sticky lump that inspired his hands to retract and fold together on the tabletop to stay still.

“So if you are not found to be hanging here or in Wonderland where else would you be? Not so much specifically where but what would you be up to?” He added quickly to cover the fact he was not some creepy dude ready to stalk her at any free moment he had. “All work and no play makes for a very bored Birdee I would imagine.”

[Birdee]

Birdee watched her almost regular waitress with her flair and attitude at Louvel, the woman pressing her lips tight together to keep from snorting and then laughing. She was like that, until someone became a familiar face or regular. One too many times had she been shafted on the tip front, so the woman didn't hold any real hopes for getting them anymore from newbies. One time she had even had someone do a dine and dash on her. Birdee didn't miss waitressing and putting up with ungrateful customers and the endless amount of complaints.

When Louvel said he would have what she was having, exactly so, but with addeds, Birdee's jaw dropped and she couldn't help but gawk a little. Very slowly her jaw closed as the woman finished taking the order and the dirty dishwater blonde woman sitting across from Louvel finally spoke up."You know that's like super weird, right?" Birdee looked around and then nodded to the where the cook was at. "First time I ordered that, she asked me three times if I had actually ordered olives. I guess people don't order them a lot, and then on top of that, people don't tend to put olives in anything of the breakfast sort." Birdee frowned a little, her green freckled irises locked on to Louvel.

"I do stuff. I like shrooms too." There was a crack of a smile in her lips before Birdee shrugged her shoulders. Like she was going to tell him that she lit up about every night on something or another, or got drunk if she wasn't doing that. He was practically a stranger. Practically. With narrowed eyes, Birdee crossed her arms and set them on top the table, leaning in. "How old are you? The woman asked, a seemingly random question at the time, but not so random to her. "I figure we've got to be around the same age. You're like...what? Thirty-ish? Give or take a couple years?" Suddenly things just seemed to be really 'strange.' Or maybe, it was just a random string of coincidences that were leading to a bigger picture. Suddenly, her gaze broke from Lou's face to look around the restaurant, as if Birdee were expecting to see someone she knew there-or at least a familiar face. When she didn't, Birdee cleared her throat and then looked to where Louvel's hands were at. "Ever have your palm read before?" Her green eyes looked back up to his face, waiting for a reaction; good or bad.

[Louvel von der Marck]

“I have made a seven course meal out of what I had in one expedition pack thanks to the wrong step that had me stranded for a couple nights at 24,000 feet. Olives are not weird for breakfast. Sucking on leather ties imagining they are licorice quite possibly is.”

The confession of sorts was left to hang briefly as he checked out the smirk that appeared at her lips with the mention of shrooms. She had glossed over the acceptable ingredients for omelets and fessed up to how she liked her mushrooms. The fungi weren’t limited to breakfast or pizza in Birdee’s book. Part of Louvel wanted to tell her that a natural high could be found in what they commonly referred to as the Death Zone. At 26,000 feet it is difficult to get any higher than that. The effects are unmatchable. It was a rare to find anyone sharing such an extreme appreciation and so he left it unsaid.

“Good guess.” He gave a nod at the call out of his thirty-two years of life already spent.

For Louvel age was only a number and he didn’t make it a habit of focusing on the average lifespan and where he fit into it all. Trucks ran road signs, cables holding him on the side of cliffs could always give way and his heart could stop as soon as he stood up to walk away from where they were currently sitting. Epic moments and the experiences within were the markers for him. No cake or party could hold a candle to how he felt in his twenty-ninth year standing on Everest and feeling what it was like to be on top of the world.

Before he got caught up in where his years had been invested palm reading was mentioned. It was enough of a distraction that his mossy orbs took a brief glance at his hands as the fingers stretched out to reveal his palms. Both the left and the right were nice and clean. The veins spidering over the tops of each hand were visual hints at strength and health he had an abundance of. Both of which had played huge parts in the formed routes of venous highway that were palpable with the right pressure. The palms bared told more truth as to who Louvel von der Marck was about. Each wore the rough badges of calluses that went with hard manual work and recreation.

“No, I haven’t.” Briefly his mind drifted to the revelation that of all that he had done that was not one of them. His hands flipped back and forth slowly as if he was weighing his options on how to change that. “Never got around to it, I guess.”

His hands went down to the table to rest and his eyes followed each one. Lines were a big deal in the reading. That much he could recall of the limited information he heard about it. Life lines and something to do with the heart. He was pretty sure anything that would be a marker for relationships would be short or broken visibly. He didn’t need a second investigative glance to know that.

“How about you?” His eyes were on her watching the expression that would eventually find her features. “You ever have your palm read?” He had a thought. “Question.” He leaned in just a little with increased interest. “Say you have had cuts to your hands from rigorous climbing, general forging mishaps or whatever. Would that give a false reading?” His sun conditioned brows lifted playfully but his face appeared far more serious than one trying to brush off the possibility altogether. His body settled back and got comfortable. “My palms just may be impossible to give an accurate reading.”