Kiss of the Plum Boy

{1984}

(Imagine Tom as a repair man... Can't? Me either. But if he was, this is how things would happen.)

Tom walked across to Scrappe on his lunch hour under a scrubbed blue sky, carefully avoiding the reflecting puddles on the asphalt.

He found the door he wanted at the end of the cafe. The sign beside the door said "Employees Only."

Tom pushed open the door.

"Come." A woman's voice.

Cool, absolute darkness. The gurgle of water, the familiar smell of swiss cheese, and a trace of perfume.

"I'm Tom Keifer. I came about the washer."

"Oh, good. Excuse me, my mouth's full. I was just finishing lunch."

He heard papers wadded and dropped in a wastebasket.

"Actually, Holly wanted the washer," said the voice in the dark. "She's on vacation. I'll show you, if you don't mind a short wait."

"All right."

"Put your back against the door"--her voice took on a touch of the practiced tone--"come forward three steps, until you feel the tile under your feet, and there'll be a stool just to your left. Sorry it's so dark. I'm new here and i don't think there is lights in this room. Strange, don't you think?"

He found the chair. He was closer to her now. He could hear the rustle of her apron.

"Thanks for coming down," she said. Her voice was clear. "You're head of whatever over in the big building, right?"

"Um-humm."

"The same 'Mr. K.' who sends the files wrong?"

"The very one."

"I'm Kayla. Hope there's nothing wrong over there."

"Not my project anymore. I just planned the construction when they bought the place. i haven't been over here in six months."

"Just a minute more and Fred should see about getting us some light. Do you need a tape measure?"

"I have one."

Tom found it rather pleasant, talking to the woman in the dark. He heard the rattle of a purse being rummaged, the click of a compact.

He was sorry when the lights flickered on.

"There we go. i'll put this stuff in the back," she said.

He felt a breath of cold air and heard a cabinet close on rubber seals. A puff of air, and fragrance touched him as she passed.

The lights came on. She stood by the door smiling in his approximate direction. Her eyes made small random movements around the room. Shifty eyes. Tom grew nervous.

He smiled. "Do you think i could have a plum?" he said. There were several on the counter where she had been sitting.

"Sure, they're really good."

Kayla was about twenty, with a pretty face shaped by good bones and resolution. She had a small freckle on the bridge of her nose. Her hair was a mixture of blonde and dark brown, cut just above her shoulders and feathered away from her face.

"I'll show you the washer and where she wants to put it," she said. "We can get the measuring done."

♥♥♥

Kayla counted her plums after Tom left. He had taken one.