The Shrike
She gazed through the window as the rain fell sloppily on the marshes. The cold crept up her arms and legs. She hugged herself to keep warm; rubbing her rugged hands on her arms rhythmically. It didn’t make sense to her how it could be over a 100 degrees outside and here she was shivering.
The brownish yellow marshes stretched far into the distance finally being swallowed up by the ocean. The ocean’s waters were brown, polluted.
“Ma’am,” the waiter said, making his presence felt, “are you ready?”
She had ignored him far too long. She had to respond. He was going to think something was amiss.
She pulled herself away from the marshes and responded, “No, not yet.” She hoped that would be enough to drive the man away.
It wasn’t.
The waiter hovered for another minute before saying, “Well, ma’am, you’ve been here for quite some time.”
“Just a few more minutes,” she strained her voice, “please.”
He breathed out in frustration and nodded his head slightly. He turned and walked away.
She returned to the view outside the window. She was supposed to be here an hour ago. What could have happened to her? She was beginning to get really worried.
Suddenly, she turned to the waiter who was attending a couple three tables away, “Sir?”
The waiter looked at her exasperated. She felt reproofed. Well, wasn’t he asking her to order just a few seconds ago? The waiter took his time with the couple and walked towards the kitchen. He scanned his eye in the machine and apparently the order went through. He walked back towards her.
She unwrapped her hands from her arms.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Please give me something to drink. Something strong. A cognac, maybe?” She said hesitantly.
The man bit his lip. “You decide, ma’am. A cognac, then?”
She nodded her head, “Yes, yes, a cognac would do.”
“House?”
She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like assumptions, “No, surprise me.”
A broad smiled spread across the waiter’s face. He turned towards the bar.
She went back to the window.
“Olga?” She heard her name and stood up.
“Oh, Daisy, here, I’m back here.”
Daisy rushed towards Olga. They hugged heads on each other’s shoulders while their arms held each other tightly.
“I was beginning to worry, Daisy,” Olga said as she pulled away.
Olga slid back into her chair and Daisy followed suit across from her. Their hands danced on the table unknowing if they should meet or not.
“Daisy, I didn’t know if I was going to make it.”
“Did you do it?” Olga asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Daisy said sullenly.
Olga pulled her hands to her thighs. She rubbed them softly willing heat into her legs. Olga wanted to know. She needed to know. Why would Daisy keep this from her? What was the point?
Olga took it upon herself to change the subject. “Well, then, and how is your son?”
“Ridley? Oh, he is good. Up there with one of his roommates doing only god knows what. I tried to get him back down. He wouldn’t come. He is in love.”
“Is it?” Olga lowered her voice and let the half-finished question hang in the air.
“Yes,” Daisy responded quickly.
“Are they happy?” Olga asked.
“I guess, how should I know. I told them,” Daisy raised her voice before lowering it again to barely a whisper, “they wouldn’t be happy up there. I told them changes. There you go again. I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Olga opened her eyes wide. “I didn’t bring it up.”
Daisy frowned. “You know where Ridley is. You know.” Daisy started crying.
“Oh, Daisy.”
“I see your guest has arrived,” the waiter said as he placed Olga’s drink in front of her. “Anything for you ma’am?”
Daisy shook her head. She covered her face with a napkin.
The waiter looked flustered.
“She will have what I am having, thank you,” Olga said quickly, dismissively.
The waiter left.
“I can’t stand waiters,” Daisy said composing herself.
“I don’t like restaurants,” Olga said staring back out the window.
“Did anyone recognize you coming in?” Daisy asked.
“No, well, at least I don’t think so,” Olga said looking back at Daisy, “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it?”
Daisy let her hands slide closer to Olga’s side of the table. Olga took the bait and grabbed Daisy’s hands. They pressed firmly on each other’s hand.
“You know I have to talk about it,” Daisy said.
Olga simply nodded and pressed again on Daisy’s soft fingers.
“I went through with it.”
Olga gasped silently.
“Your drink ma’am,” the waiter said placing the glass on the table. “Would you like the check?”
“Of course not,” Daisy said annoyed, “can’t you see we are in the middle of a conversation.”
The waiter moved away attempting to hide a snarl.
Olga was excited. She was afraid. She didn’t have any words to describe what she felt.
Daisy let go of Olga’s hands suddenly. The cold overtook her fingers quickly. Daisy’s warmth faded fast.
Daisy looked outside. “What have we done? What have I done?”
Olga turned to stare at the marshes and the brown ocean. She was conflicted also.
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” Olga finally said pensively, “there is no turning back.”
Tears formed in Daisy’s eyes again. She was on the verge of crying. Their drinks sat on the table untouched.
Olga hugged herself again. “Listen, we did it for Ridley. We did it for Juan. For our children. It is their future we are protecting.”
“Future?” Daisy said almost laughing.
“Well, yes, Daisy, do you want them to live like that waiter? That’s no life at all. How much of the actual human remains in there?”
“We are condemning them,” Daisy paused and bit her lip, “and us to a premature death.”
Olga shook her head violently, “No. I won’t let you speak like that. Not premature. A natural death.”
“Oh, Olga, I know. I know but it is scary. Don’t pretend it is not.”
Olga grabbed her hair and wrestled it to one side of her head. “Yes, it’s scary. But. We need healing,” Olga was breaking down. Her voice cracked, “don’t we?”
“Don’t cry,” Daisy said, “if you cry, then I’ll start crying and there won’t be anyone to stop me.”
The waiter rushed to one of the tables he was attending. He spoke to the patrons quickly and came to Olga’s table.
“Did you hear?” He asked in a high pitched voice.
“We don’t have implants,” Daisy replied.
The waiter stepped back surprised, “someone has released a virus into the nexus.”
Olga and Daisy remained silent.
“Don’t you know what that means? Why are you so calm? The world as we know it will collapse. Billions are going to die. We are talking about the extinction of the human race.” The waiter brought a metal hand to his face. He was agitated. The metal fingers twitched uncontrollably. He was very old. Most of his body was metal.
“No,” Daisy said looking straight at the cyborg, “your kind will finally die to make way for a healthier generation.” A smile broke at the corners of her lips. “Now, we are ready for our check.”
