Where is the Wind? (Chapter Three - Part Two)
by Dannielle Viera
That sounded simple enough! The Wind saw that the table in question had a big ‘5’ on its side, so it was easy to find. He grabbed the pad and pencil, and made his way over to the table. Smiling at the man and woman sitting at the table, he said politely, ‘Hello, what would you like to order today?’ He listened closely to what they said, wrote down what they told him, and took the paper to the chef.
While the meals were being cooked, the Wind looked around at the other waiters. They seemed to be bringing water jugs to their tables, so the Wind did the same. The man at table five grunted ‘Thanks’ and went on looking at his phone. The Wind grinned – this job was easy! When it was time to bring the plates of food over to the table, the Wind carried them carefully so he wouldn’t drop them on the ground. He couldn’t wait to be praised for doing a great job.
However, when he placed the plates onto the table, the people did not smile at him. They did not thank him. In fact, they looked very annoyed. ‘What is this?’ the man yelled. ‘I ordered a brisket, not a biscuit! Do you even know what brisket is?’
The Wind shook his head, upset at his mistake. ‘No sir,’ he mumbled.
‘And my soup is cold,’ shouted the woman. ‘Didn’t you notice that there was no steam coming out of the bowl?’
The Wind backed away from the table, looking from the man to the woman in horror. His face went as red as a tomato, and he started to bawl. Every time he let out a loud sob, a blast of air burst out of his mouth. He turned his face this way and that, trying to stop the damage, but it only made things worse. Chairs and tables skidded across the floor, while water jugs whizzed through the cafe and dumped their soggy load onto shocked diners. In the middle of the chaos, serviettes took off into the air like elegant white butterflies.
The manager ran over to the Wind and shook a fist at him angrily. ‘What is going on here?’ he screamed. ‘You’re ruining my beautiful business! Get out of my cafe, and don’t come back!’