by Terry Mahoney

Created on: December 24, 2011

Holly had drawn the early shift and Brian, the executive chef, was the only person there as she badged in.

“What’s new on the menu tonight, Bri,” she said.

His smirk and rude gesture was the only response to her joke. Nothing was ever new on the menu at Medieval Times.

Holly got dressed in her “wench” costume and checked the reservation numbers. The four-thirty was booked solid. She would be on her way home by the time the castle grounds were filled for the second show.

She put her contribution to the Christmas party on the break room table. It was a plate of seven-layer cookies; little fat bombs that were more goo than cookie; and a bottle of vodka. She snorted at the sight. It looked like a meal a drunk in a comedy might eat, or a maybe a really sad divorcee.

She pushed the place setting cart out into the arena. The fluorescents were on, so the place looked like what it really was; a fake jousting list. She started near the royal box and laid out the number of place settings the printout indicated for each section. Her cart started to squeak when she hit the Blue Knight’s section and the noise really got to her.

She would push the cart ten feet, squeaka-squeaka-squeak, lay out the settings, then repeat. She looked around to the end, up at the higher tiers, and started to cry. She sat on the floor and took out her phone.

She listened to her messages again. Her mother telling her she could pick her up from the airport and the airline confirming her flight.

She wasn’t coming back to New York. Well, New Jersey, really. And not even Hoboken or Jersey City; East Rutherford. She would finish her shift, pick up her bags and fly back home from Newark on Christmas Eve. One more show. Her grand finale in dinner theater. She decided not to tell her agent, just to see if he would notice.

After the show ended, she changed and went to the break room. Her cookies were gone, but the bottle was still sealed. She left it there, not trusting herself alone with it.

It was full dark, and the snow blew into her eyes as she walked across the parking lot to catch the 190 bus.

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