“Ayuko!”
Ayuko took a deep breath.
“Let me see the green onions!”
Ayuko exhaled. The yelling had developed into a daily ritual. She showed her chef the small metal container filled with her somewhat coarsely chopped green onions.
“I’ve told you a million times to chop them finer!” The red-faced man barked, angrily waving around his little white hat.
“Any finer and they turn into a mushy paste!” she responded.
“I trained you, and look at what you’ve turned into. Why can’t you just listen! Finer!” The chef screamed, his face changing shades like a chameleon.
“I’m not some robot for you to program! I’m not gonna mince the green onions!” She rebutted.
“Get out! I’ve had enough of you today!” The purple-faced man exclaimed.
Ayuko rolled her eyes, hung her apron, and exhaled her way out the back door. She wasn’t upset to be kicked out again, and knew she’d show up tomorrow with the episode forgotten, yet likely to happen again. The first step to resetting this ritual would start now, as she found a seat in the back alley and lit up her post-shift cigarette. After a few encumbered inhales, an eccentric man with whimsical movements made his way towards her, already mid-sentence.
“...from a thousand feet, I could see it was negative, just like a cloud. We’re all clouds. It’s basically raining Donica right now! We’re all nitrogen and glistening carbon.” He stopped and stared at Ayuko smoking her cigarette. Slightly swaying, he locked in and moved his lanky body closer. Although he was much taller and bigger than her, his dirt smudged face did not seem dangerous to Ayuko, only desperate.
“Hey, listen, I know what this is. It’s... it’s... it’s all controlled! This is the key right here.” From his trench coat he procured a small ratty black book. She stared at the object in his dirt-stained hands, not wanting to touch it.
“Big money, no whammies... Ayuko! ” His tone changed from erratic to precise.
The sudden shift in demeanor and directness of hearing her name sharpened Ayuko’s attention.
“I got ideas! This was supposed to be the key right here. But the universe…. It told me I’m supposed to give this to you. It told me! It’s telling me ‘big money, no whammies!’ But this is for you.. Not me.”
She reluctantly took the book and examined it, turning it over in her hands. She looked up to find the man gone.
“How did he know my name?” She asked no one in particular.
“The universe told me.” The man answered from behind the nearest dumpster, massaging a few bags of misplaced trash as if he were fluffing goose-down pillows, and settled into his comforter.
“I worked to be
Everything I needed
I created
That’s right and abated for you
Sweet destiny
Sweet infamy
Goodbye eternally
Sweet poverty
Destiny is calling me
Goodbye patient poverty
Though I’ll never need it
There I think I’ll keep it
Locked in an iron cell
Destiny keeps it well”
Between the sauce stains and the yellowed pages, Ayuko found a collection of thoughts of a rambling man.
On one page was a poorly drawn Daffy Duck wearing black nail polish. Another page was filled with one-liners such as, “today I found my friends, they’re in my head” and “he’s the one who likes our pretty songs.” Followed by a page containing a worrisome amount of quotes about guns. Another page had a sketch of a bearded person wearing a dress. And yet another contained life reminders: ‘drink lots of water’ and ‘stand up straight’.
Ayuko was most interested in the song about the iron cell. It was the only page that seemed like a complete thought. Between the song and the final page of the book was something strange: Hundreds and hundreds of Kurt Kobain signatures. And finally, at the very back of the book was an address. Ayuko recognized it as the part of town in which she was never welcome-- up the hill and into the gated communities.
She felt her body creak, not realizing how much time had passed between the pages of the book. Something about the song captivated her. She looked at the address again.
“I feel up for a drive,” she thought to herself.
It was already late, and the address was about 30 minutes away. She looked around and wondered if her eccentric dumpster friend was still deep in sleep. She went and peeked. Sure enough, he hadn’t moved.
“Hey, you. Hey, Mr. Universe!” She gave him a rustle with her foot.
Her question was received with a grunt.
“Have you been to this address? The one on the last page?” She inquired.
Another grunt. “Aykuro....” he warbled, “Do I.. look mobile? Why would I wanna.. .go there”
Ayuko took that for a no. On any other given day, she would have chalked this experience up to another alleyway interaction with a local, wandering misfit. But today, in the slump of her frustrations and exasperation, she decided to answer “The Universe’s” call.
It was a 30 minute drive across town. Siri guided her to a suburban neighborhood, then to a cul-de-sac at the top of a hill, then down a long driveway lined with towering oak trees; and finally to a well-kept elegant house. The lights were on and some of the curtains were drawn back. Not being a snoop, rather just observant, she peeked in and saw a well decorated living room with elaborate furnishings. She gave a knock on the front door and waited. A sandy blonde lady in her sixties answered. She didn’t seem surprised to see Ayuko, and, in fact, seemed emotionless all together .
“Yes?” The lady said calmly.
“Uhm, hi, uhh... I actually don’t really know what to say. So, I... uhm I guess was given, this black notebook, and it has some personal... stuff in there. And there was an address, and I thought to just.. return it or...”
“Oh! Please let me see!” She snatched the book out of Ayuko’s hands and flipped through it. Her eyes grew slightly wild as she locked on to Ayuko.
“Have you seen him recently?! When did you see him? Where is he?” She inquired as she advanced towards Ayuko.
Ayuko stumbled back as she almost fell off the porch step. “Ahhhm.. you mean Mr. Universe?”
“My baby Kurt! Francis get over here! This girl found Kurt,” the blonde lady shouted.
“Please can you take us to him? I’ll explain on the way!”
Ayuko and the blonde lady drove in one car, and the husband followed in his own car.
“Ohhh I hope he is okay.” The blonde lady started. “My name is Cathy by the way. This has been the worst year. I never sleep, I can’t stop worrying, day and night.. The not knowing! Where to start.. You see our boy Kurt is very very talented. A virtuoso! We thought he might be a genius! We had him tested...Anyways. He’s very musical and we encouraged that since he was young. When he was about 21 he started a cover band of that Nirvana.” She said the name “Nirvana” as if it wasn’t a part of her gated-community vocabulary.
Kurt was the lead singer and he played his part convincingly. He grew the hair, he had the rings, all of that. He wanted to be just like him. The singing, the talking….. At his 27th birthday it began to get worrisome. He started using drugs and talking about the universe! He would tell me over and over “This is the year! Big money… no whammies” Then on his birthday, he told me about this… this club. He said that it was his destiny, and that it was all decided by the universe. He had a bit of a fit, I had to calm him down and put him to bed. But the next day he was gone! And Now he’s been missing for an entire year. We don’t even know if he’s alive. Tonight was especially difficult, it’s his birthday again, and tomorrow he will be 28. I just hope we can find him and keep him safe for one more day!”
They all arrived at the alley where Kurt was last seen. Cathy leapt out of the car, frantically shouting ‘Kurt!’, completely unaware she was running in the wrong direction.
“Uhm.. wrong dumpster, over here!” Ayuko said
“Where is he?? Where’s my kurt?! There’s no one here!” She screamed. Indeed there was no one there, and all that was left was an imprint on a few bags of garbage.
Outside of the empty dumpster alley, she opened the pages of the book once more, searching for another clue in Kurt’s last documented thoughts. Before a collection of blank pages, Ayuko found one set of scribbled lyrics that she vaguely recognized being the work of real Kurt Cobain:
“Underneath the bridge
Tarp has sprung a leak
And the animals I've trapped
Have all become my pets
And I'm living off of grass
And the drippings from the ceiling
It's okay to eat fish
Cause they don't have any feelings”
The Kurts were more alike than she realized. She knew exactly which bridge Kurt would be under. There was only one nearby that was close to water. They arrived under the bridge and found Kurt walking out into the water, holding a giant rock. He was singing, like a drone ‘it’s okay to eat fish, cause they don’t have any feelings’’. His parents shouted as they saw him “Kurt! Stop!”
“It’s too late! It’s my destiny! I will never reach 28!” Kurt shouted.
“But you have!” Ayuko shouted. There was a pause. “Your birthday was yesterday! Your parents told me!”
Kurt’s parents looked confused for half a second, then Cathy stammered “Yes… dear! Your birthday was yesterday! You have the days confused, you’re 28!”
Kurt stood in the water baffled. He looked at the rock he was holding. He looked up at the bridge. He looked up at his parents. “But… it’s still okay to eat fish?” He inquired
“Yes, sweetie. You can eat fish, just come out of the water,” Cathy consoled.
Kurt slowly made his way out of the water, and his parents, with cries of relief, rushed to embrace him.
The days following held all of Ayuko’s normal rituals. As she opened her eyes at the same time, in the same place, in her same schedule, she felt that the memory of the day was water, a rippled recollection of what actually took place. In all of the sameness, something felt different. And yet, she set about her day, only having to complete the seeming unachievable task of finely dicing green onions and taking mumbled orders. She thought of Kurt and his family. The proverbial triumph of him surviving to his 28th birthday.
“Ayuko!” The rehearsed tone of the red-faced man rang out. She walked over quietly, preoccupied and resigned. “Someone at the register...asking for you.”
She craned her neck, and there stood a very out-of-place, perfect-postured Cathy.
“A coffee to go, please.” She was direct about her order, but her eyes held many other unspoken thoughts. “It was...a long night...a long year,” she laughed softly to herself. “Anyway, they say coffee can cure almost any problem, right? I just wanted to say...thank you,” she looked around, “for the coffee.”
Ayuko had much she wanted to say too, but given the setting, she gave Cathy her coffee and bill with a weighted, “Yes...of course.”
Called angrily back to the kitchen, she exchanged another silent pause with Cathy, took her receipt and turned back to her routine.
As she approached the kitchen, she glanced at her receipt.
A coffee for $2.09; a tip for $20,000.
A note at the top: “Big Money, No Whammies.”
About the Creator
Spencer Woods
Hello! I like how language can be used in infinite ways to organize thought and feeling. Happy exploring)
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