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The Tandoori Grill

“Hey, Vik. I brought you a new victim.” Marta said as the restaurateur approached.

He smiled warmly. “Be nice, Ms. Kwock. Good evening, sirji. I am Vikram Patel. Welcome to the Tandoori Grill.”

Ryan nodded and smiled. “Hey, Ryan Doyle. Nice place.”

“He’s kind of a firangi, Vik. Let’s start him off easy.” She shot a coy glance at Ryan.

“She’s a kidder.” Vik smiled as he led them to a table. “Everything is prepared to order. We can adjust the heat for you. No problem.”

“Thanks.” He held Marta’s chair. “It’s my first time trying Indian.”

She blushed and took her seat. He pushed her in and sat across from her.

“Sneha will be with you momentarily.”

Marta smiled at Ryan. “Vik, can you set us up with some naan and a pitcher of milk?”

“Certainly.” Vik bobbled his head. “Here are some menus and I’ll bring your bread.”

“Milk and bread?” Ryan opened his menu.

“Just a precaution. I don’t know what your threshold of tolerance is, but an Indian’s idea of mild still has a fair amount of zing in it.” She looked at the sheet of specials.

“What do you recommend?”

“It’s all good here. You can play it safe and start with chicken tikka masala or maybe biryani. You might like that.”

“You’re the boss.” He looked around at the decor.

“Ooh, I like the way you think.”

He smirked. “Didn’t you have glasses?”

“I’ve got my contacts in. My prescription isn’t as strong as Trilby’s.”

He nodded and returned to the menu.

“How’s your eyesight?”

“About average, I guess.”

“Great.” She looked around. “What kind of stuff do you like?”

He gave her a confused look.

“You know, like sports or politics or gardening…”

“Oh, I’m not real big on the TV. I like work.”

“Yeah, they really keep you hopping. Huh?”

“It’s interesting. Last week, we put the decorations all over town. This week, we’re building a Christmas village.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“It is.” He smiled. “It’s geared toward the kids, but I bet you’d like it once it’s done.”

His smile gave her a chill. “All work and no play, though.”

“If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life.” He shrugged. “Or so they say.”

“Whoever they are.” She looked up when the waitress arrived with their stack of naan.

“Chaos poisoning?”

“I’m sorry if that sounds dire.” Dr. Defay studied her. “It seemed the best description of the situation at the time and it just stuck.”

“Is there any kind of…”

“Not that we’ve discovered. Even the Wisler Institute has only managed to dampen the powers of people with more extreme conditions.”

“You make it sound like a…”

“It’s a condition.” He said. “Some people have more severe symptoms than others. Poor Stanley actually fell into a chaos rift. His was one of the most radical transformations.”

“Stanley?”

“Lieutenant Dargis was our police liaison officer when the Sentinels started up. After his exposure to the chaos realm, well, have you ever heard of The Creature?”

Carol shook her head. She felt a twisting sensation in her chest.

“In any case, I wouldn’t expect a single kiss to—”

She hiccuped and a glowing holographic snow globe floated out of her mouth. It twirled in the air. A cheerful little snowman tipped his hat before the globe popped. A plume of holographic snowflakes tumbled into nothingness.

“Oh, snap.” Paul said.

Carol clapped her hands over her mouth and hiccuped again. Two streams of little holographic snow globes erupted from her nostrils like bubbles from a wand. Each tiny globe had its own little scene. Here a snow-covered cottage. There an array of candy canes bouncing around the inside of the sphere. Each popped into a small plume of holographic snowflakes in turn.

“That’s actually kind of neat.” Jeb said. Aundrea smacked his arm.

Carol pouted. “Is that going to keep happening?” She hiccuped and a holographic polar bear in a Santa hat danced out of her mouth.

“I think you should come with me to the Wisler Institute. I believe we’ve caught it early enough that they might be able to help you suppress that.” The doctor said. “You’ll need to pack for a stay of a few days and excuse yourself from whatever work or social engagements you have this week.”

“But Sarah quit. There won’t be anyone to run the Jingle Bell Jubilee.”

“I have your notes.” Paul said. “I can keep an eye on things while you’re away. It’s a slow week. Right?”

“Earl and the guys are building the Christmas village this week. I was going to—”

“You still can.” Paul said. “Take your laptop. I can be your eyes and ears here. It will be like you’re not even gone.”

“Phillipe, shouldn’t Paul be resting?” Jeb asked.

“He should, but if all he’s doing is stopping by the park to liase for Carol and the construction team…”

“It will be good for me to stay visible and, well, smell the flowers.”

“Not much in the way of flowers this time of year.” Jeb turned to Aundrea.

“So, how was that?” Marta handed him a piece of naan.

He took it and ripped a piece off. “You weren’t kidding about that zing.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I appreciate that.” His face darkened. He clenched his jaw and looked down at the piece of bread in his hands.

“What’s the matter?” Marta looked back over her shoulder. “Isn’t that the girl who works with Carol?”

“Sarah.” He ripped the naan brutally and jammed a piece in his mouth. “What’s she doing here? She’s always following me.”

Marta reached out to touch his arm, but he jerked it away.

“Why does she have to follow me around?”

Marta sat back. “I think it’s just a coincidence. The food here is good. Lots of people like it.”

He clenched the torn halves of the naan in his fists. “Yeah, maybe so.”

“We can ask for a take-out box.”

“Better do.” He released the clumps of mashed bread and wiped his hands on his napkin. “That’s a good idea. We should go.”

“Okay.” She looked for the waitress. “We can do that. Sneha?”

The young lady smiled and came to her side. “Everything okay?”

“It’s great, but we need to get going. Can you box this up for us and bring the check?”

Ryan was resting his head on his clenched fists.

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” She bobbled as she headed to the kitchen.

Marta laid her folded napkin onto the table.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ryan. I’ve got this. Alright?”

“I’ve got some—”

“You can pick up dessert.”

He opened his eyes to find her hand. It was a soft, delicate thing beckoning to him.

“Sure.” He rested his hand in hers. ‘Is this real?’

Marta squeezed his hand. “We’ll take a spin through Wentzel’s. Okay?”

“Anywhere you want.” He looked up to find Sarah walking past.

“Ryan, what’s the matter?”

He jumped up from the table. “What are you doing? Why are you always following me?”

Sarah screeched and hid behind Vikram. “I’m not doing anything.” Sarah pushed her wire-rim glasses up her freckled nose.

“Please, stop following me! Leave me alone. Will you?”

“I’m not doing anything to you.” She cried.

Vikram held his arms out to protect her. “Mr. Doyle, you should go now. Marta?”

“We’re leaving, Vik. Don’t worry.” She winced. “Sorry, Sarah, we’re going.”

Vik lead her away as Marta guided Ryan to the cashier.

“I’m sorry.” Ryan hung his head.

She fished a card from her purse. “We’ll talk about it in a minute.”