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Wilbur polishes the same ornate plate for what must be the thousandth time, till it sparkles and shines under the dim light of the café. Outside, streetlights and people are blurs in the splash of rain the window. People eager to get home and spend the weekend with their families, perhaps, or to head to a pub to unwind.
Who would want to spend their time in this dingy establishment anyway?
That said…
Each tick of the second hand brings him closer and closer to closing time. When Wilbur first opened the shop, he would have started packing up by now and spent the rest of the night stressed over his inability to pay his bills and rent. Two weeks ago, however, he has since adopted a different routine.
When the clock strikes eight, the door swings open with a sharp jingle of the bell.
The woman is back.
She stands at the door, trying to stuff her umbrella into its casing, water dripping on the welcome mat.
“Need a hand?” Wilbur asks.
The woman—her name is Niki, he learned—lifts her head, eyes practically pleading for help. With their combined effort, they manage to cram her umbrella into that tiny cloth bag.
Wilbur then shows her to her usual seat—a booth nearest the kitchen, the farthest from the entrance. She wears a mask again today, as she always does. It is pink this time, matching the colour of her hair, with a little Hello Kitty stitched in the corner.
“Here’s the menu.”
Niki nods. “Thank you.”
Wilbur saunters back to the counter, humming a little tune to himself. Niki usually takes a while to decide. He can get some more cleaning done in the meantime (as if he hasn’t already done enough).
He finds his thoughts wandering to her every once in a while. Niki is a curious woman. She comes in every evening and always sits with her back to the door. And to Wilbur. She only ever removes her mask when eating. Most importantly…
She orders enough for three people, and yet somehow finishes everything and have space for more. That is the most singular aspect of Niki that he cannot quite comprehend.
Then again, it is not Wilbur’s place to ask. He is merely a chef and Niki, his customer. She soon calls him over. He scribbles the names of the dishes down on his notepad, before making for the kitchen and whipping up the requested foods.
He serves her piping hot pasta, sandwiches stuffed full of crunchy lettuce and tomatoes, a bread bowl of soup…
Niki thanks him. She may be wearing a mask, but her smile reaches her eyes. He returns it.
“You’re welcome.”
“Oh, um…”
Wilbur peers down at her, at the Tupperware container she retrieves from her bag.
“Do you…may I order something to take away?”
Wilbur nods. “Yeah, of course.”
Niki relays her order, her smile once more hidden by the mask. Wilbur gets right to it, preparing her an acai bowl. The sweet fragrance of the smoothie and assortment of fruits wafts around him.
When he is done, he emerges from the kitchen, Tupperware in hand. Niki is engrossed in her food, wolfing down the last of her sandwich. Wilbur spies her mask laid on the table, and curiosity overwhelms him. He has never seen an unmasked Niki, and this may be his one chance…
Yeah, no, what’s there to contemplate? What’s the worst that could possibly happen? Wilbur’s going for it.
“Excuse me.”
He touches her shoulder, and Niki jolts, head snapping over. In shock, Wilbur drops the Tupperware, which lands on the table with a resounding thump. Niki’s eyes are wide, her jaw parted in surprise.
Her…jaw.
The lower half of her face hangs by mere threads of flesh.
Without another word, Niki grabs her mask and throws herself from the seat. The bell jingles overhead and the door swings wide. Wilbur is rooted to the spot, having gone stiff.
What did he just see?
Wilbur glances over to the remaining dish, virtually untouched. Her acai bowl lies forgotten, fruits and smoothie splashed to one side. Wilbur sighs.
Well.
That’s…that.
He may have just lost his only customer.
But still…Niki’s mouth…Wilbur touches his cheeks self-consciously. Her mouth stretched from ear to ear, skin parted before his very eyes. That was most certainly not normal.
Wilbur looks out the window. The rain has ceased, so she wouldn’t be drenched. He leans against the counter, thumbing through search results on Google. He’s heard the rumours, about people who are not quite human lurking in their midst. People who turn into wolves under the light of the moon, people who rely on others’ blood for sustenance.
But to him, those stories were mere poppycock.
And yet…
Wilbur looks over at Niki’s unfinished food. She left in such a hurry that she’s overturned the plate, scattering crumbs on the tabletop. Wilbur sighs, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He should start cleaning up. Not like she would—
At the ring of the bell, Wilbur turns to the door, raising a brow in surprise. Niki stands at the entrance to the café. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, fingers tight around the strap of her satchel. Her mask is back on her face, it seems.
“Welcome…uh…” Wilbur swallows the lump in his throat. “Welcome back.”
Why is she back? Hope flares in his heart. She’s not going to give up being his patron, is she? He didn’t scare her away, right?
“H-Here.” Niki holds out several notes. Wilbur stares at it. Niki’s head is bowed, as if afraid to meet his gaze.
“You…You didn’t finish your meal.”
Wow, that sounded incredibly awkward, even to his own ears.
Niki peers up at him curiously. Wilbur coughs into his hand.
“I’m not going to accept payment for something you didn’t eat.”
“But…”
“I don’t one to judge. I can’t care less about your, uh…”
“Oh.” The relief that washes over Niki’s face is overwhelming. “Then…is it alright if I…”
“Yeah.” Wilbur gestures at the pasta. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold by now. “I haven’t cleared it yet.”
Niki hesitates, but does slide back into the booth. Wilbur pats the Tupperware container.
“We can settle payment when you’re done,” he says. “Enjoy your meal.”
Niki fidgets anxiously with her mask. “Are you not going to ask?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Well, I thought you might. I think a normal person would.”
“I think a normal person would have run by now. Reported you to the police or something,” Wilbur says.
Niki laughs, like the tinkle of a bell. “The police wouldn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, no one’s going to believe this hell of a story anyway.”
“I’m actually employed by the government. We’re paid to, uh, scare people.”
Wilbur narrows his eyes. “Scare people?”
“Like, naughty children who don’t want to go home, or troublemakers on the streets.” Niki claps. “There are only a couple of us, so we’re quite busy…”
“Wait. Hold on. So there are more of you?”
Niki blinks. “Yes, but not many.”
“And you’re employed by the government to…”
“Scare people.”
Such jobs…truly exist in the world?
Wilbur clears his throat. “Are you here to scare me? I’ll have you know I’m paying all my taxes and rent. I’m not doing drugs or anything.”
“Oh, no!” Niki shakes her head. “I’m here to eat. I just get very hungry very easily because…I’m supposed to feed off human souls, and normal food doesn’t really satisfy me that well.”
“You really said all that with a smile on your face.”
Niki giggles. “I mean, I am just here to eat. You serve good food, the atmosphere’s really nice, and this café’s always empty, so…”
That last one really did a number on Wilbur’s ego.
“It’s perfect,” Niki says. “I don’t have to worry about being seen by anyone. Apart from you, that is.”
“Then you will have nothing to fear,” Wilbur says with a flourish. “Now that I know about this, there’s no one else to be afraid of revealing your secret to now.”
“Then can I…will you be uncomfortable…?”
Wilbur eyes her with amusement. “I don’t see how you can eat if you keep your mask on.”
Gingerly, Niki removes her mask, laying it on the table. It is only now that Wilbur gets a good look at her jaw, at what appears to be stitches, but are really strips of flesh tearing and coming together as Niki takes bite after bite.
“Um…you’re staring.”
Wilbur clears his throat, averting his gaze. “Sorry.”
He should really get to polishing that same plate for the umpteenth time. No one likes to be stared at when they eat, after all. Especially not someone with features so…different from humans.
When Niki is done, she pays at the counter, the mask slipped back onto her face and hiding her mouth from view.
“Come back soon, okay? I have bills to pay.”
Niki chuckles. “I see. You’re using me for my money.”
Wilbur nods shamelessly. “Being a government worker, I bet you’re paid a lot. Please order more next time.”
“Am I really your only customer?”
Wilbur sighs, much to Niki’s mirth. How sadistic of her.
“I’ll make sure to close the café at night,” Wilbur says, “so you can eat without any worries.”
Niki nods. “I’ll hold you to that.”
With that, she takes her leave. Wilbur watches as she goes, disappearing out the front door and striding off down the pavement. He is already looking forward to her next visit.
After all, she’s this shop’s only patron, and his café is her refuge.
You could say they are…complementary.