Read Legend of the Salad Traveler Page 4


  Chapter 4 – A Sudden Detour

  The magician was awed by the appearance of the salad, his apprentice now having an overly inflated sense of self-confidence.

  “Can you do that again?” The magician asked, beginning to wonder if his apprentice was a god. If he was, this would change his whole view of the magician-apprentice situation.

  “Let me try,” the apprentice responded. Closing his eyes and getting ready to focus, almost immediately the same atmospheric circumstances that occurred earlier over the table resulted in a salad popping out of nowhere.

  The salad thought, Really. Again?

  Now this wasn’t Carl’s friend’s salad, but remember the salad back at the bar? It was the same one that couldn’t prove Carl’s friend’s salad had something to do with it being originally displaced, but now it decided to lodge a formal complaint.

  —— ♦ ——

  Walking out of the bar, Carl’s friend’s guide appeared he could have been drunk by his swaggering, swaying and slurring of words. Carl’s friend was surprised to see him still capable of walking.

  “Dude, are you drunk?”

  “No. Are you?” the guide asked with a chuckle.

  “I think you’re drunk.”

  You see, the Parson’s punch contained no alcohol but had the ability to make one either extremely sleepy or extremely giggly. Some thought the drinks were blended from exotic flowers from a far off world, the milk of unique alien pets, or some other mysterious ingredient. The reality: bartenders collaborated and made a simple drink equating to colored sugar-water. No one actually cared what it contained, only that it looked pretty. Of course, that meant the water may not have been the cleanest.

  “Those drinks don’t get me drunk, just sleepy. I really need to take a nap,” the guide noted chuckling again.

  “A nap? Now? What about my salad?”

  “You’re salad’s fine. If it can make the front page of the traveler’s news, I think it’ll be okay.” Carl’s friend’s guide whistled while raising his hand, pointing up his index finger with agile dexterity. “Taxi!”

  Carl’s friend thought it interesting that even across various universes on different worlds, certain rituals remained the same. What he didn’t realize was that this was one of the cultural practices exported from the earth by passing tourists and visitors enamored with the ease and simplicity of hailing and employment of temporary transportation. On some worlds this could have been quite fatal, so you can imagine the sense of relief when persons found an easier way to flag down a taxi.

  “So, where are we headed?” Carl’s friend asked while entering the sleek but muddied and dinged, streamlined vehicle.

  “I told you, going to take a nap. Those drinks are knocking me on the floor.”

  Carl’s friend remembered his chaperone dropped five of the spiked punches down his gullet, while he himself could only tolerate the one.

  “Where to, bud?” the driver of the cab asked.

  “To the nearest inn my friend, to the nearest inn,” Carl’s friend’s guide responded.

  “Uh, bud, you know the nearest inn is just down the block. It’ll be cheaper to walk.”

  “I don’t care, I’m in no mood to walk,” Carl’s friend’s guide said, his slurring more pronounced this time.

  “You know how much it’s gonna cost you for me to start the meter?”

  “I don’t care my friend, I don’t care.”

  “Fine, as long as you don’t mind helping feed my 420 offspring.”

  The remark took Carl’s friend by surprise. He now took a serious look at the driver in the front, observing what he considered an insect-like creature.

  Carl’s friend’s guide apparently considered the driver a temporary annoyance who was delaying him from taking a nap.

  “You have 420 offspring?” Carl’s friend asked excitedly.

  “Hey, just because me and the Mrs. decided to have a small family,” the driver snapped back misinterpreting Carl’s friend’s excitement, “I mean we decided not to be like other families on our planet, the wife sitting around all day doing nothing but laying eggs for the rest of her life, watching many of our hatchlings eat their siblings. It does get to be a bit tedious. So we decided to at least get away for a while before one of the young ones decided to eat us.”

  “Okay, that’s about gross,” Carl’s friend said.

  “We’re here.”

  Carl’s friend was totally oblivious that they had travelled down the street and parked in front of what appeared to be the entrance of an edifice that looked like a five-star hotel. He was also dazed when the driver announced the amount to be paid in a currency of which he had no comprehension.

  “Just pay the man,” Carl’s friend’s guide said waking from his semi-conscious catnap.

  “What do you mean pay the man? I don’t have any money,” Carl’s friend answered, remembering he didn’t have his wallet, the drinks in the bar being paid for on his guide’s tab.

  By the odd clicking sounds it was making, he could tell the driver was getting upset.

  Carl’s friend’s guide sighed heavily then reached towards the back of Carl’s friend’s head pulling out several strands of hair.

  “Ouch! What the hell?”

  Ignoring his groans, the guide handed the threads of hair to the driver. “Here, this should cover the fare.”

  “What is it?” the driver questioned grabbing the hair.

  “Hair from my friend here, he’s from the blue earth.”

  “Blue earth? Really?” The driver examined the hairs closely, appearing to smile, if you can consider the structure of his exo-skeletal mandibles and how they operated. “You’re not trying to trick me, are you? He’s really from one of the green earths, is he?”

  “Trust me my friend; he’s from the blue dirt ball. We just transported in earlier today.”

  The driver continued scanning the hairs, took a sniff, and continued, well, smiling. “This will more than cover your fare. Thanks gents, I can actually retire, and the wife and I can get eaten with dignity.”

  “Thank god! Now we can check in and get some sleep,” Carl’s friend’s guide said nonchalantly, getting out of the cab then focusing on Carl’s friend once they were standing on the walkway. “By the way, we’ll need more of your hair to get a room.”

  —— ♦ ——

  Carl’s friend’s guide immediately fell asleep as soon as he plopped down on top of the bed, not even attempting to disrobe or pull back the comforter and sheets. Trying to sleep himself, Carl’s friend realized his mind was too agitated for him to garner any rest, mainly from being annoyed about having two small clusters of hair pulled from his head, the pain only recently subsiding. Tossing and turning for what seemed like an hour, Carl’s friend pulled out his phone to look at the time. Where it should have been displayed, there was only a symphony of unique characters he’d never seen before. He remembered his guide mentioning earlier that standard earth time wasn’t transmitted to earth cell phones, blue earth time to be more specific.

  Washing his face and combing his hair, he freshened himself up then went down to the hotel lobby finding this the perfect time to go exploring on a strange, exotic planet. Of course, he didn’t know if he was still in his same universe or some other universe, but he didn’t care. Going into the room with a semblance of a restaurant to grab a drink of water, he saw the hostess apologizing for having him wait so long, which was actually just a couple of minutes. With his generous payment, the hotel staff were instructed to treat him and his guide as if they were royalty, nothing held back. Gulping down his refreshment, he thanked the waiter and decided to pull a couple of strands of hair presenting them to his server. The waiter’s eyes widened not sure how to react to the gesture.

  “Are you sure, sir?” the server asked humbly.

  “Sure. Go for it.”

  The waiter turned around promptly running towards the kitchen, yelling, “I qui
t, I quit! Woo hoooo, I can quit!”

  What the waiter didn’t realize was a stereotypical series of unfortunate events were about to occur. He was so excited about his unanticipated windfall he began jumping up and down, hooting and hollering while attempting to leave the hotel through the employee entrance. His co-workers cheered in the rear kitchen hearing of the wonderful event. The waiter didn’t account for the gust of wind flowing through the rear door inadvertently being left open because of the celebration, while the deliveries were being made. The unexpected breeze lifting the loosely-gripped strands from his hand, the waiter watched them quickly waft over into the intake of the trash incinerator, his fortune charred with the day’s refuse.

  The city seemed like any other city, nothing unique or out of the ordinary, minus the unique population of unfamiliar beings, some such types having been witnessed when they were in the bar. Off in the distance, Carl’s friend thought he could discern the same silver-toned individual who gave him a tongue lashing for having the same name. He decided to cross the street. Just after travelling a couple of long extended blocks, he quickly came to a large park and a marketplace with exotic plants, animals in little cages, modular-like booths containing trinkets, electronic gadgets, and what appeared to be food vendors. At the end of one of the aisles, distinct from all the other vendor setups, a humanoid woman sat at a simple table staring intently at Carl’s friend. He couldn’t resist heading over to talk to her.

  “So what do you do?” he asked.

  “Not quite sure, actually. I come out here each day, set up this table and chair and wait for people to ask me, ‘So what do you do?’ Then I look at them.” She smiled.

  Should he be upset? Was she being witty? He didn’t really know, losing the sense of understanding subtle nuances and body language of persons being overloaded. He experienced a parade of various creatures and beings, each one not only with different shapes, body coverings, and hues, but also unique movements and what would be apparent nervous ticks.

  “Okay, wha’do you mean by that?” he asked. “Are you being a smartass?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand your context for smartass. How can an ass be smart?”

  “What I mean is, are you just joking with me?”

  “It’s not in me to joke, only to joke with you.”

  Carl’s friend being perturbed by her response was interrupted by a female, one of many species coming up to the table, reaching out holding a silver coin. The lady sat behind the table grabbing it and quickly fortressing it in a small purse tied around her waist. “Ask your question.”

  “Should I have breakfast or a brunch today?” she asked.

  The lady behind the table smiled. “Your mate will be aware of all doors.”

  To Carl’s friend, the answer made no sense.

  The lady, wanting to know the answer to the question, giggled with glee, taking off running through the crowd. The shop vendor next to the table noticed the puzzled look on Carl’s friend’s face and chuckled heartily garnering his attention.

  “You don’t understand who she is, do you my friend?” the vendor asked.

  “Sorry, haven’t the foggiest idea.”

  “She’s a teller of unthings.”

  “Excuse me, unthings?”

  “Things that are naught, she’ll reveal.”

  Great, an alien gypsy fortuneteller, Carl’s friend thought.

  “Go ahead, ask her a question,” the vendor continued.

  “Don’t have any money.” He didn’t want to pull out any of his hair and try to explain its origin.

  “On me,” the vendor said, tossing a coin to Carl’s friend who responded thanking his benefactor.

  Using the same ritual he just viewed, he passed the teller his coin. “Am I gonna find my salad?”

  “Being lost may sometimes mean being on the path you were meant to follow.”

  A look of confusion grew on Carl’s friend’s face, the vendor laughing hysterically, returning to attending to his customers. Like any fortune teller, regardless of the dimension or universe, prone to provide a generalized reading, vague and cryptic, she appeared to be relevant to the individual. But once taking a second look at what was said, they either forgot what was said or realized they were duped. But every so often, the teller was correct, and this was the case with Carl’s friend reading.

  The remainder of his walk-about was very uneventful, minus almost forgetting his way back.

  —— ♦ ——

  Walking back into the hotel, Carl’s friend found his guide sitting at the bar downing a red and yellow layered drink in a massive crystalline stein. Carl’s friend was a bit surprised to see the waiter still working there, especially after his earlier tirade of ranting that he was going to quit.

  “There you are,” Carl’s friend’s guide said. “I was beginning to get worried about you. Thought maybe you decided to head home.”

  “Head home? I barely know how to get around here. Almost got lost trying to find my way back.”

  “What are you worried about? Here you’re a wealthy man. You got plenty of hair.”

  “Yeah, about that, why’s my hair worth so much?”

  “Because of the rarity of your kind. As a matter of fact, you may be the first, blue earth human that is, to come out this way.”

  “First human? How come I see a bunch of human-looking people around?”

  “You’re right, there are humanoids from various places and from the other earths, but you bunch from blue earth, you humans are an entertaining lot to us.”

  “What’s so special about my planet?”

  “Hard to say really,” the guide said. “Quite a few just like to go and people watch, observe and have a good time there, maybe have a quick picnic. But then sometimes we end up there by accident. No matter what, there’s strict rules for anyone not to take any,” he raised air quotes with his fingers, “souvenirs from the planet.” His hands returned to his drink. “And technically, we’re not supposed to take anyone off your world.”

  “So how come there’s no problem with me leaving?”

  “Your salad changed that for you, didn’t it? I think the bureau really had no choice but to let you try and find it. That is, if all the paperwork was put through properly.”

  “I have a question,” Carl’s friend said. “If my hair is worth so much, how come nobody’s trying to steal it?”

  “It has to be freely given,” the guide said. “Stealing it would ensure that not only that person, but their entire race, species or worse, best friend could be prevented from travelling across the universes. Ministry gets real upset. Puts a bummer on one’s day.”

  “But you were able to pull my hair both times. I didn’t give it to you.”

  “I’m your guide, now aren’t I? As long as I advance the trip and it’s not for personal gain, per say.”

  “Per say?”

  Carl’s friend’s guide imbibed one large swig leaving over half the drink remaining in the stein. “Let’s go find that salad of yours.”

  Checking out of the hotel, the doorman hailing down a taxi for the two men as they exited, Carl’s friend noticed the sun was still high off in the horizon and for most of his entire duration on the planet. “Man it’s been bright here for a long time.”

  “That’s the way it is,” his guide responded while entering the cab. “You’d be surprised how different things are around here. Come on, we gotta get to the ministry.”

  While heading towards the terminus and held up in traffic, Carl’s friend happened to look up at a billboard with an animated image of various creatures playing a game similar to baseball. The only difference was, as a player advanced, instead of attempting to tag the player out, opposing team members would tackle those who weren’t fast enough to escape.

  “Are they playing some kinda baseball?” He asked, wondering if the game was baseball. The more he watched, the stranger it seemed.

  Carl’s fr
iend’s guide leaned over to Carl’s friend’s side of the rear seat resting in his lap to peer out the window and get a better look at the video billboard. “Yeah, I think so. You know, I wouldn’t mind going to watch a game.”

  “You mean after we find my salad, right?”

  “I say let’s head out and watch one. We can always head to the ministry afterwards.”

  “Look, I just want to get this over with.”

  “Aw come on. It’ll be fun.”