Fiction Friday - A Healthy Meal

“Just start from the beginning.” 

“I had a salad for dinner.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“That’s the beginning.” 

“Really? No story begins with ‘I had a salad.’” 

Morris sighed and rolled his eyes. “The irony is not lost on me. Do you want to know what happened or not?” 

The detective raised his hands in surrender and leaned back. “Alright, go. Just remember you’ll have to sign a statement that what you tell us is the truth.” He motioned at the camera in the corner. 

Morris looked at the 2-way mirror on the wall behind the detective and rolled his eyes again. An exaggerated gesture this time, hoping he was being watched. 

“It was her idea. My girlf-“ 

“Carla…” Detective Klug consulted his pocket notepad. “…Weiniger?” 

“Yeah, Carla. That new salad-themed restaurant was opening and she said we should go. I didn’t want to. Salads? How can you base a restaurant on salads?” At least the detective had the humanity to scoff in agreement. “Freakin’ salads. That woman is always trying to change me. ‘Eat more vegetables,’ or ‘Throw out those hole-y underwear,’ or ‘we need to…’ do something that sucks and eats my soul.” He blew out air toward the ceiling. “So we went,” he said to the tube lights above him. “Grand opening.” He looked back to Klug across from him. “They must be hooked up, ‘cause there was press.” The detective made a note at that statement. Morris slit his eyes to him. “You know that already. Or you would as soon as you looked on the internet. Don’t be a tool. Let me talk.” 

Detective Klug laid down his pen and notepad. He wanted Morris to keep talking. A better idea, he picked them up and returned them to his breast pocket. They were recording the conversation, after all. He didn’t really need to take notes. It was just habit. “You have my undivided attention.” 

Morris nodded and closed his eyes, blocking out the annoying detective and his stupid actions. “So we went. To the grand opening. Reservations and everything. Carla knew someone or something. Whatever. I looked at the menu.” He opened his eyes and leaned in toward the detective. “Not bad, honestly."

Klug didn’t know what to do with that. His eyes widened and he sat stock-still, deer-in-headlights, waiting for Morris’ wild-eyed gleam to dissipate. “Yeah?” He offered, to keep him talking. 

“Man, there was bacon, or ‘Canadian’ bacon on half of them. They even have one called ‘Meat Lovers’!” Morris was excited now. His eyes were spastic, like a cat watching a laser-dot, as he relived the memory. “Man, my mouth was watering! Whoever these people are, they know, man! They know TONS of guys are gonna be dragged there by the women in their lives.” He settled back and nodded as if to confirm his own claim. “Man, that Meat Lovers looked so good…” He stopped talking for so long, Klug was ready to interject, but his eyes were closed again and he was wearing a wistful smile. The detective glanced over his shoulder into the observation room and shrugged. Finally, Morris roused himself. 

“The waiter came, and that’s what I ordered. Meat Lovers. It was the best looking thing on this crazy, girly, menu.” A shadow crossed his face as he leaned over the table. Klug saw raw rage in his eyes. “She said NO! That… how could… I was only there because she made me! She told me no and then ordered for both of us.” The distaste and anger was clear on his face. “Some stupid ‘double green salad’ whatever that is. Sounds gross. I couldn’t believe it.” His eyes were closed again as his head shook with the memory. 

“When the idiot waiter just walked off with her order, she started in, but didn’t hear anything. My head was on fire, man. And when the plates came - she has this thing that we needed to eat at the same time. So I was loading my fork while she did, but I wasn’t happy about it. She knew it too. But she thought it was ‘bonding’ or something? She reached over and put her hand on mine.” 

Eyes opened, he brandished the back of his left hand, which had a band-aid covering a nick in the middle. “I stabbed her hand with my knife. She screamed and I reached across and stabbed her in the throat.” Putting his hands palm-down on the table, he looked squarely, calmly into Klug’s eyes. “She won’t be telling me what I can and can’t eat again.” 
 
It's FICTION FRIDAY!
Every Friday, a new flash fiction story, inspired by reader comments, when possible. Feel free to leave a prompt for future use in the comments below.