of his leather jacket, until
he finally produced a battered paperback book. Cassie saw the
words Willapa Bay on the cover as he handed it to her.
“ That’s a definitive history
of Oysterville and Willapa Bay,” he said, “and I’m not just saying
that because I helped with it either! Now you can get started on
your research; and you will be quizzed.”
“ Oh boy!” Cassie said with a
groan, flipping through the pages of the narrow booklet as their
dinner was served.
Jack's oysters, wrapped in strips of bacon
and impaled on two long bamboo skewers, lay resting on a bed of
fresh, green spinach. Each skewer held five or six of the fat
bi-valves, pan fried to a golden-brown, interspersed with sautéed
mushrooms, and chunks of toasted French bread dripping with garlic
butter. The steam that rose from his plate was tangy with brine. As
Jack removed the first oyster from the skewer with his fork, he
offered it to Cassie without flair.
"I believe," he said, straight-faced, "that
you were seeking to expand your horizons?” Cassie took the fork,
trying to look anywhere except at the bacon-wrapped lump that she
was about to eat.
Bad medicine is best
taken quickly , Kathy Belanger had oft
said and, with this thought in mind, Cassie popped the whole oyster
in her mouth and chewed quickly. To her surprise, the taste wasn't
bad, just unusual. In fact, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she
liked it. As Cassie kept chewing, she found that she really did
like it! The flavor was sharp, briny and pleasant, rich with butter
and garlic, and the consistency was not at all what she expected.
The oyster wasn't like anything she had ever tasted before, and she
looked somewhat dubiously at the halves of the cheeseburger resting
on her plate, a pile of French fries lying limply
beside.
Much to her chagrin, the look on Jack's face
showed plainly enough that he had seen her reaction. Wordlessly, he
picked up the first of the two skewers and set it on Cassie's
plate, taking half of her burger in trade.
"Thanks," Cassie said, a bit sheepishly.
"No worries," Jack replied, "I wouldn't have
expected anything less from you. I take it as a sign of excellent
breeding that you know good food when you taste it!"
Cassie studied him a moment, trying to
decide if he was putting her on.
Then she laughed and dug into her dinner,
following Jack's suggestion and eating the burger first, "Lest she
spoil the memory of the oysters.” The burger was great as well,
grilled thick and juicy, and served with slabs of beefsteak
tomatoes, sweet Vidalia onions, and crisp lettuce.
Finally, Jack leaned back and sighed and, as
he tossed his napkin onto his now empty plate, and drained the last
of his soda, his eyes twinkled merrily.
"O Oysters, said the Carpenter, You've had a
pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again? But answer came
there none. And this was scarcely odd, because they'd eaten every
one!"
"Lewis Carroll!” Cassie exclaimed, "Finally,
someone I recognize.” Jack laughed.
"Not true,” he said, “you knew Dickens.
Tomorrow, we try out oyster shooters before dinner!"
"Oyster shooters?” Cassie looked at him
quizzically.
"A raw oyster, in a shot glass with a
spoonful of cocktail sauce!” Jack rolled his eyes and licked his
lips euphorically.
" Raw ?” Cassie asked, swallowing
hard. Jack gave her a long look, and she raised her hands in
surrender.
“ Okay...okay, I'll try it!
But you had better take me someplace you don't intend to eat at
again, just in case I hurl!"
"Delightful," Jack grimaced, "The
colloquialisms of youth."
Chapter
Seven
Cassie insisted on paying for their dinner
that night, having removed the cash from her boots that morning.
She felt safer with Jack, even though she barely knew him. He still
seemed a little strange though.
A couple of times on the long drive from
Phoenix, she had noticed Jack watching her out of the corner of his
eye with an odd look on his face. It was a sad look, almost
haunted, and he
he finally produced a battered paperback book. Cassie saw the
words Willapa Bay on the cover as he handed it to her.
“ That’s a definitive history
of Oysterville and Willapa Bay,” he said, “and I’m not just saying
that because I helped with it either! Now you can get started on
your research; and you will be quizzed.”
“ Oh boy!” Cassie said with a
groan, flipping through the pages of the narrow booklet as their
dinner was served.
Jack's oysters, wrapped in strips of bacon
and impaled on two long bamboo skewers, lay resting on a bed of
fresh, green spinach. Each skewer held five or six of the fat
bi-valves, pan fried to a golden-brown, interspersed with sautéed
mushrooms, and chunks of toasted French bread dripping with garlic
butter. The steam that rose from his plate was tangy with brine. As
Jack removed the first oyster from the skewer with his fork, he
offered it to Cassie without flair.
"I believe," he said, straight-faced, "that
you were seeking to expand your horizons?” Cassie took the fork,
trying to look anywhere except at the bacon-wrapped lump that she
was about to eat.
Bad medicine is best
taken quickly , Kathy Belanger had oft
said and, with this thought in mind, Cassie popped the whole oyster
in her mouth and chewed quickly. To her surprise, the taste wasn't
bad, just unusual. In fact, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she
liked it. As Cassie kept chewing, she found that she really did
like it! The flavor was sharp, briny and pleasant, rich with butter
and garlic, and the consistency was not at all what she expected.
The oyster wasn't like anything she had ever tasted before, and she
looked somewhat dubiously at the halves of the cheeseburger resting
on her plate, a pile of French fries lying limply
beside.
Much to her chagrin, the look on Jack's face
showed plainly enough that he had seen her reaction. Wordlessly, he
picked up the first of the two skewers and set it on Cassie's
plate, taking half of her burger in trade.
"Thanks," Cassie said, a bit sheepishly.
"No worries," Jack replied, "I wouldn't have
expected anything less from you. I take it as a sign of excellent
breeding that you know good food when you taste it!"
Cassie studied him a moment, trying to
decide if he was putting her on.
Then she laughed and dug into her dinner,
following Jack's suggestion and eating the burger first, "Lest she
spoil the memory of the oysters.” The burger was great as well,
grilled thick and juicy, and served with slabs of beefsteak
tomatoes, sweet Vidalia onions, and crisp lettuce.
Finally, Jack leaned back and sighed and, as
he tossed his napkin onto his now empty plate, and drained the last
of his soda, his eyes twinkled merrily.
"O Oysters, said the Carpenter, You've had a
pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again? But answer came
there none. And this was scarcely odd, because they'd eaten every
one!"
"Lewis Carroll!” Cassie exclaimed, "Finally,
someone I recognize.” Jack laughed.
"Not true,” he said, “you knew Dickens.
Tomorrow, we try out oyster shooters before dinner!"
"Oyster shooters?” Cassie looked at him
quizzically.
"A raw oyster, in a shot glass with a
spoonful of cocktail sauce!” Jack rolled his eyes and licked his
lips euphorically.
" Raw ?” Cassie asked, swallowing
hard. Jack gave her a long look, and she raised her hands in
surrender.
“ Okay...okay, I'll try it!
But you had better take me someplace you don't intend to eat at
again, just in case I hurl!"
"Delightful," Jack grimaced, "The
colloquialisms of youth."
Chapter
Seven
Cassie insisted on paying for their dinner
that night, having removed the cash from her boots that morning.
She felt safer with Jack, even though she barely knew him. He still
seemed a little strange though.
A couple of times on the long drive from
Phoenix, she had noticed Jack watching her out of the corner of his
eye with an odd look on his face. It was a sad look, almost
haunted, and he
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