The Gravitational Leap. Darrell Lee

block ahead. A barrel-chested man, who made the cart squeak and sink to whichever side he stood, got out and took one of the crates into a café. By the time Timo and Alyd got there, the man was coming back out.

      “Good morning, Jacob,” Timo said, smiling broadly.

      “Timo! I haven’t seen you since graduation.” He shook Timo’s hand and looked at Alyd. “I heard you got married. They told me she was beautiful, those liars. My horse is beautiful—she’s gorgeous! I don’t have to ask how married life is treating you. I can see it’s very well.”

      “Jacob, this is my wife, Alyd. Alyd, this is an old friend from school, Jacob.”

      Jacob extended his meaty hand, which swallowed Alyd’s. “It’s a pleasure.”

      “Thank you.”

      “And you, Jacob—have you found a wife?” Timo asked.

      “Not yet. I am conducting oral interviews as often as I can, though.” Jacob gave a sly wink, and they all laughed. “Well, I must be going. I have five more deliveries to make this morning.”

      “What are you delivering?” Alyd asked.

      “Eggs. Fresh eggs just laid yesterday. Since all the farming families are inside the wall now, we have an explosion of eggs. I buy them from the farmers and sell them to the café owners.”

      Timo’s and Alyd’s eyes widened. “They have fresh eggs at this café?” Timo asked.

      “Yes, they do.” Jacob climbed in the driver’s seat, the cart groaning under his shifting weight. “For as long as they last. Good-bye, Timo. It’s nice to see you again, and very nice to meet you, Alyd.” With a jerk of the reins the horse began trotting, and Jacob was gone with a backward wave.

      “Let’s have eggs for lunch,” Timo said, taking Alyd by the hand and pulling her to the front door of the café.

      “We can’t afford eggs.” She resisted being pulled.

      “I have been saving credits. I have ten saved up just for something special.”

      “You have saved ten credits behind my back?” Alyd raised her eyebrows.

      Damn it, don’t get mad again.

      “Only so I could spend them on a date with you. Today is the perfect day for it. We have the whole day off, and the café has eggs.” Timo continued to tug on her hand.

      “All right…but I am still mad at you.”

      A dim warmth greeted them inside the café. Not quite all the smoke from the oven in the kitchen had found its way up the smokestack. The only window, kept shuttered to keep the cold out, provided no light. The only light came from candles sitting on the five tables in the room.

      None of the tables were occupied. They pulled the hoods back on their parkas. Timo selected a table by the wall. The owner, a round, middle-aged woman with dark frizzed hair, a large red nose, and tiny slits for eyes, came from the kitchen to the table with two earthen cups of water. “What can I cook for you soldiers?”

      “Two fried eggs for each of us,” Timo answered.

      “I guess word gets around fast.” The woman wiped her hands on the tan apron, heavily stained to testify to the decades at her profession. The apron barely covered her oversized breasts and belly.

      “Do you have bread?” Timo asked.

      “Yes, sir, we do. Just baked this morning.”

      “We would like a loaf.”

      “Anything else?” the smiling owner asked.

      “Do you have butter?” Timo could visualize the breakfast he was building.

      “I do.”

      “And butter for our bread,” Timo added.

      “How much is it going to cost?” Alyd asked.

      “Twelve credits.”

      The smile faded a bit from Timo’s face. “How about without the butter?”

      “How many credits do you have to spend?” the café owner asked.

      “Ten,” Timo answered.

      “Then, for two fine soldiers as yourselves, I’ll only charge nine.”

      The smile returned to Timo’s face. He removed the credit booklet from his pocket and gave nine copper-colored papers to the owner. She left to prepare their eggs.

      “We should go to the market when we leave here and get my mother some salt and chicken,” Alyd said. “She asked the day before yesterday, and we may not have a chance again for a few days.”

      “Of course,” the still-smiling Timo said. “The snow looks like it’s settling in for a while. Now may be the best time.” The light from the candle resting on the aged, smooth table danced in Alyd’s big brown eyes.

      “You can stop it,” she said.

      “What?”

      “Being so agreeable.”

      Timo heard the eggs being cracked, and then sizzling on the hot skillet in the kitchen. “What’s wrong with making you happy?”

      Alyd tried unsuccessfully not to smile. “You know I can’t stay mad at you, especially when you act all charming. So just stop it because I do want to stay mad a little longer.”

      “You don’t want to stay mad at me.”

      “Yes, I do.”

      The owner came from the kitchen and placed wooden utensils on the table in front of them and hurried back to the kitchen.

      “Not when you remember how much I love you,” Timo said.

      “Stop.”

      “And how much you love me.”

      “Yes, I do love you, and that’s why I don’t want to see you in jail.”

      “I’m not going to jail. Even if they found the knife, they couldn’t prove it came from that scout.”

      “They’d sure know it didn’t come from our clan.”

      “Alyd, I love you. Stop worrying. I would never do anything that would hurt you. It’s just a knife, and a very nice one.” Timo leaned forward and grabbed her hand resting on the table and pressed her fingers to his cheek. “See how smooth it shaves?” He stroked her fingers across his chin. “Smoother than any shave I’ve ever had. So smooth that I could kiss you, without any roughness, anywhere you wanted.”

      “Stop it.”

      “Your mouth is saying stop, but your eyes are saying don’t stop.”

      “Listen to my mouth, not my eyes.”

      Timo lowered her hand to the table, but kept holding it. She didn’t pull away. Alyd stroked his hand with her thumb and tried to let the issue about the knife go while they silently waited for their food.

      The café owner came out of the kitchen with two plates of fried eggs, slices of bread, and thick slabs of butter. Timo leaned back as she put them on the table. The smell of the eggs filled their nostrils.

      “Let me know if there is anything else you need,” she said, heading back to the kitchen.

      Timo and Alyd looked around the café. All the tables were still empty, and the cook was busy in the kitchen. They bowed their heads and quickly held hands over the food.

      “Bless this food in the nourishment of our bodies. Guide and direct us in everything we do. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen,” Timo whispered.

      They cut into the yolks and let the yellow liquid run and mix with the white. They rolled each bite in the liquid. Each mouthful was savored and devoured. They spread the slabs of