The Silent Dinner Gong of the Soul

Standing next to the hostess, Jimmy glanced over the seats in the main dining room. Three quarters full, and it was early yet. Waiters and waitresses buzzed around the crowded tables, between the smiling couples, the young families, the life long friends getting together for a night, the grandparents indulging their grandchildren. He peered at the reservation list and straightened his tie, then looked at the main hallway to make sure no one was waiting to be seated, then glanced back at the list and readjusted his tie again. Lauren, the hostess, grinned at his nervousness and picked an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder.

“Jimmy, why are you always so nervous on Fridays? Afraid no one is going to show up?”

“Well, you know how it is, more places to go in town these days, people bored of the same old thing and all . . . “ Jimmy’s voice was low but strong, and carried easily over the chink of silverware and waves of voices in the massive dining room.

“Right, right” Lauren answered. “I think Jimmy’s Place will disappear the same time as the pyramids.”

“Well you know with air pollution and the way the world’s climate is changing I’ve heard the pyramids are deteriorating faster than ever.” Jimmy looked back at the hallway again.

“Sure Jimmy.” She shook her head, and they both started to chuckle.

“Let me know if it gets to busy and you need anything, okay?”

“Will do.”

Jimmy wandered into the crowd.

“Hey Jimmy!” A silver haired couple, the Emersons, called from the table in the far corner.

“Hey, how ya doing?” Jimmy waved and threaded his way through the room and shook Dave’s hand and kissed the back of Kathy’s. She blushed, and Dave laughed. Pulling up a chair from one of the few empty tables, Jimmy sat down between the two. “So, how was your trip? Was it St. Thomas this time, or Jamaica?”

“Jamaica this year, and it was absolutely lovely. I can’t wait until we get the pictures back. But I think the first thing Dave said once we landed is that he couldn’t wait to have dinner here, isn’t that right Dave?”

He took a sip of beer before answering. “Absolutely. No matter what tropical paradise we find ourselves at, I always tell Kathy the food is never as good as it is here.”

“C’mon now, don’t pull my leg.” Jimmy said, shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s true.” Kathy answered. “I know what he’s going to say just as he opens his mouth.”

“Please, please, you’re just being nice. Why don’t you bring in some pictures next week, I’d love to see them.”

“We will, we will” said Kathy. “Have you ever thought about taking a trip somewhere, Jimmy? You’d have spectacular time, I’m sure.”

“I can’t think of a place I’d rather be” answered Jimmy, spreading his arms wide. “Well, I hate to run, but it is a busy night. I’ll see you later. Don’t forget those pictures, okay?”

“We won’t” said Dave, taking another sip of beer. Jimmy stood up with a wave and put his chair back at the empty table just in time for Lauren to seat another couple in the rapidly filling room.

“Hey folks, how are you this evening?” Jimmy asked, acting as if he pulled the chair out for the new female guest. “Please sit, hope you have a wonderful time here. If you need anything, just let me know.” He smiled and waved, heading back out into the crowd.

The walls of the main dining room, along with most of the walls in the massive old farmhouse that Jimmy had converted into his restaurant and bar so many years ago, were covered in pictures, chronicling the history of the little town. Old black and white scenes from years past with everyone in stiffly formal clothes, candid scenes from the annual holiday parties at the restaurant, team photos from every year that Jimmy had consistently sponsored the little league baseball team. A time lapse flip book of life. Jimmy slipped into the hallway between the dining room and the bar on the other side of the house. An antique grandfather clock sat in the dimness, marking out the official time of the restaurant with its somnolent ticking and somber tones. It was full of pictures from the beginning of the business, the dilapidated rooms of the virtually abandoned farmhouse that everyone thought Jimmy was nuts to buy. A widely grinning Jimmy, with much more hair, stood at the door, Marilyn standing next to him holding little baby Sean in her arms. Jimmy stopped and touched Marilyn’s face in the picture briefly, lightly. It would be twelve years this October since Marilyn was gone. Jimmy straightened his tie a little and headed past the grandfather clock into the bar

The bar wasn’t quite as full as the dining room, but it would be as the night wore on. Jimmy slipped behind the bar, checking on the pint glasses and the liquor bottles on the shelves.

“We’re good to go Jimmy, don’t worry” said Chuck, slowly filling a Guinness. “Should be another busy night.”

“I know Chuck, just making sure. The band gonna be here soon?”

“They’ll be here in another half an hour, setting up and ready to play by nine thirty.”

Jimmy slapped his head bartender on the shoulder. “Under control as always, thanks Chuck.” He turned around as slim young woman came around the back of the bar, pulling her hair back into a ponytail “Hey there Ashley!”

“Hi Jimmy!” She gave him a quick hug before grabbing some clean glasses below the counter.

“You’re headed back to school next week, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, my last weekend here, until winter break anyway.” Ashley said, setting aside the Guinness Chuck had poured to settle.

“Please come back, you know there’s always a place for you. We need you here, the customers sure don’t come in for an ugly lug like Chuck.” Ashley laughed and Chuck sighed and shook his head. “You need any help with those business classes, you let me know. You can’t look everything you know from books, you know.” He walked from behind the bar towards the kitchen.

“Thanks Jimmy!” said Ashley, as he walked through the swinging doors. The kitchen controlled chaos, stovetop and fryer competing with the slamming of plates and steam from the dishwasher for supremacy.

“Hey Mike, any more problems with freezer number two?” Jimmy called out over the bustle of the kitchen crew.

“No, it’s still humming along!” Mike hollered from across the kitchen, standing at the stove and sautéing a huge pan of mushrooms. “I think that repair job’ll hold up.

A young man lurched past Jimmy towards the kitchen door, a full serving tray balanced precariously on each hand.

“Here let me help you with that.” Jimmy said, taking the tray from his left hand.

“Thanks, I thought I was going to, er, I mean thanks Mr. Dervin” squeaked the young waiter, noticing his benefactor was his boss.

“Jimmy, just call me Jimmy. No problem at all. Your second week here Scott, you like the job?” Jimmy asked as he led Scott back past the grandfather clock to the dining room.

“Yes sir, I do.”

“Knock it off with the sir, okay? Not necessary, I’m just Jimmy. Mike tells me great things about you, you’re really working hard. I just want to say thanks.”

“Wow, ummm, you’re welcome.”

“Which table?”

“Ummm, table eight.”

“Excellent.” Jimmy’s glance swung over to table eight and noticed the O’Hara family. “Well, hello there everyone, Debbie, Alan, Alan junior, Chrissy, Erin, Lily, and last but not least, little Joey! You folks having a good time tonight?” The O’Hara clan chorused in the affirmative, and Scott began to hand out the plates. Jimmy turned to Debbie and Alan. “I know you’re planning on moving to that new house soon if you need any help, just let me know, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks Jimmy, we’ll keep it in mind” said Alan.

“If we promise to take the kids here to eat afterwards, I’m sure we’ll get everything done in a few hours” answered Debbie with a laugh.

“That’s what I like to hear. Scott here will take care you, one of our finest waiters. Anything you folks need.” Jimmy stood up and tugged at his tie, swallowed back into the sea of people.

The years and unfathomable number of hours had given Jimmy an unmatched understanding of the rhythm of the restaurant. He flowed between the dining room, bar, kitchen, and storage rooms, checking on the state of the bathrooms, ensuring orders were going smoothly, anticipating the needs of every area of his customers needs. He carried dirty dishes back to the kitchen and freshly cleaned pint glasses back to the bar as the grandfather clock in the main hall’s sonorous tones marked the hours. Jimmy’s well trained ear picked out a discordant note in din of the crowd as heated words were exchanged between a drunken man in a baseball hat and faded overalls and another equally drunken man in a tight black shirt. Jimmy headed towards the pair only seconds before the man in the black shirt pushed the main in the overalls.

“Hey, hey, hey, not in here! NOT IN HERE!” Jim stepped between the two as the man in the overalls was about to start swinging, and Big Arnie the bouncer pushed his way through the crowd. Arnie grabbed the man in the overalls and drug him away, and Jimmy turned his anger on the man in the black shirt. “You! Not in here! Sit down!” His fury pierced the clouds that booze had settled around the man’s head, and he meekly sat at the nearest barstool. Jimmy stood by the man silently until Big Arnie evicted the overalls and came back for the black shirt. “Wait, is he gone?” Jimmy asked. Big Arnie nodded in the affirmative. “Good, no fights in the parking lot either. Now get him out of here.” Arnie pulled the black shirt away before he could open his mouth, and Jimmy stood shaking in anger and silent by the bar, tugging at his tie. Chuck came over and patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry Jimmy, you know how guys get with beer muscles.”

“I know, I know” Jimmy sighed. “But it’s still doesn’t make any sense to me.”

The grandfather clock kept on chiming out the hours and the crowd began to thin out. Jimmy helped oversee the shutting down in the kitchen and the last load of dishes got ran through the dishwasher. There were only a few lonely stragglers left as Chuck flipped the lights on in the bar. Jimmy stood by the door and said goodnight to the last patrons of the bar as they filed out into the cool night. One of the very last, and man with long hair hanging in his face, stumbled as he walked past Jimmy and missed the door handle on his first and second tries.

“Whoa there buddy, how about you sit down for a minute” Jimmy said, grabbing his shoulder and steering him towards the nearest empty booth.

“Whatta hell, I’mmm fine, jes wanna go home” the man mumbled and fell into the seat, nearly sliding off. He leaned back and his hair fell away from his face, and Jimmy looked into his unfocused, half closed eyes. He shook his head and turned to Ashley, who was wiping off the bar. “Call a cab” he said to Ashley.

“Don’t wanna cab, dammit. Just want Kelly. She’s gone man, she lef me. Lef me and she’s gone. You don know, you don know”

Jimmy’s eyes closed and he gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I know” he said softly, but the man was asleep. He sat with drunken man for twenty minutes until the cab arrived, and after waking him and prying his address out of him, Jimmy slipped the cabdriver enough cash to make sure the man got home. Jimmy stood and watched the taillights of the cab pull away as Chuck and Big Arnie walked by, carrying the last of the trash out to the dumpster.

“I’ll lock up. You fellas go home and get some sleep. Thanks again.”

“G’night Jimmy.”

“Goodnight Jimmy, see you later.”

Jimmy slowly walked back into the empty bar as the warmth and smell of the crowd slowly leeched away. He poured himself a beer and shut of the lights at the breaker panel behind the bar. The moon shone through the windows, but Jimmy didn’t need any light to walk the route into the hallway, past the grandfather clock, and up the narrow stairway. The path was instinctual, and his feet carried him upwards as he drank from the pint glass. He passed the private dining rooms on the second floor and the storage rooms, to his small office in the back corner of the old farmhouse. Flipping on the lightswitch, he set the half empty glass on his crowded desk and sat back on the dusty and sagging couch. He loosened his tie and slipped it over his head, throwing it next to the beer on his desk. Leaning back, Jimmy looked at the pictures covering the walls of his crowded office. His eyes found his favorite of Marilyn and him, taken twelve years ago, both of their smiling faces, champagne glasses raised in the air. They were standing together at Jimmy’s Place, the New Year’s Eve before she got sick. His eyes closed and he turned his head toward the opposite wall. Sean’s little league team pictures were on that wall, a time lapse flip book of his son, up until the point he had abruptly quit playing. Jimmy curled up to the inside of the couch, trying to remember the last time his son had called him.