text: “Deadly Desserts” by Francesca Quarto The table was like a setting sun, floating inside the otherwise gloomy dining room. It was alight with candles; five burning in each candelabra; five gleaming silver holders running down the center of the long banquet table. The dark wood of the table appeared lustrous under the gentle sway of the flames. Each place setting was laid with near geometric precision, not one spoon or knife breaking the perfect line and pattern. The fine china was a delicate cream, bordered in intricate golden vines. The heady fragrance of freshly cut roses wafted through the doorway where five people stood in a huddle, staring into the room. “Harrison, I don’t think we should just seat ourselves. Let’s wait until the butler returns from checking on the electric.” The lights in the imposing manor house had begun to flicker like fire flies before they all went out. The butler left the guests standing in a shadowy hallway outside the dining room, assuring them of his imminent return. Margery Gladstone was speaking softly to her husband, but there were murmurs of agreement among the other three. Harrison Gladstone thought about this, but after another minute of lurking outside the room, asked “Why not my dear? We are, after all Bradford’s guests, and he won’t want us standing about like a mob of sheep in his hallway.” There was a giggle from Mandy Clarkson, the young woman they met when they arrived. As they were handing coats and wraps to the servant in the brightly lit marble foyer, the chatty girl said she and her husband Bill were newlyweds and still unpacking boxes in a cottage they rented in the village. “It was real nice of Mr. Bradford to invite us tonight. Bill only just started in the tool shop at the factory, so we barely know a soul outside of the local pub and butcher!” She laughed as did her new spouse, looking at her affectionately. Gladstone raised his eyebrows at the mention of Bill’s menial labor as a factory worker. His factory to be precise! He grabbed Margery’s elbow and steered her into the dining room, sitting her next to him as he took the chair to the host’s right as was befitting his station in the community. He provided work for over seventy men and kept food on their tables. His factory produced fine farming equipment to all the surrounding regions, even shipped overseas to American agricultural suppliers. He was an important man, with important responsibilities. The young couple sat across from Gladstone and his wife, leaving the fifth guest to take the chair next to Mindy. He had merely nodded his greetings to the rest of them when he first arrived and joined them in the foyer. Harrison wondered at his silence, but was never one to offer his hand to a man who hadn’t proved his credentials in a formal introduction. The silent guest smiled at Margery, ignoring Harrison, and turning toward Mindy and Bill spoke for the first time. “Good evening. Doctor Malcom Mallory at your service,” he said bobbing his head slightly. The candlelight reflected off the bald circle at the crown of his head. Bill Clarkson reached across his wife awkwardly and offered his hand. Harrison Gladstone gritted his teeth at the cheek of the man! His harumph did not go unnoticed by Mallory who had a thin smile on his narrow face. “Exactly what kind of ‘doctor’ are you Mallory?” Gladstone gruffly asked. Margery sighed deeply, knowing her husband would be out for blood at the afront of being ignored by this Mallory person. “Why, I am a Doctor of Divinity sir.” “Humph. And what connection have you to our host?” he went on to ask, a sharp edge to his voice. “I am here to speak truth to lies, sir. As simple as that. But first, our diner seems ready to be served.” A servant carrying a silver tureen, appeared out of the shadows surrounding the diners. Another servant followed, placing a small soup bowl on each guest’s plate. The first servant approached the table, while the other carefully ladled a thin broth into each bowl. The guests were all silent during this process, only Bill and Mandy saying a cheerful “thank you much” to the servant. Margery could hear Harrison gritting his teeth at such inappropriate behavior. The Doctor watched the others from under his bushy brows, as they sipped at the odd tasting broth. His own silver spoon merely moved around in the bowl creating tiny wavelets. Ten minutes went by and Mandy asked the table, “What did you think of that soup? Kind of plain, but very tasty I’d say.” Harrison could be heard groaning at yet another faux pas. “Where in damnation is our host?” he growled. Margery’s hand was on his arm trying to calm the ire that rose along with a deeper flush on his florid face. “He’s likely fussing with the electric dear, trying to repair it so the lights come back on.” They all turned as yet another two servants appeared out of the shadowy hallway carrying platers of meats and side dishes. They set these down on the sideboard a began the slow process of serving the five watching guests. “Where is our host, Mr. Michael? We’ve been sitting here now for a good forty minutes in a half-darkened room and no sign of the man!” Gladstone’s voice was tinged with indignation as he stared daggers at the servant. He’d only accepted this invitation because this Michael character was a promising new customer, though he couldn’t recall who had passed that information along to his attention. But unless he showed himself, and soon, Gladstone would be out of there! “I can assure you your host will join you in time for dessert, sir,” the unruffled server answered. Before Gladstone could ask anything more, the servants both melted into the shadows. The two couples began to eat from their generously filled plates. The Doctor pushed his food around the plate, using his heavy knife to slice into the tender meats, but not eating. His odd behavior caught the attention of his young seat mates. Bill leaned down to see past his wife. “Don’t have an appetite Doctor Mallory? This here’s fine meat I can tell ya!” I prefer to save my appetites for dessert young man. But I am sure the fare is quite fine,” he smiled warmly into the young man’s honest eyes. Margery was always a quiet woman, as her husband preferred, but she was drawn into the conversation between the Doctor and the young man, adding she loved her sweets as well. Her husband looked over at her saying, “And it shows my dear.” Her blush was so deep it glowed pink under the soft light of the candles. Mandy was immediately drawn away from enjoying her meal by the cruel comment lobbed at the older woman. “I think a real gentleman would never say such a thing to his missus! You look fit and strong Mrs. Gladstone; both are gifts from the Lord.” Gladstone’s fork clattered on the bone china plate when he threw it down. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner? What would the likes of you know of gentleman, when you are not a lady in any sense of the word!” Before Bill could rush to defend his wife, a servant materialized from the gloom surrounding them like a dark mote. “Your dessert is ready to be served ladies and gentleman.” A tall man, stepped from the dark hallway into the shallow light pulsing around the guests. He was dressed in a silvery suit that fit snugly around his well-muscled body, looking like tightly woven armor in the soft glow of the candles. His hair and coloring were so pale he could have been albino, except for his eyes, shinning like obsidian from a beautifully sculpted face. His voice was like a trumpet call in its clarity. “You have been expecting me for some time, but time is nothing put a weak reminder of our existence, wouldn’t you say Doctor Mallory?” “Indeed, sir. I am ready for whatever dessert you deem justified for me.” “What kind of babbling is this?” Gladstone spat out. Ignoring the outburst, their host turned to the young couple who’s hands were intertwined and their faces open and trusting. “You two have brought your light, even briefly, into this dark world. Your love will forever shine.” Grabbing at his wife’s arm, Gladstone was pulling Margery to her feet. “No Harrison!” she said firmly. “I will stay for dessert!” “Madame,” the host said. “Yours has been a life of long suffering with a brutish husband who never valued your kind heart and sure wisdom. Your desserts will be many.” Gladstone growled like a caged animal. “How dare you? Who are you to try to lord over me? I don’t need to be insulted at anyone’s table, no matter how finely it’s set! Margery, I’m leaving with or without you!” But when he tried to move, Harrison Gladstone found his legs were frozen in place and he couldn’t rise from the chair. “It’s plain to see you have no idea where you are Mr. Gladstone. Perhaps it would be better if I showed you.” There was a sudden bolt of blinding light. Gladstone felt like his eyes were seared in place and he fought desperately to blink them for relief. “You will no longer be able to close your eyes to the truth,” the gleaming Archangel said to the petrified man. “The fire in your factory spread to many nearby cottages, and many died trying to save the workers, such as Bill. You, Gladstone, lived a life of greed, envy, cruelty and lies and now you will be served your Just Desserts.” The candles were snuffed out, one after the other. With each darkened candelabra, one of the guests disappeared, leaving a small pool of light for the one remaining. The candles burned, but never melted. The flames were dancing for him alone and his loneliness became overwhelming. “How long have I been here? Hours? Days? Years!” He began to howl into the darkness surrounding him, wishing to find eternal oblivion instead of and eternity of eating his banquet of thorny desserts. The End