Machia Veil Timeline

08:50 am, July 3rd – The Lyon’s Inn, Denewood, Surridge

Forester was not happy, but Nate brushed it aside. He needed the job like life itself. So, he mixed up the delivery of food and shattered an entire tray of glasses. He didn’t let the Roberts know they had run out of rum cake. Nate insisted he had it under control. But every question Forester’s clients asked him made him jittery. The restaurant was hectic. The diners frowned at him.

“Nate, grab the ketchup with your tray to avoid a second trip. Think of reducing the runs you make, or you will burn yourself out. And warn the Farley’s about the rum cake!” said Sue.

***

Morning – three days later

They relegated Nate to dish washing. He refrained from throwing a tantrum despite the unfairness. He imagined taking the water spray and soaking everyone in the kitchen. Dancing on the food or peeing in the soup.

“You okay boy?” asked the chef.

Nate stopped in his trance. “Yes!” he said, startled. “Sorry boss!” he kept on scrubbing.

That night before bed, Nate took out Lauryn’s pendant and read the inscription. Life is change, and how we adjust will make or break us.

Dangling the pendant, he held it tight with his hand, leaning it on his chest and closing his eyes.

Scrubbing plates was alright, it was the constant flow of pots and pans that strained his arms and back.

***

They supplied him with a large waist belt the last washer had used.

“You will strengthen your muscles, my boy, keep at it!” said Forester.

Nate recalled the time he agreed to a hike up a steep mountain. He wasn’t used to it and his friend gave him nuts and fruit to regain energy. So, as his dishwashing became more arduous, Nate used that tactic throughout the day. This allowed him to gain physical strength. He had no choice. He never wanted to be hungry again.

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Nate collapsed in bed after a long day. He was glad Kenya did not see him. It was mortifying. But he hoped his mother would.

According to the tabloids, they spotted “Ava Kenler”, as she was called here, strolling through Denewood. So, whenever he had a break, he scanned the faces of every pedestrian and driver in the village, expecting to find her. He also searched for her at the Lyon’s Inn. His heart always raced with anticipation, but disappointment followed.

***

Two days later

The staff at the Lyon’s Inn were buzzing. Nate was elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing the pots when Sue burst into the kitchen.

“She’s here! Ava Kenler, wow! She’s so beautiful,” she said.

“She is!” said Chef.

As others chimed in, Nate removed his back belt. At last!

The kitchen staff crowded around the doorway, craning their necks to glimpse what was happening outside. Despite the difficulty, Nate pushed through.

But a large arm blocked his way.

“Where are you going?” asked Dan, the sous chef.

“It’s my M-, It’s my mmm-” said Nate. He hesitated.

“They have asked for tight security. We’re not allowed out of the kitchen,” said Dan.

“No, you don’t understand. Please let me through, or at least tell her about me. She will want to know!” said Nate.

“What do you want to say?” Forester asked, checking his bills.

“That Nate is here,” he said, biting his tongue from saying son.

Forester spoke to a guard when Nate called out. “No! To Aria!” he said, pointing to his mother.

He spun around. “Shush!”

“Mum!” said Nate at the top of his voice. “Mum!”

The staff tackled Nate to the ground.

“Will you shut up! You can’t just barge in? It’s Ava Kenler!” said Sue, as Nate struggled to liberate himself from their grip.

“He’s lost it!” said Dan.

“What’s this?” asked a guard.

“Oh, nothing!” said Sue.

Overwhelmed by desperation, Nate found himself muffled and unable to move.

“Let me go!” he struggled. “Let me go!”

The guards pushed Sue and the sous chef aside, and their weight pressed against his back. A man dressed in black caught Nate’s attention. He resembled a bodyguard. He followed Nate with a stony, sphinx-like expression.

Nate lost the chance to get to his mother.

The Bellatorn guards recognised him. “You again!”

Nate attempted to say something, but his voice failed him.

“My apologies,” Forester said, his face reddening. “What can we do to improve your visit?”

“She hasn’t noticed,” the guard said, eyeing Aria. “But I would fire this boy. He is delusional. Last week, he barged into Bellatorn, claiming to be Ava’s son.”

“He what?” asked Forester.

“I would keep this chap well away from Denewood.”

Nate flinched.

***

An hour later.

“Take your things and go,” said Forester.

“No, no, no, no! You don’t understand!” said Nate.

“I understand too well! You’re a stalker after Ava Kenler.”

“No, she is my, she is my, my…”

“I will let you stay the night,” said Forester. “But tomorrow you’re out!”