Flesh

FLESH

"Big Brother can't dictate what books we read or religion to practice. I say he can mind his business elsewhere as well."

A whip slender man in a black cowboy hat ushered in the applause, pausing briefly to hug his boy. They had arrived by rail from Pueblo with hopes of having a father and son experience to remember.

An elderly couple from Switzerland were yearly visitors, while a high school football coach from Pittsburgh was living out a 'bucket list' dream. Instead of clapping he tapped a fork against his dinner plate repeatedly and with gusto.

The privileged numbered a dozen, some of whom were seeing for the first time the eloquent voice of their misunderstood lot.

An adoring coquette, holding the book she hoped later to be signed, abruptly gushed her appreciation: 'I just want to thank you for everything you've done for people like us.'

His black eyes widened with interest while appraising the tender beauty.

'No my dear, thank you.' he replied. 'Thank YOU.'

'Will we always be in the shadows, Doctor?' asked another.

'It's up to us.' he reasoned, coercing his gaze from the young ladies bared shoulders, 'Who will implore others to try our ways-or at least be open minded thereof-unless we?'

As he raised his glass a vague smile revealed rows of enormous teeth: 'To someday!'

'To someday!' came the unanimous reply.

The comradeship was still fresh when a clattering trio of dumbwaiters crowded with serving trays, platters and dishes were rolled into the room.

Steam billowed as a sinewy hand raised one gleaming dome after another. Amid the potatoes, onions and carrots were thick steaks, plump sausages and marbled fillets. The greatest squeals of delight however came with the last revelation- a rack of ribs glazed a deep crimson.

Algernon Craven, guru to some and ghoul to others, waved the magical aroma to his aristocratic nose.

'And now my fellow cannibals...bon appetit.'