Day 41: Lunch
Just as von Karma started to enter the doorway leading to the Courtyard to look around for anyone remotely resembling his daughter, that pretentious lunatic's voice rang out over the Intercom, heralding the approach of lunch time. Right away, the damned nurse practically dragged him back into the cafeteria and towards the serving tables, telling him in that cloyingly cheerful tone that he could get his fresh air after he had had his meal. What rotten timing!
His mood worsened as he saw what was on those tables. "Nurse! This is the same greasy, disgusting, perfect-artery-ruining swill that was offered for lunch the last time I was in here! Does this Institute serve nothing else? How is any of this healthy for someone whom you claim has recently suffered from a stroke?!"
"Why, you're right, Mr. Fuchs! Here, I'll fix you a nice, big, healthy salad." Before he could protest that he wasn't hungry anyway, the smiling nurse loaded a heap of greens and some fruits onto a plate for him. Then she led him to one of the tables and seated him there. "Now, be a good man and finish all of that. You will do that just for me, won't you?"
The look he shot her in response indicated that he would never do anything "just for her." Certainly, not consuming this entire mountain of lettuce and carrots. As much as he approved of salads, the portion she served him was nothing short of ludicrous. Glaring at her in silence, he made no pretense of even starting in on this ridiculous travesty of a meal. Finally, she seemed to take the hint, excusing herself to attend to the other patients... but not without admonishing him that his "plate had better be clean" by the time she returned to take him to the Courtyard.
As she left him, von Karma looked all around him to see whether Franziska had come into the cafeteria yet. Unfortunately, as he had already arranged to meet his former roommate at this time, all he could do for now was to attempt to visually confirm her presence in this hellhole. As much as he hoped that the author of the replies to this S.T.'s note was nothing more than an impostor -- in which case, he would make that person pay for brazenly impersonating his daughter -- he was not entirely certain of that right now.
In the meantime, he had other practical matters to attend to. He still needed to speak to Javert to find out what had truly happened during the time he was unconscious. As he surreptitiously scanned the stream of arriving patients for the face of his daughter -- or those of his enemies -- he patiently awaited Javert's arrival, hoping that the man could still recognize him after all this time.
[Closed to Javert]
His mood worsened as he saw what was on those tables. "Nurse! This is the same greasy, disgusting, perfect-artery-ruining swill that was offered for lunch the last time I was in here! Does this Institute serve nothing else? How is any of this healthy for someone whom you claim has recently suffered from a stroke?!"
"Why, you're right, Mr. Fuchs! Here, I'll fix you a nice, big, healthy salad." Before he could protest that he wasn't hungry anyway, the smiling nurse loaded a heap of greens and some fruits onto a plate for him. Then she led him to one of the tables and seated him there. "Now, be a good man and finish all of that. You will do that just for me, won't you?"
The look he shot her in response indicated that he would never do anything "just for her." Certainly, not consuming this entire mountain of lettuce and carrots. As much as he approved of salads, the portion she served him was nothing short of ludicrous. Glaring at her in silence, he made no pretense of even starting in on this ridiculous travesty of a meal. Finally, she seemed to take the hint, excusing herself to attend to the other patients... but not without admonishing him that his "plate had better be clean" by the time she returned to take him to the Courtyard.
As she left him, von Karma looked all around him to see whether Franziska had come into the cafeteria yet. Unfortunately, as he had already arranged to meet his former roommate at this time, all he could do for now was to attempt to visually confirm her presence in this hellhole. As much as he hoped that the author of the replies to this S.T.'s note was nothing more than an impostor -- in which case, he would make that person pay for brazenly impersonating his daughter -- he was not entirely certain of that right now.
In the meantime, he had other practical matters to attend to. He still needed to speak to Javert to find out what had truly happened during the time he was unconscious. As he surreptitiously scanned the stream of arriving patients for the face of his daughter -- or those of his enemies -- he patiently awaited Javert's arrival, hoping that the man could still recognize him after all this time.
[Closed to Javert]