Ashes to Asher

“Welcome to Danvers Diner, what can I get for you?” Emil looked up, and then down, to see the rather short waiter standing beside his table. He shook his head and looked again. No, the kid was still there.

“Oh, I don’t know, someone old enough to legally work in a diner, maybe?”

“Hey, I’m legal,” the kid snapped. “Ok, just in this diner, but still legal. You look like you need a coffee? I'm also betting you're a really sweet with a lot of milk kind of guy.”

“What did you just say?” Emil choked.

“Relax, mister, I was talking about the coffee you drink, nothing else, you got it?”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Emil fumed. “You’re practically a baby. The very idea of… I would never….”

“I am twelve, that’s a long way from being a baby, mister,” the kid snarled. “Do you want a coffee or don’t you?”

“When you get to be my age, you tell me if someone your age is a baby or not, and yeah, coffee, just like you said,” Emil agreed. “I’ll have a diabetic coma in a cup, bonus points if it’s caramel flavored.” He snorted then and wiped a tear from his eye. He turned and saluted the black plastic box he had put on the table when he had sat down.

“Is that like a real live dead person?” the kid blurted interestedly.

“Yup, that is a real live dead person,” Emil confirmed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is there some health code about not putting the box on a table? I don't even really know why I brought it in with me.”

“Heck if I know,” the kid shrugged. “So, who is it?” he asked, pointing at the box.

“He was very special to me,” Emil answered in a whisper.

“I told you already, I’m not a baby. You can tell me he was your boyfriend or your husband,” the kid snarked, rolling his eyes.

“Danny, go get your phone out from under the register and do whatever it is you do on it.” Emil looked up to see a man with thick gray hair sticking out from under a baseball cap glaring at the kid as he walked closer. “And if you’re going to watch porn on there, wash your hands before you leave the restroom.”

“Grandpa!” the kid squeaked, blushed bright red, and ran from the table, but he did grab a flat black thing from beneath the cash register as he hurried past it.

“One caramel kamikaze coma in a coffee cup,” the man said as he held out a cup to Emil. “Also, an apology for the lack of manners of the kid who thinks he’s a big shot because I let him work out front here, never in the kitchen.”

“Legal here because he’s related, I take it?” Emil asked as he took the steaming cup and took a sniff, moaned, and then took a sip, only to moan even more.

“Hey, I run a respectable joint here," the chef complained. "If you're going to get lewd over something it should be me, not the coffee.”

“Excuse me,” Emil choked again. “Did you just flirt with me?”

“Don’t take it so personal, Grandpa flirts with lots of old men,” the kid’s voice called out from somewhere.

“Put the phone back and go play in traffic, you little menace,” the chef called out.

“You love me, Grandpa, and there is no traffic in this town,” the kid retorted. “It’s boring here, so my shift is over until the evening rush. I wouldn’t want you to get overwhelmed by all five of them at once.”

“Get out of here, you rotten little…. Hey, don’t you even think about leaving here without a hug first,” the man snapped.

“I would never,” the kid said, rolling his eyes again. “I love you, Grandpa,” he said much more sincerely as he snuggled the man from the side. “I’ll go help Mom with the library for a bit, but I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“You don’t have to,” the man told him as he kissed the kid on the head. “You can stay with your mom.”

“And eat her cooking for dinner? Is this your way of telling me to start checking out your future nursing home with a dementia unit?” the kid snorted as he ran out the door onto the sidewalk.

“Just for that I’m making cherry pie for dessert tonight,” the older man called out the diner entrance after the kid. He walked back to Emil’s table and started apologizing. “The kid don’t know when to keep his trap shut, even if I do love him like he hung the sun in the sky.”

“I take it your grandson’s not a fan of cherry pie,” Emil observed with a chuckle.

“God no, hates it with a passion,” the older man laughed. “And technically, he's my great-nephew, not my grandson, but he never got to know my brother, so he calls me Grandpa instead. Can I get you anything besides your caffeinated sugar buzz? Oh, and to answer your earlier question, I don’t think there’s a law against having cremated remains on the table as long as they stay in the container, but if there is, what the health inspector don’t know won’t hurt us. Now, how about you do me a favor and take the last piece of yesterday’s apple pie so I have the pan clear for that cherry pie tonight?”

“You’d really make him eat the cherry pie?” Emil asked, looking up at the other man.

“Of course not, but I want to show it to him before he sees the peanut butter pie that I already made for him and Old Barney. Sorry, Old Barney is a friend of mine that comes in for dinner every night since his wife passed.”

“My sympathies to Mr. Barney,” Emil said with a sigh. “I sort of know how it feels.”

“So, this was your husband or boyfriend?” the diner owner asked as he sat down across from Emil. “You have my sympathy then.”

“No, we weren’t…. It was complicated,” Emil stammered.

“Well, seeing as you are the only customer and you’re not ordering anything, I have the time to listen if you’d like to talk. I’m Asher, by the way.”

“Emil, and this was Robert,” Emil answered and gestured to the black box. “We first met on social media a while back, and then we would see each other at events and places around town, but about five years ago he got bad news from his doctor, so he had me move in and start taking care of him. I’m a live-in caregiver, or was, I mean I have a degree in gerontology, but instead of working in an assisted living center or nursing home, I cared for individuals in their home.”

“A very noble calling,” Asher said softly. “I have no plans on needing it any time soon, but I hope when that time comes, I get someone like you, instead of a sanitized bed in a sanitized room somewhere.”

“I hope so too, I mean, I hope that you get to go the way you want to,” Emil agreed. "Robert was born in this area, and asked that his remains be scattered in a particular place, a canyon near this town where he spent a lot of time when he was a child.”

“Quite a few canyons…. Wait a minute,” Asher started and then interrupted himself. “That’s not Robert Valheim, is it?”

“Yes, that was his name,” Emil admitted. “Did you know him?”

“Not as well as I would have liked,” Asher admitted. “I mean we were neighbors and went to school together all the way up to high school. I expect you’re looking for Danvers Canyon, then.”

“Yes, that was the name of the place,” Emil agreed excitedly. “I expect it’s private property, so scattering his ashes won’t be possible, but I would like to at least visit the spot… you know, with him,” he added as he gestured to the box once more.

“Well, you’re right about it being private property, but I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with the landowner,” Asher said smugly. “Heck, I don’t figure there’ll be any trouble with the state either, come to think of it. Robert’s grandparents, his mom and his step-dad are all up in that canyon already along with my whole family except for little Danny and his mom. I had part of it legally designated as a cemetery years ago when we lost Robert's grandpa and his grandma followed a month later.”

“I'm sorry to hear about that, but this means you’re the property owner?” Emil asked.

“Have been since my old man died and got buried up there, which Robert was there to help with. He left for college right after that, and I went to work full time in this place. Now how long were you planning to stay in town?”

"I made no real plans," Emil admitted. "Robert left me his house in his will, but I couldn't stay in it once he was gone. I sold it and put the furniture I wanted to keep in storage. I haven't looked for a new patient, because I just felt I needed a break, but the longer the break, the less I want to go back to it, you know? To be quite honest; at the moment I'm homeless and have no idea what to do with my future."

"Well, that's just fine, then," Asher announced almost happily. "Umm… I mean it's not good that you are all at loose ends, but this way you can spend a day or two, or more, here in town. I can close the café after breakfast tomorrow, and take you up to the cemetery myself. I would kind of like the chance to say goodbye to Robert myself."

"That sounds really nice," Emil agreed with a smile. "Now, do I need to talk to anyone in town or at the county or state level about scattering the ashes?"

"You talked to me, that's good enough," the older man told Emil. "Don't misunderstand me, it would be different if he were being buried in the family plot up there. Just scattering ashes though, I think we can get away with not bothering anyone about permits or such just to, for lack of a better term, dispose of some ashes on private land."

"To be fair, he did specify that he wanted his ashes to be scattered at a specific spot," Emil mused aloud. "I'm not sure if that would be where you put the cemetery or not, of course. He never mentioned it, though."

"Let me guess, he wanted to be scattered at the bend of the creek just beside the old mine entrance?"

"How could you possibly know that?" Emil gasped.

"Because good old Robbie picked the spot that he and I spent the most time when we were growing up," Asher shrugged. "We used to skinny dip in that creek and explore that old mine shaft until we went out there one day and found that there had been a cave in blocking the mine."

"Oh, my goodness, what if you two had been in it when it collapsed?" Emil squeaked.

"Our sentiments exactly," the diner owner agreed. "We were about fourteen years old at the time, and it scared us pretty good. We made up for it though. Built ourselves a treehouse just outside the mine entrance. Well, I could make my way to that spot if I was practically blind. This won't be a chore at all. I can swing by and get you after the morning clean up, unless of course you want to come here to eat before we head out. I know Moony puts out what hotel people call a continental breakfast at the hotel, but it's just sliced bread that you toast yourself, some packets of instant oatmeal, and fairly weak coffee. Just don't tell her I insulted her coffee. Several of the older ladies about town just love her brown water."

"Wait, back up a bit, who is Moony and which hotel?" Emil stopped the other man and held up a hand as if he were back in school.

"Well, her name is actually Moonrise Eveningsky, but most of the locals just call her Moony," Asher told Emil. "And as for which hotel, there ain't but one in town and she runs it. It's a few doors up the street when you get ready to bed down for the night."

"Is she Native American?" Emil asked interestedly.

"Oh no, she's just an old hippy that never quite left the sixties behind, even though she left her sixties behind a while ago now. I shouldn't say too much about that though, seeing as I'm going to be leaving my fifties behind before the end of the year."

"You don't look a day over forty," Emil blurted before he could stop himself.

"Now who's doing the flirting?" Asher laughed.

"Oh, I just meant you look good," Emil confessed with a bit of a blush. "Uhh I mean, maybe a little over forty, but certainly not sixty,"

"Oh, you blushed, you really were flirting, weren't you?" Asher grinned and sat up straighter.

"I'm sorry, my mouth got ahead of me," Emil said quickly. "Please don't stop me from carrying out Robert's final wishes just because I'm…."

"You're what? Gay? Kiddo, why do you think I'm that little heathen's uncle and not his real grandpa?" Asher chuckled. "You're safe here, kid."

"I'm hardly a kid," Emil pouted and then realized he sounded just like Danny had a few minutes earlier.

"A good looking stranger once said 'When you're my age, you can tell me whether people your age are kids or not."

"Touche, kind sir," Emil blushed a bit more.

"I declare I didn't know people young people were still capable of blushing," Asher marveled aloud. "Danny only does it when I tease him about his nonexistent sex life which he is too young to have, but not too young to want. Anyway, I figured all you Gen whatever's were too jaded for that."

"I may have a degree in gerontology, but I'm not too fond of labeling and dividing people into generational groups. I tend to believe people are just people. I focus more on individuals than groups. Trying to fit stereotypical cohort descriptors onto people makes you miss their distinctiveness, their personal story. Although I will admit that anyone younger than me grew up in a very different world than I did."

"My apologies," Asher said seriously. "For what's it's worth, I agree with you. Growing up where I did means that I didn't experience the world the same way most of the other kids in my generation. Heck, I didn't even experience the world the same as most other kids my age in this town. None of them worked in the only diner in town, but then I didn't help in my step-dad's lab the way Robert did." He glanced over at the clock on the wall and made a face. "Speaking of work, it's time for me to get back in the kitchen. I have to wash the dishes and get started on that cherry pie. You sure I can't talk you into that last piece of apple?"

"You just did," Emil smiled. "I wouldn't want to deprive little mister attitude the joy of getting pranked."

"You're a man after my heart," Asher laughed as he stood up. "Oh, sorry if that sounded a little forward."

"Forward is always better than backward," Emil said softly. "You don't get anywhere new by going backward."

"You, sir, are an intelligent man," Asher smiled at him. "We don't get a lot of those in these parts. I hadn't realized how much I had missed it since Robert left. I guess I got so used to being alone that I didn't think about how lonely alone really is." He then got serious and told Emil, "You know you don't really have to eat the pie. I don't want to coerce my customers."

"If you must know, I wanted the pie all along, but I was afraid of that old saying, a moment on the lips and a lifetime on the hips," Emil told him. "I am very careful about my shape despite being gay dead for 5 years."

"Well, I can't say anything about your shape, as you've been sitting the whole time I've seen you, but what is this gay dead thing you're talking about?" Asher asked as he went to the counter of the diner and served up the last piece of pie on a small plate.

"It's fairly common knowledge in the greater gay community that life, at least any form of social life, stops at age thirty."

"So, what's your point kiddo? You can't be that far past it that…. Wait, you were serious about being thirty-five? I wouldn't have guessed over twenty-five." He stepped back closer to the table, placing the pie in front of Emil. "You don't look like a plastic surgery poster boy to me, either. You must have found a great surgeon."

"I did not," Emil scolded. "I have not had any work done, ever. I just never did any of the stuff that most people do which ages them prematurely. I have no use for drugs, or tobacco."

"You mean to tell me that you have never smoked or done drugs or even taken a drink?" Asher asked sarcastically.

"I never said I had never taken a drink; I happen to like having a nice fuzzy navel for social occasions, but I certainly don't have one every day. Oh, and I really liked that Sloe Gin Fizz that I was talked into once."

Asher snorted and then laughed out loud. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I can see where you might really like those sweet and fruity drinks."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emil demanded.

"Well, first there was your coffee order, then there was the delicate way you drank it," Asher started listing. "I'll be nice and not even mention your name."

"Delicate? What is delicate about drinking coffee?"

"Well, try not to get too riled up about it, but the last person that I saw drink coffee, or anything else, with their little pinkie finger extended was my mother. Not to mention the dainty way you're eating that pie."

"There is nothing wrong with proper manners," Emil defended. "I was taught to eat and drink this way. My moth… umm… my older sis…. All of my cousins were taught this way, too."

"And how many of those cousins are males?" Asher prodded with a raised eyebrow.

"That is not the point," Emil spluttered. "It's… it's just good manners."

"Emil, I don't mean any disrespect when I say this, I truly don't, but you're about as macho and butch as the Ladies Sunday Brunch and Tea Flower Show."

"You want macho and butch, watch this," Emil blurted. He snatched up what was left of the very tasty apple pie slice from his plate in his bare hand and shoved it all into his mouth at once.

"Very manly, I am impressed," Asher said as he rolled his eyes, and then he caught Emil sucking the sticky gooey pie filling off his fingers. "Yep, time for me to get back to work now," he called out and practically ran for the kitchen.

Emil laughed a little as he turned back to the table, only to let a perfectly manly yelp of surprise. He did not sound like the proverbial horror movie bimbo at all, thank you very much. Across the table from him an old woman cracked up in a true belly laugh.

"I first thought I had come in at the wrong time, but I'm so happy I got to see that. It's been years since I saw Ashie tuck his tail and run for cover," the old woman gasped nearly in tears from her laughter.

"You and him can both go back to your hotel now, Moony," Asher yelled from the kitchen.

"Come on, Starchild, Grumpy Gus needs some private time after that little show of yours," the old woman said with a mischievous grin. "Oh, you missed a spot. You'd better suck that finger clean, too."

"GO HOME, Moony, and take him and Robert with you."

"Make sure you wash your hands when you're washing dishes before the dinner rush," Moony called out.

"OUT!"

"Let's go, Starchild," the old woman smiled.

"Actually, my name is Emil, Emil Corneau," Emil told her.

"Did you just say your name is Cornhole?" There was a loud crash from the kitchen, and Emil turned back to look. "Oh, we should definitely go now, sweetie," Moony giggled.

"Shouldn't we make sure he's all right?"

"I'm fine, just go, please," Asher called out. "And Moony, you behave yourself with him."

"Oh, but Ashie," the woman whined.

"NO, act your age, and pretend you're a lady, please?"

"Fine, but only because you actually said please," Moony pouted. The older woman held out her arms for the black box in Emil's hands. "I babysat Robert and Asher when they were little. Could I give him one last hug?" Emil didn't see the harm, so he handed the container of ashes to her. "You weren't supposed to go before me, Robbie, but I thank you for the treasure you sent, even if the gift is more for Asher than me." She looked up at Emil and smiled. "I cleansed the Royal Suite with sage for you just this morning."

"I'm not sure about a suite, just a regular room will be fine I'm sure," Emil told her.

"Sweetheart, you may not look your age, but you're certainly old enough to know to let an old woman have her few delusions of grandeur," Moony scolded gently as she walked over to the rental car that belonged to Emil for the week. "You can drive this up to my parking lot now, or you can come back for it later. It will be safe enough either way. But I know if I can still walk from my place to Asher's and back, you should be able to make it there on foot."

Now that he had been shamed into walking the distance to the hotel which really wasn't that far, Emil just followed Moony up the street, looking around as he did so. There was a teenage girl that came out of a small grocery store so she could hug the old woman. She had smiled at Emil when they were introduced, but she had to get back inside to work the cash register so they didn't speak much.

"Megan's family owns the grocer's," Moony explained. "They've had the place since before I was born." She looked down at the box in her hands and giggled softly. "Remember when you and Ashie used to go in there and drink your sodas on the hot summer days. You were always being extra loud about how hot it was and how much you were sweating so nobody would know you two had been up to the creek skinny dipping again." She smiled and squeezed the box a bit. "Always thinking no one knew what you two were up to, and never fooling any of us. When you started figuring that out, rather than stay and talk with us, you left town and now you come back like this. I have to tell you, Robbie, it's not one of the best comebacks I've ever seen. Your timing f'ing sucks."

Emil's reaction to the little old lady's language was sidetracked by the fact that they were in the lobby of the hotel now. The room Emil found himself in had a grand sweeping staircase on one side that wrapped around a very ornate and antique brass cage elevator. He could see a sitting room furnished with fabulous antiques through a doorway to his left, and to his right was a gorgeous Victorian period dining room with several small bistro table and chair sets scattered around it.

"I'm not as lost in the sixties as Ashie says I am," Moony laughed as she led Emil to the check in desk. "I do have a computer, see?" Emil struggled to hide his reaction to seeing a beige IBM monolith that reminded him of something he had once seen in a history of computers documentary. He tried not to grimace as the old lady pecked one finger at a time on the keyboard, entering his name after he told her. He had offered to give her his driver's license, but she had said she wouldn't be able to read the tiny print. "What's your address, sweetie?"

"Umm, what's the address of this place?" Emil countered. "I don't exactly have a home right now. I sold the house where I had lived the last few years while I was taking care of Robert." He wasn't exactly prepared for how fast the old woman rounded the desk and caught him in a hug. "You stay here as long as you need, sweetheart. Now here's your key to door number one upstairs on the next floor. Don't go to the top floor, some of those rooms have leaky ceilings. I lay out a little nibble at seven in the morning, but I expect you'll want to eat at the diner with Ashie. He's always been such a good, nice boy, even if he was a little mischievous about sneaking off to the canyon mine with Robbie to play. Boys will be boys, of course. Not that I have to tell you, since you're a boy yourself."

"Thank you, ma'am," Emil told her with a flourishing kiss to her hand, like a Victorian gentleman. "it's been a while since anyone called me a boy; it's nice to hear."

"Now don't go flirting with me," Moony laughed. "I'm well past that time of life. I used to babysit half the folks in this town before I took over this hotel. I doubt there's more than ten butts in this town that I haven't put in a tub and scrubbed at some point."

"Well, there's a mental image," Emil laughed. He studiously refused to think about the image that suddenly popped into his head of a naked Asher. "I'll just go put my things in my room, then," he said as he rushed up the stairs.