20,000 Waffles Across The Sea

20,000 Waffles Across The Sea

Nicole Dunan

04/19/2023

“The plates they offered this time are sub-par,” Michael murmured to himself, but Finn recalled that he had devoured the plate before him like a monster. “There’s no argument. A perfect fit for a B tier, especially in comparison to the one up near Tal—”

“Absolutely not! Your tastebuds just suck, man!” Finn remarked as he shot up from his chair, pointing accusingly at Michael. “I mean, who orders that? Every. Single. Time.”

A small smirk grew on Michael’s features. “I’m being smart about it. If I’m consistent and the quality suddenly drops at one of these places, I know it's the restaurant and not the meal. I’ve told you this before.”

“Dude. This is basically all we’ve eaten every day of the week. My tongue would’ve rotten off by now!”

Michael merely shrugged. Finn scowled in response.

“B tier. And that’s final. Two to one, no question.” Henry had now chimed into the conversation, loosely pointing at Finn with a fork. “Maybe next time you’ll have the majority opinion!”

“I’m.. I’m sorry? We’re done now. I wanna go home!”

“You said every Wafflehouse, right?” Henry rose a brow, tapping against the table impatiently.

“We said every Wafflehouse! And that’s done and done! I’m pretty sure that one near.. ah, shit, it had the noodle place right by it? With that cre—“

“The one at Pensacola.” Michael said curtly. Finn made it a grand gesture to point at him.

“That one! That one’s the best!”

“I ‘unno. This next one might just beat it! We have to give it a shot.”

Michael began to snicker, swapping an odd look with Finn. He gestured for Henry to go on, intrigued.

“There is one last Wafflehouse!” Henry now announced more dramatically, tapping right into his Dungeon Master persona. He gesticulated for Finn to bring forth the map he had, to which Finn provided with him hesitantly. Henry popped open the cap of a sharpie.

“A place of no return. Where no monster nor fiend dare to trend, as the sea threatens to rip most to shreds. She shows no mercy in her once glittering waters reduced to solid black, laying most to rest in her murky depths.”

Finally, Henry circled a specific location down in the keys. Finn wrinkled his nose.

“One. Why not draw it in pencil?! That’s mine! Two, that map’s old! I kinda brought it just cause it was funny to. That whole area is gone now.”

“That. Wafflehouse. Is still. open.” Henry slammed his hand down to punctate his statement, leaning forward towards Finn. “I swear to Satan below they build these things to be bomb shelters. There is a Wafflehouse. And we are going there.”

Finn looked to Michael, to see if there was a backup to his argument.

“You will owe me so—“ Michael paused as he took in Finn’s expression. “Me and Finn so much money if there is nothing there. I’m going to make you sign a legal contract.”

“..Okay. Well. I guess I don’t mind it.” Finn mumbled to himself as he picked up the map, passing a thumb briefly over the area highlighted. It didn’t seem to be too bad of a drive over from his own place. Maybe two to three hours max? Then again, it wasn’t like he could properly read this thing. And he’s never been this far down before— there was no real reason to.

“If you’re so certain,” started Michael, eyeing Henry carefully. “Let’s dig your grave further. None of us is allowed to check whether or not it's actually open. No phone use, either. We’ll use this thing.” He nodded towards the map.

Henry fell silent as he considered Michael’s conditions carefully. He puffed his chest as he brought out a hand to shake it, much to Michael’s surprise. Despite his hesitance, Michael took it, giving one firm shake before pulling his hand away.

“Aalright!” Henry shouted, raising a fist to the air in victory. He stood up from his seat. “Let’s try for Saturday! Early as possible!” And then he took off. No real need for confirmation— with the current break they were on, it was almost guaranteed that their weekend was open. Regardless, it frustrated Finn that this kid practically assumed he had no life.

“..We’re not using that map. Or, if I’m driving, and I am, I’m using a GPS. Really didn’t think he’d agree..” Michael muttered lowly, voice trailing off. He then fell silent as his eyes widened, groaning as he slumped in his chair.

“Christ! The fucker bugger didn’t pay!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Yeah, yeah! I got it. I got it!”

Finn called to his worried parents downstairs. They were pestering and pressuring to pick up the pace in his packing. His crew had agreed to pick him up at a designated time. It’s thirty-past that now. The usual. And with the friend he knew was manning the vehicle, Henry, he had another half an hour left to work with— unless the wheel were to be robbed and passed over to Michael. Then he’d be screwed. The mere thought of the possibility alone caused him to pick up the pace.

Right now, he was overturning his entire room. The kid was opening and slamming drawers closed, groaning and frustrated as he dug through documents and knicknacks, thrown piles of clothing on the floor or heaps of schoolwork lumped lazily together on a drawer nearby. He had just about everything by now. Sunscreen, tons of water, plenty of sweet-oriented snacks, portable chargers, binoculars, whatever.

He didn’t have the one thing he had promised to bring: A map. That wouldn’t be too big an issue in the first place, as everybody could probably just download the map onto their proper devices, but regardless it drove Finn mad. Should anything go awry, he wanted some kind of backup. But worst of all, he did not want to be the only traveler who hadn’t brought anything to contribute.

“..Bada bing, now I’ve got it!” Finn cried out, clutching the frail piece of paper dramatically. His shoulders melted from the locked tension as he kissed the document twice for good luck, stuffing it right into his bag before hopping right down stairs. On his way down, the door resounded with a brief two-note high pitched ring. They were here, and he was right on time.

Now he was one foot out the door, halfway turned to say goodbye to his father a bit behind him.

“Hold it.” His father grumbled, grabbing Finn by the arm briefly to ensure he didn’t run off before he could even finish. The man’s voice suddenly grew dark and low. “I swear to god, if you come back dead, I’ll travel to whatever dumb spirit realm you inhabit and pour salt right on you.”

“Yup! I—“ Finn chirped out then froze, raising a brow as he looked in horror.

The man burst out in hearty laughter, letting go of his boy as he patted the top of his head. Now, he had switched to a lighthearted, teasing tone. “I’m kidding! If you somehow manage to get harmed by a breakfast meal I’ll fuckin’ invent time travel just to see it. Now go. And be careful,” he hissed out at the end.

Finn giggled to himself, waving frantically to brush off his fathers concern. Finally, he made it through the doorway.

He stepped along carefully at their small, white port, murky disgusting waters lapping along the edges. Finn’s house, like many others in the area, were simply seated on a floating surface, edges lined with poles to hold down whatever vehicle with rope. His own garage held a medium sized boat with a jetski.

Finn groaned out to himself as he stepped towards the boat parked just right outside his home. Henry was just climbing back into it after ringing the doorbell. The sight of him made him sick, though he wasn’t the only one at fault. Michael had agreed. But then again, he trusted Michael’s judgment. Should Finn and Michael be right, this’d be a huge fuck up to hang over Henry’s head for years.

He stared down the white, sleek boat, built like an odd rectangle with rounded edges and a reverse pyramidal front. This was Henry’s only boat. The balls he had to take it out so far.. well, it was admirable.

“Are we all set?” Michael called out, tilting his head to the side to watch Finn hop on. He smiled at the mere sight of him.

“Mmmhm!”

Michael nodded as he gestured for Finn to take a seat. Soon enough, the engine of the boat came to life, rumbling loudly and causing the vehicle to vibrate just a little.

The trio were off. For about a good portion of the first half of the ride, they were fine. The two that were left as passengers chatted up a storm in the back, often discussing the humors and horrors that came with the national online school program they participated in.

They passed by a plethora of boat neighborhoods— clusters of boathomes set in somewhat-neat lines. In fact, at some point, they had explicitly tried to find a neighborhood. Restaurants often passed through the area on their own little boats, appealing to lazy residents who didn’t want to start up their own vehicles and head off to the small ‘islands’ that contained malls. Finn interpreted them as more adult ice cream trucks. It saved any trouble with hunger no snack could fix— thank God Michael had remembered to bring money.

At some point, Finn dared to gaze over the murky waters. He could barely pick out his reflection from within— tainted and filled with odd debris from the lost cities beneath it. He wrinkled his nose at the surrounding stench. A good way through, he had grown accustomed to it, but being right in front of its source was a fat reminder of its existence.

He stared down at the waste he had left behind from his meal and down back at the water. Finn trailed his gaze back to Michael and Henry and then chucked it at the water. The ocean could handle just one more item. It’d be fine.

“Hey! Could I get 5 minutes with my phone?!” Henry yelled out at Michael. Finn had noted that there was a plethora of dings and chimes in the air. If he had to guess, he either forgot to inform his parents where he was going, or just wanted to text his significant other, who he may have also forgotten to inform. He began to snicker at the thought that both possibilities may be real.

“No,” called back Michael firmly, not bothering to firmly tilt his head back. His own phone was glued to a stand near the wheel of the boat. According to both of them, Finn had missed a huge war over the use of a GPS, to which both sides proclaimed they won.

“Your ruling shall be respected!” Henry shouted out, shifting around to get more comfortable in the boat’s red cushioned seats as he pulled out his phone. Finn giggled.

Finn blinked as he felt a cold drop of liquid roll off his arm. Then another. His eyes slowly trailed upward and witnessed the oncoming dark set of clouds rolling in. For now, droplets of rain came and went in small, near unnoticeable intervals. Part of it was a relief— it was searing hot. Normal as it was, it felt nice to cool down, and Finn wouldn’t mind it all too much if it came pouring down as the weather suggested. The other two, on the other hand—

“..Guys?” Finn squeaked out, catching the attention of Michael primarily. Henry seemed busy doing.. Henry things. Finn then pointed upwards, causing Michael to focus upwards on the sky. The kid frowned as he placed his head in his hands, tapping against his temple. “I’m guessing none of us checked the weather?”

Michael mumbled something intelligible to which Finn gestured for him to repeat.

“..I only checked for our area..” Michael said quickly, cheeks a tad rosy. Was he embarrassed? These kinds of things were something he had always prided on.

Finn took off the jacket seated around his waist, approaching Micheal and offering it to him. Michael eyed him with hesitance before placing part of it over his head. It’d save maybe the upper part of his body if the sky wasn’t too angry.

Michael grabbed for his phone, frustration present in his features as he opened a browser. Right in the address bar he began to type for ‘weather near me’, but it was the page he was on that caught his eye.

“Michael, could you scroll down for me?” Finn said with a strained tone. Michael flinched as he closed the page he was on. He continued on, trying to pretend that nothing had occurred. Now the rain was beginning to pour.

“Michael!” He said more loudly. Henry, having slipped his phone away to protect it from the flying liquid above, was now set on the conversation ahead. “C’mon, man! You promised! I get the GPS thing. Fine. Get there safe, come back safe, but the whole point in not knowing was so there was an equal chance at an ‘I told you so’! What the hell!”

Michael’s head merely tilted downwards, a bit aways from Finn’s scolding words. Well, perhaps it wasn’t the ‘I told you so’ factor that bothered him so much. It was more so the hypocrisy in breaking a self-imposed rule. Finn groaned, grabbing loosely as his own wet strands of hair. What he had seen was a Wafflehouse welcome page. Scrolling a bit down would reveal a location tracker. It's what they had primarily used for every other location in the first place.

Finn threw his head back to gauge Henry’s reaction. Henry’s expression showed bits of anguish, but Finn found it a bit hard to take him seriously as he pulled his phone out once again just to record the argument.

“..What now?” Henry croaked out, raising his volume to counteract the pelting rain against the metal of the boat. He muttered curses to himself as he tried to swipe water off of him.

Silence fell over the trio, with Finn glaring daggers into Michael. All Michael did was focus his attention all onto the wheel. But why? Why continue when he knew the answer? Was it because the place was actually operational? How?! Would he really let Henry win over that, too? Maybe it really was closed. He just pushed on purely to see that sweet look of victory written off of Henry’s horrified defeated face.

Now howling winds had entered the fray, tugging against their damp clothing violently. Now the rain has gotten annoying. Finn wouldn’t mind being wet, but being wet in a cold setting was the last thing he wanted.

He retreated and took a seat right next to Henry who now looked like a soaked wet puppy. For now, his lighthearted demeanor had sunk. The unsaid consensus was to keep going, but neither of them seemed to dare to offer a topic of conversation. Henry was glued to his phone now, despite the damn thing nearly dying. Finn would’ve offered a charger if the rain didn’t leave him so pensive.

The storm had eventually begun to subside. Finn couldn’t tell just how much time had passed— for the thick atmosphere that came, he had attempted to nap. It had grown boring. He recalled the map in his bag, frowning. Maybe it would’ve been better if they had thrown out any electronics together— maybe hidden on a compartment somewhere, he didn’t want to lose contact with his parents— and used this map instead. The bickering that would’ve followed in trying to use the map would’ve been enough justification to go on this ride in the first place.

Michael suddenly kicked up the boat’s speed, causing it to jerk forward. Finn yelped as he nearly fell off from his seat. He stared in utter bewilderment, fixing his slouched position to properly see what was up ahead. It was some kind of half-drowned mall plaza-esc area. There were some restaurant boats in the area, lingering near the skeleton of their ancestors. Tourists flooded the area more than the water did itself, curious to see just what was left of the tropical sight of the keys.

Henry clapped and howled out his excitement. They were here and what they’d been looking for was now stationed right in front of them. The Wafflehouse in question was a roof now— but not just a roof. There was an entire operating kitchen set upon it. Even with the odd slantedness of the floor they stood on, the workers passed each station with grace and pride, handling every order efficiently.

Finn wasn’t going to question how the hell this was possible, nor why they didn’t bother to choose a restaurant boat instead. Henry had seemed to catch Finn’s expression, for he said,

“That’s just Wafflehouse! I told you!”

“..Here, this one’s on me.” Michael finally spoke, patting down his wet pockets in search for his wallet. Well, everything had been on him—he was the only one with currency—, but Finn wasn’t going to comment on that. He figured it was meant as a kind of apology. Regardless, he looked amused.

With their orders taken and delivered, they parked a bit aways from the Wafflehouse to ensure it wasn’t cluttered. Finn sneezed before he rubbed his hands together. He ordered the exact same meal as he did a few days ago.

With his plastic utensils, he cut into it and popped the food into his mouth. His eyes widened, swapping expressions with his two other friends.