The Tempo of Tempura-Chapter Thirteen- Tara gets friendly and Dr. Burris get serious

The phone call from George came into Gomen’s the same time T.J learned Vicki indeed swallowed faster than she drank. A kimono-clad waitress broke the news to assembled guests.

“Everyone, T.J. Poling is going to be delayed this evening. Please feel free to order and drink from the menu as you like. It is on the Poling Foundation tonight.”

“What are you going to drink, Cameron?”

“Green tea.”

“‘Green tea’? What’s that all about?”

“I’m not old enough to drink, Martin.”

“Dude, does this look like a place that’s checking IDs tonight?”

Cameron shook his head. Martin raised his hand and gave a quick whistle to get a good looking waitress’s attention. The kimono-clad woman shuffled to their table.

“What’ll it be, boys?”

“A beer with a whisky chaser for me?”

“And, for your friend?”

“The man of the hour will have a glass of champagne and a tequila shot. Top shelf.”

“Martin, I don’t know if I should be drinking.”

“Relax, my metabolically-challenged pal. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

The waitress left to get the drinks. The pair took a seat at a large table surrounded by a circular, red velvet sofa. The table was covered with plate upon plate of tempura. Cameron’s eyes grew wide.

“I see you eyeing that shrimp, Cameron. Have at it. It’s free.”

“You boys got room for one more?”

“There is always a seat for you, ‘Lazy Eye.’ You can sit next to me. Cameron, is that alright with you?”

Cameron said nothing. He was busy shoving shrimp tempura into his mouth. A moment later he came up for air and noticed Tara sitting next to Martin.

“Oh, sure, sure. Whatever.”

“Hey, hey, look at you guys having all the fun. Can I join you? Congratulations again, Cameron.”

“Thank you, Ernie. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Ernie took a pair of champagne-filled glasses from a passing waitress. Tara grabbed the tequila shot sitting in front of Cameron. She poured it in her mouth, and she slammed the shot glass down on the table.

“What does it take for a girl to get some service around here? Blood?”

It took Tara a moment to realize the entire table was staring at her. Another waitress sprinted to the table. Cameron put his chopsticks down, and he stared at Tara.

“A round of shots for everyone and keep them coming.”

“Cameron?”

“What? Can’t a guy have some fun?”

“That’s the spirit, Cameron. There may be hope for you after all.”

“That’s enough, Martin. You let him be.”

“Whatever, ‘Lazy Eye.’”

The shots came and three more followed. Martin, for all of his bluster, was not a professional drinker. And it showed.

“Hey, Ernie, I’m not feeling so hot. Let’s call it a night.”

“Fine. I struck out with the band girls anyway.

“Even the slutty ones?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, the women in the band are not whores. Okay?”

“You’re one to talk, ‘Lazy Eye.’ You’ve been draped over Cameron for the last hour.”

“Leave them be, Martin. Cameron sure doesn’t seem to mind.”

Ernie gave Martin a shove to help him from the sofa. Martin grabbed his cell phone from the table. Cameron and Tara were left alone. Two waitresses and a busboy were busy cleaning up around them.

“You two ‘lovebirds’ going to get a room or what? We’re trying to close up here.”

The once large crowd had dwindled down to a handful of drunk local government officials. Large plumes of grey smoke wafted above a group of red-faced Japanese salarymen sitting at the large table across the way. Cameron munched on the last bits of tempura on his plate as Tara leaned against him.

“Well?”

“Well, ‘what’?”

“Well, my soft, little boy, are we going to get that room?”

Cameron’s eyes widened. Tara’s hand made it down the front of Cameron’s slacks. She, like Vicki, left no doubt where she wanted the evening to go.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s this I see going on here?”

Cameron threw down the shrimp tail in his hand. He yanked hard on Tara’s wandering hand, pulling it from his pants.

“Oh, nothing, nothing, Dr. Burris.”

“Ha, ha! That does not look like ‘nothing’ in your pants. Were you born in a barn? Zip your fly, young man.”

Cameron did as he was told. Even in her drunken state, Tara was mortified to have a professor catch her in such an awkward position. The poor girl grabbed a white, cloth napkin from the table. Tara frantically wiped her face to make herself presentable. It did not work.

“I’m so, so, so sorry Dr. Burris.”

“I think it’s time for you to head home, Tara. Don’t you?”

“Yeah, come on Cameron. Let’s go. Okay?”

Cameron stood up to leave. Dr. Burris grabbed him by the sleeve of his black jacket. She yanked him back down on the sofa.

“I said it’s time for you to go home, Tara. Cameron’s a big boy. I’ll take good care of him. Right, Cameron?”

Cameron licked his sauce-covered lips. The fried crumbs of the night’s all-too oily, Asian feast fell from his grease-covered chin. Dr. Burris grabbed a white napkin from the table. She wiped Cameron’s face and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Tara realized for the first time her professor was interested in Cameron for more than his musical talent. She did her best to save what was left of her self-esteem.

“I said ‘Come on, Cameron.’ Let’s get out of here. Now!”

Cameron froze. Dr. Burris’ hand slid under the table. Cameron’s jaw dropped. Dr. Burris smiled as she gave a wicked little wink to her younger would-be replacement.

“I’m good, Tara. I think I’ll stay with Darlene.”

“‘Darlene’? What the hell is that about, Cameron?”

It was clear Tara was defeated. Tears fell from the co-ed’s bloodshot eyes. Dr. Burris moved her hand rhythmically under the table as she glared at her young nemesis. Cameron’s breathing was heavy.

“‘Age before beauty,’ my dear girl. You see, Tara. Cameron is in better, more experienced hands. You be a good little girl and skip on home. Especially if you want to pass music theory this year. That scholarship of yours depends upon it.”

Tara’s shoulders slumped. She picked up her small, pink purse, and she searched for taxi fare. That did not go well.

“Damn it! I’m broke.”

Dr. Burris pulled a folded twenty dollar bill from inside her black lace bra. She tossed the crumpled money on the table. Dr. Burris gave Tara a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Take it.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Never let it be said Dr. Burris does not take good care of her students. Isn’t that right, Cameron?”

“Yes, Darlene.”

“Besides, Tara, you can pay me back on Monday. That is if you want to keep your job, too.”

“Oh, I do. Thank you, Dr. Burris, I think.”

“You go run on home now. It’s way past your bedtime. Sa-yo-na-ra.”

Tara took the money and left distraught. Dr. Burris turned her attention to Cameron. The young man looked lost as he searched for more food. Cameron grabbed the last edible piece of shrimp tempura on the table and scarfed it down whole.

Dr. Burris was hungry for another variety of tempura. She dropped in front of Cameron’s lap and popped her head up a minute later with a slobber-covered smile. Cameron was finished, but Dr. Burris was not.

“Well, now, my big, stiff, young man, what about that room?”

-The End-