“Hello. My name is Lucifer. How many will there be tonight?" The host inquires of his guests. He is a modestly sized man, slender and poised, but not fragile. He has very short hair on top of his head and a slightly less short beard beneath his chin. He is finely dressed in a black tuxedo and a sly smile.

A tall, soft spoken man with long, blonde hair that is bound in a loose pony tail replies, “Just the three of us, thank you.”

Lucifer leads the three men across a brilliant scarlet carpet to a table near the back of the restaurant. He is confident and does not turn to see if they have decided to follow. Their path winds around a two tiered, alabaster basin. Water flows from the top tier to the bottom tier in which stands a three foot tall sculpture of a woman. She has her body turned to offer forth a pomegranate with one hand while the other hand is concealed behind her. A snake coils around the concealed hand. Plants are generously placed around the fountain and near the walls creating the general feel of a forest or garden. Emerging from behind this vegetation are various human sized sculptures of characters from classical Greek and Roman culture. Lucifer seats the three men beneath an impressive representation of the Greek god Poseidon then disperses three menus which are bound in red leather.

“Your waitress will be by in a few minutes to take your order. Our special tonight is the ‘Original Sin’ sampler platter.” After saying this Lucifer spreads his smile even farther about his face and winks at Poseidon, as though the two of them share some private joke. Lucifer departs and all three take their seats.

Taking no time to look at the menu the soft spoken man abruptly says, “So... why did you bring us here for dinner, Mr. Appleton?”

“Sebastian, you always have been a direct and impatient fool. Let yourself relax. Enjoy the ambiance.” Mr. Appleton motions with his hand to direct their attention to the surroundings. “I just love the character of this place. It is quirky in a way that offends the ignorant masses. Besides, I could not think of a more fitting place to discuss my new business proposal.” Frederick Appleton is a master of control. He will get to the purpose of tonight’s gathering in his own time. On cue the three men open their menus and begin to review the selections.

After a brief moment Mr. Appleton closes his menu and turns to the third man who has remained silent until now. “Otis, I have a job for you. I wish to acquire a painting that the owner does not wish to sell. This is where you come in.” Otis is a strong man with a wide open forehead and thick eyebrows. He puts down his menu to focus intently on Mr. Appleton’s every word.

“What did you say?” A cook yells over his shoulder, as just a moment ago a noisy clanging of dishes obscured the words of the restaurant’s owner. The kitchen is a bright and lively place with hard surfaces that reflect sound.

“I said that Mr. Appleton is here again. You know who he is? He’s the banker from downtown.” Lucifer says this while he mixes pieces of cut broccoli with a bowl of chilled pasta shells. A white apron now covers the front of his tuxedo.

“Oh, is this a special occasion or something?” The cook, named Brian, is a larger man with round glasses and red hair. His uniform consists of a white shirt and triangle hat with navy blue pants.

“Well, you know, I think he likes the irony of discussing secret business plans in the atmosphere of ‘Lucifer’s Restaurant.” Lucifer spreads his arms wide as if to take in the whole kitchen.

“I wonder if Mr. Appleton would be interested in funding an expedition to Scotland to look for the Loch Ness monster.” Brian pauses from tending a sizzling batch of hash browned potatoes and gazes at the air before him in wonderment.

“I don’t know. You might ask him sometime. Although, you would probably have better luck just going to his bank and applying for a loan. Actually, I’ve found that paying for things yourself is the best way to avoid having others control your dreams.” Lucifer plucks an unopened can of mayonnaise from a dry storage shelf and begins to fiddle with the plastic seal. Another loud clanging sound emerges from the dish area behind Lucifer. He rolls his eyes back in annoyance.

Brian suddenly remembers, “Oh yeah, there is a new guy here to apply for the dish washing position. His application is on your desk.”

“Ah good.” Lucifer removes his white apron and uses it to wipe his hands. He walks across the kitchen to his office where, as promised, an application waits. The noise of the kitchen is muffled by the softer features of this room. The desk is an uncluttered dark brown mahogany that is accompanied by a black leather chair. On top of the desk is a golden lamp, a business calculator, and a replica of an early Greek sculpture known as the ‘Snake Goddess’. Her eyes are wild and wide, and her bosom is bare. She raises two snakes over her head in a look of fury. After pausing for a moment to review the document Lucifer opens a door that leads from his office to the restaurant lobby.

“Are you Jimmy?” Lucifer inquires.

A wiry young man nods and utters a muted “Yes.” He has long black hair that hangs just below the shoulders and five rings protrude from the skin above his left eyebrow. He is wearing a black T-shirt that bears a portrait of Alice Cooper and a pair of blue jeans.

“Please, step into my office.” Lucifer invites him to follow.

“Now, Sebastian, I will tell you why I have brought you into our company this evening.” It appears that Mr. Appleton is through toying with the soft spoken, blonde haired man. “I want you to gain access to the records of Heartland City Art Center and find out exactly who does own this painting.”

An uncontrollable half smile betrays Sebastian’s cynical thoughts. “What’s your angle here? If you just asked them they would likely tell you.”

“Have I become that predictable?” Mr. Appleton raises his eyes and smiles to greet a waitress who has approached with their dinners.

The waitress is a stocky lady. Not overweight by any means but she bears the thick calves of one who has spent a lot of time standing. She wears a white blouse with a black skirt and visor. Short, curly bangs of brown hair wave out from beneath the visor and longer, curly hair drops to her shoulders in the form of a pony tail in back.

“Now, who ordered the ‘Flame Broiled Sirloin,’ well done?” Otis raises a finger to indicate his selection. “Then you must have ordered the “Lake of Fire Chili...’ she says confidently as she places a steaming bowl in front of Sebastian. “...because I know you ordered ‘John the Baptist’s Head on a Platter.” Mr. Appleton smiles with immense appreciation. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“I think this will be fine.” Mr. Appleton responds broadening his smile.

“Okay, I will come back to check on you in a little bit.”

As the waitress departs Mr. Appleton returns to the serious direction of their previous conversation and the smile departs from his face. “I have my speculations about who actually owns this painting but I want proof.” Mr. Appleton lowers his head toward Sebastian to apply added emphasis, “And I want it in writing. You see I have good reason to believe that this painting is from the private collection of my nemesis, Colwell Henderson.” Mr. Appleton leans back in his seat and rolls his head back to look up at the statue of Poseidon. “Imagine that. A man with two last names having such a precious item in his possession. This I simply can not tolerate.”

“And having it in writing will do what for you?” Sebastian impatiently inquires.

“I do not simply want to possess the painting, I want to be able to rub my acquisition of the painting in Henderson’s face. You are to secure the contract that Henderson signed with the Art Center to place the painting into the charity auction.” Mr. Appleton’s smile returns as he imaginatively closes in on his prey.

“Ah, now I understand.” Sebastian nods in appreciation. “Henderson places a valued painting in the charity auction, intending to reclaim the painting by bidding for it himself. A public relations stunt set to go awry when Otis makes sure that Henderson misses the auction. You however arrive at the auction, bid on the painting and get the PR victory.”

“As well as the painting which will allow me to stick another thorn in the side of Henderson.” Mr. Appleton grins gloriously at the idea.

“My part is to make sure that Henderson has truly signed possession of the painting over to the Art Center, and to acquire a copy of this document for yourself.”

“Sebastian, thank you for reminding me why I employ you.” Mr. Appleton tips his glass in salute before taking a drink.

“So, why do you want to work here at Lucifer’s Restaurant?” Lucifer leans back in the black leather chair behind his mahogany desk. His legs are crossed and Jimmy’s application rests in his lap.

Jimmy’s voice finally bursts through his shy demeanor to reveal true passion. “Because your restaurant is the coolest thing to ever hit this podunk town. I’d like to be a part of it.” His pale, pimply face begins to redden.

“Okay, hmm... it says here that you have previous experience in the food industry at Burger Busters. What did you learn from your experience there?”

Jimmy pauses to marvel at the bare breasted sculpture of the Snake Goddess which rests on the corner of Lucifer’s desk. “Umm... well, I learned that you have to bust your bottom when the customers are lined up at the counter.”

“Yes, well, hard work does come with the territory in the restaurant business. For a reference you listed Mrs. Bodiger, your reading teacher. So, if I call her she will give you a good reference?”

“Absolutely. Mrs. Bodiger says that I am a real ‘hellion.”

Lucifer pauses in disbelief then offers to shake the teenager’s hand. “I thank you for coming in today. Your phone number is on the application so I will call you when I have made a decision about this position.”

Jimmy takes Lucifer’s hand and shakes it vigorously. “Thank you sir. It would do me proud to work for you.”

The two stand together and leave the office. Looking down at the tiled floor in the lobby, Lucifer mentally notes the organization of the tile. How each individual piece fits together so nicely in spite of their subtle differences. “Jimmy, wait a minute. I have enough information to make a decision, and I would like to hire you.”

“Thank you sir, you won’t regret it.” Jimmy’s face just glows with excitement. He grabs Lucifer’s hands into his own and shakes them vigorously.

Lucifer grins in obvious entertainment as he escorts Jimmy to the door. “Come in tomorrow at five in the afternoon.” He marvels at how nicely his own life is beginning to resemble the tiled floor. Pieces that are so nicely fitting together. Lucifer makes a mental note of how busy the restaurant has been, how full the parking lot is, and how so many people are lined up on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

The smile drains away from Lucifer’s face as he notices the large crowd that has gathered outside. The scene resembles a political rally as people stand holding signs that protest the very existence of Lucifer’s Restaurant. Various chants flow out of the crowd. The chants grow in volume as others join in then fade away being replaced by other impromptu slogans. Lucifer freezes in place by a picture window as his eyes grow wide in disbelief.

“There must be fifty people out there.” Lucifer spits out the words as he struggles to recover from shock. “Were they out there when you came in?”

“Yeah, but the group was a little smaller about an hour ago.”

“Maybe you should go out the back door.” Lucifer suggests out of concern for the boy’s safety.

“I should be all right. See the lady with the big sign that says ‘Lucifer go home?’ She is my mom.” Jimmy smiles in complete enjoyment and runs across the parking lot to join his parents.

“Are you Lucifer?” A female voice asks from inside the restaurant.

Lucifer cringes and turns slowly looking over his shoulder, almost expecting to be ambushed. Instead he encounters a cheerful young woman standing in the lobby. Her smile is mysteriously soothing to him. She has blonde hair and light blue eyes and appears professional wearing a navy blue dress suit. She offers to shake Lucifer’s hand.

“I am Amy Grey, a reporter with the Heartland Chronicle. I am writing a story about your restaurant and would like to ask you a few questions. Do you have time for an interview?”

“I...” The past few moments have placed Lucifer in a completely discombobulated state of mind. He raises his hand in an attempt to accept her offered hand shake but can not complete the task.

“Please.” Amy Grey pleads gently for Lucifer to accept her offer. “I promise to quote you honestly.”

Lucifer finally recovers and says, “Yes, sure. I have time to answer a few questions. Mrs. Grey...”

“Call me Amy.” She cheerily corrects him.

“Of course, Amy. Please follow me.”

Lucifer turns to walk toward his office. After a few steps he turns back again to see if Amy is following. The two enter the office where Lucifer offers her a seat in front of his desk. He sits back in his familiar leather chair and smiles. Perhaps the developing line of protesters will not destroy his day after all. Lucifer attempts to connect with Amy’s gaze but finds the attempt is obstructed by his sculpture of the Snake Goddess. He leans sideways in his seat, first one direction then another. Each attempt to get around the Snake Goddess nearly causes his chair to flip over. The sculpture stares back at him with wild eyes, bare bosom and snakes raised in anger. The sculpture had never struck him before as being frightening. He had always regarded the object as seductive, not angry. He grabs the artwork and moves it to the floor beside him. In embarrassment Lucifer explains, “I apologize for the clutter.”

Unfazed by Lucifer’s discomfort Amy simply smiles and starts the interview. She removes a small tape recorder from her purse, checks to see that the tape is ready, then places it on the desk between them. After flipping open a note pad she asks, “Why did you name your business ‘Lucifer’s Restaurant?”

“That is my name, Lucifer, and this is my restaurant.”

“Is it your given name?”

“Oh, yes. That is what my parents named me.”

“That is just a little bit odd, don’t you think?” Her gentle side struggles to contain a hint of sarcasm.

“Perhaps, but you have to understand my parent’s perspective. My father came to America in the early 1940’s from Germany. His name was Adolf and he was horribly teased throughout school. Even in attempting to secure employment he was discriminated against because of his name. Dad’s way of dealing with this lack of acceptance was to be defiant. The name Lucifer, according to him, was a perfectly good name that did not deserve the awful stigma of being associated with the devil.”

Amy’s expression, while losing none of its glow, has transformed from cheerful to confused. She stares into the space in front of her, motionless, waiting for Lucifer’s words to make some sort of sense. After a brief moment she sits back in her chair and writes a few notes. “But the decor in your restaurant seems to indicate associations with the devil of the bible. Isn’t that contradictory?”

Lucifer leans back in his chair and adopts the slow cadence of defensive intellectualism. “Well Amy, some of the images in the restaurant are associated with Biblical themes but the majority of them come from classical Greek and Roman culture.”

“Many Christians in this town are offended by the name you have chosen for your restaurant. Is Lucifer’s Restaurant about being defiant?”

“My father believed that life is a cruel joke in which you can not avoid the punchline. Dealing with my name means to simply play along with the joke. My name is Lucifer and this is my restaurant. It is as simple as that.” Lucifer crosses his arms in front of his belly.

“Have you ever thought of changing your name?”

Lucifer pauses, unable to answer this question. He glances from left to right and back again but can not find the answer. Quickly he constructs a weak response. “Who are we to challenge fate? We may not like the circumstances life has presented to us, but not dealing with them is a little like not dealing with reality.”

Lucifer grows in confidence as the answer congeals in his mind. “I find it laughable that the Christians are offended by my name. Christianity is itself a faith that embraces the idea of fate. Adam, the first man, ate fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. He was no longer innocent and his curse is passed on to us all. The Christians can not run from this curse any more than I can run from my name. That would be disingenuous.”

“But according to the Christian faith, Jesus’ blood removes the curse. It is just like changing your name. You do realize that it is possible to change your name, don’t you?” Amy leans back in her chair not wanting to push too far. She consciously checks her smile to insure that her demeanor does not appear angry.

Lucifer sits quietly for a moment. Quite frankly this idea had never occurred to him. That a person could deny the dictate of fate and choose a new course, one that was completely unpredicted. He remains silent until the door to the kitchen opens and Brian pokes his head into the office.

“Hey boss, we’re out of forks. Can you give me a hand?”

“I can see you are busy.” Amy gracefully says with a smile. “I have enjoyed our talk and would like to continue it in the future. Would that be all right?”

“Yes I would like that.” Lucifer says genuinely.

Amy and Lucifer shake hands as the two stand to leave the office.