The Seat That Would Not Keep Still- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

Cutlery chimed against porcelain in uneven bursts. A steel-grey sky pressed against the glass front of Sea Gate Diner, and wind pushed spray from the beachfront across the entrance mat. Families crowded the waiting area; a clipboard of names grew heavier with each pencil mark. Jasper’s name was finally penciled beside a small number on the clipboard, yet more parties kept arriving. Outside, a landscaper wheeled damp planters past folded patio chairs, his boots leaving wet arcs on the tile. The late-spring tempest had driven tourists indoors, turning the dining room into a temporary retreat.

When a booth opened, Jasper moved quickly, but the tabletop still gleamed with translucent water rings. A server wiped once, then hurried away to the bar counter where the baker slid silver trays of rolls beneath a blue heat lamp. Jasper tested the booth; the seat rocked on an uneven metal foot. His cousin’s cake would not survive that wobble. He folded a frost-white napkin, but it crushed flat and solved nothing. He then noticed an abandoned wooden stir stick on the condiment caddy. Using it as a wedge, he pressed the stick under the short leg. The seat steadied for a moment. If another burst of wind arrived, the laminated menus would probably flutter across the aisle and land on the damp floor.

A sudden thunk from the kitchen doorway shifted everything again. The swinging door had bounced against the booth, dislodging the fragile wedge. Jasper scanned, then spotted a narrow, chrome dessert spatula resting on a service tray. He slipped the spatula beneath the leg; its thin spine carried the weight far better than the stir stick. The booth finally held firm, but the surprise came when the hostess returned to report that a late sauce change had pushed his order to the back of the queue. Plates would come, only after another cycle of preparation. Jasper leaned back, hands still cool from the steel tool, while a low hum from the coffee machine lingered in the air.

餐具撞擊瓷盤，敲出不規則的叮噹聲。海門餐廳的整面玻璃窗外是一片鋼灰天空，海風把海濱的浪花推到門口墊上。候位區擠滿了家庭；寫滿名字的夾板因每一次劃記而更沉。店員終於把賈斯珀的名字寫在一個小號碼旁，但更多客人仍不斷湧入。外頭，一名景觀工人推著潮濕花盆經過摺疊的露台椅，他的靴子在地磚上留下一道道水痕。春末的暴風雨逼得觀光客躲進室內，讓這間餐廳成了臨時的避風處。

一個卡座剛空出，賈斯珀立刻走過去，但桌面仍閃著半透明的水痕。服務生擦拭一次後就匆忙趕往吧台，那裡麵包師正把銀色烤盤推進藍光保溫燈下。賈斯珀試了試卡座；座椅因一隻不平的金屬腳而搖晃。他堂弟的蛋糕在這樣的晃動下肯定撐不住。他把一張霜白餐巾折疊後塞進去，可是被壓扁後毫無作用。他注意到調味盒裡有根被遺忘的木攪拌棒，於是將它作為楔子塞在短腳下。座椅暫時穩了。如果再吹進一陣風，塑膠封面的菜單很可能飄到潮濕的地板上。

廚房門口忽然傳來一聲沉悶撞擊。彈回的門板又把脆弱的楔子擠了出來。賈斯珀環顧周圍，發現送餐托盤上放著一把狹窄的鉻色甜點抹刀。他把抹刀塞到座椅短腳下；細薄而堅硬的刀背比攪拌棒更能承受重量。卡座終於穩住，然而意外隨即出現——領檯回來說，因為醬料臨時更改，他的餐點被退回廚房隊伍最後面。餐盤仍會送上，只是要再等一輪製作。賈斯珀靠向椅背，雙手還帶著鋼具的涼意，耳邊只餘咖啡機低低的嗡聲。