Thirty four

Finally, we made it onto the main street in Meza giving me a ground-level view of the townlet. It looks bigger from ground level than it does from above, but not by much. Still, absolutely mesmerising sight, regardless of which point of view you're looking at Meza.

Along the main street, there are various boutiques with unique elegant dresses on display, convenience stores, and a few bars with very cheeky names. And I'm starting to believe that Graham's humoristic trait is something widely spread in this very quaint little town. And he was right, I love Meza already and we have been outside for less than half an hour.

The predominant architecture is saccarian, but intermingled here and there are newer builds with simpler features, and sharp corners, but they all have one thing in common, blue tiled roofs.

" The blues roofs, is that some sort of a requirement in Meza?" I ask Graham, with my eyes all over the place. There is so much to take in, that I struggle to keep up with the boys.

" Yes and no. It is your everyday terracotta tile, but the clay around here has a mineral that turns blue when baked. So, all the roofs are blue," He shrugs and tucks his hands into his pockets, continuing his evenly-paced stride.

People are milling about and something strikes me as unusual, they all greet as they pass each other, which usually means that this a tightly knit community. It does come with a bitter-sweet taste since I grew up in a small community, but never been truly part of it, not out of my own choice. Not at the time, anyway.

Unlike Morston architecture, the houses are smaller, sparsely decorated, but tasteful. There are a lot of shrubs, and flowers beds, there is minimal fencing, and the lake shore is lined with weeping willows, and poplar trees.

The town is bustling, as the sun begins its descent towards the forested hillock.

There are no roads leading out of the basin, except for one narrow gap in the hillside. Giving a spectacular focus view of the sun sinking towards the horizon.

" What's beyond the hill?" I ask, trying to sate my curiosity.

" Taka city. We will go there in the following days. The only way is by boat. And the last boat left a few hours ago," Graham informs, while I let my eyes wander even more.

Graham makes a swift turn to the left, and we follow him across the road.

Mason hasn't said much since we left, he seems to be lost in his thoughts.

The little scuffle between him and Graham has served its purpose and eased the tension between the two friends. I suppose a good smackdown is what they needed to sort out their issues.

Graham stops in front of a little shop and takes a deep breath. Food. Not just any food. Good food. The kind that makes you drool just by smelling it before you even get a chance to lay eyes on, or taste it.

The place is called, ' Spanking Mary' and I look at Graham, he grins at me over his shoulder and shrugs.

" The name is old. It has been passed down for generations. The story goes that the lady of the house had a certain taste in the bedroom. Whenever one of the locals asked the owner about his day, he simply replied, ' Spanking Mary', his wife." I can't help but laugh as we step inside, and take in the simple decorations, but homey feel of the place. It is nothing dazzling to the eye, but it smells amazing inside.

The scent of burning wood blends with the smell of wine, stout, and home-cooked food.

The tables are made of cedar wood, with little benches, sitting on an uneven stone floor. The walls are made of uneven blocks of rock, their jagged edges stick out, giving it a feel of something that has seen the passing of hundreds of years, if not more.

The walls are decorated with candlelit sconces, and different renditions of the lake throughout the seasons and ages.

" What is the lake called?" We all settle onto the chairs lined up at the bar, while Graham calls for the bartender. A rather burly old man, with a graying bushy beard, thick spectacles, ruddy cheeks, and a very small round hat plopped on top of his head. He looks rather comical in that hat.

" Sunniva. Eye of the sun." Graham replies, just as the bartender shuffles his feet across the floor to us. I find that name very interesting, while I let my eyes roam a little bit more over the bar it seems to have been stuck in a different era.

" What can I get ya'?" He asks eyeing the three of us.

" Hi, Hugh. How was your day? Can I get a dark one, my boy here," Graham pats Mason on the back," Will have your best Amber," He looks at me, and gestures with his head for me to speak.

" I'll have a glass of water," I say shily and Graham laughs," And a glass of wine," Dying will have you reconsidering your choices in life. I might not be here tomorrow. I really don't want to think that I've missed my chance of having my last glass of wine.

Hugh wipes the bar, and nods," Aside from the usual spanking, it has been a good day. Pretty busy for this time of the year, but you won't hear me complain," He says as he gets the drinks ready.

" Good. Good. I'm glad. What's on the specials? It smells amazing" Hugh turns with a glass of white wine and candidly smiles at me.

" White for the lovely lady, you wouldn't want to stain those pearly whites," He laughs, and I blush under his intense gaze, " Venison stew. Fresh kill," Hugh supplies without taking his eyes off me.

Wow if his eyes could speak, the stories they would tell.

Releasing the stem of my glass, he slides Mason's glass of bourbon across the bar counter in front of him without even looking or spilling a drop of his bourbon. Now, that is some skill.

We say our thanks and Hugh moves on to someone else that requires his attention.

Graham takes a sip of his imperial stout, and sighs contently so loud that heads turn in our direction.

" Jesus," Mason mutters under his breath and takes a sip of his bourbon, but he doesn't seem to want to pace himself, and drains the whole thing in one go and grimaces.

" Easy there,' Hugh slides to us from the other side of the bar the moment Mason taps the counter three times.

" Seems you two have had a rough few days," Hugh comments casually, Graham laughs, and Mason catches the glass the moment Hugh slides it over to him.

" Nah, we did this to each other," Graham thumbs between him and Mason, and I hide my smile behind my glass of wine while Hugh's gaze slides to me.

Hugh grins from behind his bushy beard giving a flash of his yellowed teeth. It was their choice to brawl like a bunch of cavemen. I had nothing to do with it.