Infinite Loop

Chapter 4 - Finding Breakfast

"Yes, another place as tangible as before," Warren mused.

"Pardon me, sir?" A uniformed man walking by suddenly stopped.

"Nothing, I was just thinking aloud. A bad habit of mine," replied before he walked away.

He avoided looking back at the confused crewman while focusing on the ship itself. He took in everything, getting a feel for his surroundings. The ship was not as he first imagined. In his mind, he thought of a large steam liner filled with people. His reality came back to an old freighter with the name SS Andes stenciled on the fading boat life rings hanging on the bulkhead.

From his walk, he found only a few outside cabins wrapped around the aft area below the bridge. When he reached the rear of the ship, he noticed steps leading up to the next level and a sign stating the area above was off limits to passengers. Looking at the structure above him, he viewed two stacks billowing dark smoke from the engines below decks.

Warren stepped back while looking up. He ran his leg into a lounge chair near the rail. A discarded newspaper blew around on the deck and he immediately fell to his knees to retrieve it. Normally, such a reaction would embarrass him. But Warren needed information. Still, he looked around, happy no one seemed to notice.

The man smiled to himself when he saw the English words and the banner. The Havana Post, dated May 25, 1935, was a potential gold mine with information at his fingertips. However, his howling stomach reminded him it was time to eat.

Refolding the paper and tucking it under his arm, Warren began his search for breakfast. He walked past a young couple staring at each other, smiling and laughing, oblivious to the world around them. Warren considered interrupting the newlywed couple for directions. However, he noticed a sign with the words 'Lounge' on the steel wall a few paces away. He quickly went to an open door by the sign.

Inside, he encountered a paneled room which looked as worn and tired as his room. The room gave the impression of being larger than it was. At one end stood the nearly empty bar, supported by a few early morning drinkers. The rest of the room contained small tables scattered haphazardly around. Worn linen cloth covered the tabletops, while each table had rusty chrome art déco condiment holders.

A bartender was busy mixing drinks for a man who appeared drinking early out of boredom. The two other men looked as if they were soothing their hangovers with a hair of the dog. Warren frowned at the idea, but it was their life, or afterlife.

A man dressed in an ill-fitting white jacket came out of a side door while balancing a tray with several large glasses. Warren guessed the server was helping bring another day of drinking to those inside their cabins. He smiled to himself, still trying to grasp how much drinking and smoking came with the era he now occupied.

Pulling a chair, Warren signaled to the bartender, who frowned as he extracted his massive girth from behind the bar. Warren bit his lip and busied himself with opening his paper to keep from smiling in amusement as the fat man limped over. He quickly learned that the bartender's name was Hans, and he was the cook as well.

"Breakfast is eggs and bacon, with coffee," he stated with a German accent. His tone showed it was the extent of the breakfast menu. Warren nodded, turning his attention to the newspaper. Hans hobbled back to the bar, shooing a small cabin boy out of the room.

Scanning the newspaper, Warren's initial hope concerning the information he would find in the paper faded. Much of the news related to the local happenings within Cuba. A mention of Roosevelt's Works Relief Program made the first page, along with Mussolini's acceptance from the League of Nations. The new told Warren he was following a normal timeline. No screwy alternate worlds here. Well, beyond the fact that everything existed as a movie plot.