Sitting at a back table in Ya Nuan Chinese Restaurant, Justin had pacified his growling stomach. A local food critic recently posted a blog boasting the best Kung Pao Chicken in Phoenix. The assessment had been correct and was by far the best Justin had consumed in a long while.

After practically licking his plate clean, a short, thin Chinese man of about 45 approached him. He introduced himself as Bob, the owner of the establishment. Justin didn’t think he looked nor sounded anything like a Bob with his rather heavy Chinese accent.

“You enjoy the Kung Pao?” Bob inquired.

“Dude,” replied Justin. “It was amazing. The only place that’s even remotely close is this little dive back in Kansas.”

“They have Chinese food in Kansas?” Bob said with a totally straight face.

“Uh, yeah,” Justin replied.

Bob laughed causing Justin to laugh. “I’m just joking with you. Probably one of my cousins.”

“Really?”

CONTINUE HERE…

Bob patted him on the shoulder. “You want some more?” Justin hesitated. The food wasn’t expensive, but he wanted to reserve funds for later that night when he’d planned to meet his roommate. After completing an intense week of engineering mid- terms, a night to cut loose definitely sounded justified.

Recognizing the hesitation, Bob added, “On the house.” With the restaurant located in close proximity to the downtown Arizona State University campus, many of his customers were college students with limited funds and away from their families.

“Sure,” Justin said. “Why not?”

Bob grinned and returned a few minutes later carrying a plateful of steaming Kung Pao Chicken. He also knew that young college boys always had voracious appetites. He set the yellow plastic plate in front of Justin.

Justin sighed and smiled, “thanks man.”

As Justin savored the tender spicy meat covered with crunchy peanuts, he and Bob conversed. They talked about Justin’s school studies, what he did for fun, and his longtime girlfriend who attended a community college back in Kansas.

Rubbing his bloated belly, Justin thanked Bob again. “I definitely will be back.”

“Great to hear,” replied Bob. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“Shoot,” replied Justin pulling out his wallet.

“You’re a nice young man. I know you study hard and definitely know good food,” Bob smiled, “and you miss your girlfriend.”

Justin nodded as he removed a ten and some ones.

“Dinner’s on me tonight, if you do me favor.”

“A favor?”

“My friend would like to meet you. He has medicine to enhance a good memory with your girlfriend.”

Justin wasn’t following exactly, but had an inkling. He knew the term “medicine” could mean any number of things. And somehow, he got the distinct impression that an old guy peddling medicine from a Chinese restaurant sounded fishy. But he liked Bob in some strange way and couldn’t stop his curiosity from growing. “What do you mean?”

“I promise it will be a very pleasurable experience,” Bob added.

“You’ve done it?” Justin asked.

“Of course. I’d never ask you if I didn’t try. My memory was about my sister,” he said.

Justin thought about it for a few moments. Periodically, he did partake in smoking some weed and swallowing a few pills, but never to excess. He looked at his watch. A couple hours remained before the scheduled meet up with his buddy. Justin looked back up at Bob. A memory about his sister? It couldn’t be all bad then. The thought of what Bob promised, an enhanced memory with his girlfriend, pushed him over the edge.

Bob sensed his young customer was about to agree and took hold of his arm. “You come to meet my friend.”

Justin allowed Bob to lead him through a bustling kitchen full of chopping, frying and yelling, then down a long hallway. Packed shelves with boxes of paper cups, piles of yellow plastic plates, and stacks of styrofoam to-go boxes made the hallway narrow causing Justin to turn sideways to pass through.

Bob stopped in front of a reflective metal door and turned. “You’ll feel like you’ve just been with your girlfriend,” he commented and led Justin through the closed door and into a store room.

Suspended by a wire, a single light source illuminated the center of the room leaving the edges in almost total darkness. In the dim light, Justin saw stacks of cardboard boxes of restaurant supplies pushed up against the walls and shelves holding recognizable cleaning items — bleach bottles, mops, rags.

Justin hesitated but Bob guided him forward. “It’s okay, I promise,” and motioned him to sit on the folding chair placed under the light bulb. Clanging pots and raised Chinese voices barely audible through the closed door.

A man with jet black eyes, matching shoulder-length wavy hair and caramel colored skin stepped from out of the darkness. A five o’clock shadow on his face. In his hands, what looked like a scuffed up forest green motorcycle helmet with the face guard removed.

Justin started to stand up as movie images from Goodfellas raced through his head.

“I will not let anything bad happen, Justin. I like you,” said Bob. “My word is good,” and a pleasant smile remained on his face until Justin lowered himself back into the hard seat.

The man raised the green helmet over Justin’s head but stopped when the college student raised his hand up. “Bob, what is this about, again?”

“It will be fine. It won’t hurt,” the restaurant owner chuckled as he patted the young man’s shoulder.

Justin’s eyes moved to the man holding the helmet. “Is this your friend?”

“This is Sid. He’s from Calcutta. He graduated from Harvard. You can trust him.”

“So, this is some kind of clinical trial then, right?” Justin asked attempting to justify the predicament and put his nerves at ease. Convince himself that his rarely failed instinct about people remained intact.

“Yes, yes. One you’ll love,” replied Bob with a toothy grin.

After a few more moments, Justin let his shoulders drop allowing Sid to glide the helmet over his head. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the chair.

“Justin has a girlfriend he hasn't seen in a long time,” Bob commented to Sid who snapped red, white and yellow wires to the back of the helmet.

“You’ve had some good times with her, I would imagine,” Sid said in a modest Indian accent, not looking at Justin.

“Yeah. She’s back in Kansas. It sucks being so far away.”

Sid grunted in approval. Pounding on the metal door caused Sid to snap his head towards Bob.

“I’ll take care of it,” Bob said and hurried towards the door.

Ninety minutes later, the balding restaurant owner cracked open the store room door and peeked inside. Justin chatted happily as Sid removed the round adhesive patch adhered to his forehead.

“Dude, that was epic,” Justin gushed as he saw Bob enter. “Can I bring a friend next time?”

“Sure, sure,” replied Bob as he escorted Justin out of the room and to the delivery entrance at the back of the restaurant. “But, we must keep this on the down low, understand?”

“Oh, of course. No worries, man,” Justin said as he shook Bob’s hand and walked out into the alley.

“Must have been a success,” Bob commented when he returned to the store room.

“Completely,” replied Sid as he slipped the helmet into a black nylon bag and tightened the cotton drawstrings. “But, I’m going to need more of these.” He held out a small capsule in his hand.

“No problem,” Bob responded.

“Appears we’ve got a deal then,” Sid said as he and Bob sealed their partnership with a handshake.

“How about some Szechwan Shrimp?” Bob offered raising his wiry eyebrows high. Sid smiled.