by Bill H Myers
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was a short walk to Raif's and Erin didn't seem to be in a hurry to get there. She stopped several times to look at the stars or maybe to regain her balance. It was clear the wine had an effect on her.
As we walked by Waldo's trailer, I noticed the lights were still out and there was no car in the driveway. It didn't look like anyone was home.
Maybe he, too, was out celebrating. His purchase of the taco truck would have given him reason to. But maybe, instead of celebrating, he was hiding from the two beefy guys who had come looking for him.
Erin stopped in front of his trailer and slurred out the word, “Bastūn!”
I didn't know much Irish slang, but I was pretty sure “bastūn” wasn't a compliment. Still standing and pointing at his trailer, she leaned into me and whispered, “He owes me money. Will you help me collect?”
I nodded. “I will, I'll help you find Waldo and get your money.”
She stumbled into me, put both hands on my chest and said, “I like you, Walker. Do you like me?”
I almost laughed at the question. I'd heard variations of it before, mostly from women who’d had too much to drink. I suspected that tears would soon follow.
With my arm around her shoulder, we started walking again. Surprisingly, we made it to Raif's trailer without any trouble.
He was outside on his deck sitting in the same chair he had been sitting in earlier. When he saw how Erin was wobbling, he came down off the deck to help me get her to the door. Just as he got close, she puckered her lips and leaned over to kiss me. In doing so, she lost her balance and had Raif not been there to catch her, she would have fallen flat on her face.
He shook his head, turned to me and said, “I'm going to put her to bed. Wait out here until I get back.”
He led her up the stairs and to his front door. On the way I heard her whisper, “I like him. Please don't hurt this one.”
I didn't hear his reply, but I was hopeful that after I told him nothing had happened between us, he wouldn't be too upset.
A few minutes later, he came back out, grinning ear to ear. He looked at me, shook his head and said, “You got her drunk. Then you brought her here. What were you thinking?”
He sat in the chair he'd been in earlier, pointed to the one beside it and said, “Have a seat. Let's talk.”
Even though I probably wasn't sober enough to drive, I was sober enough to talk. I sat down beside Raif and said, “It's a nice evening. Feels good to be outside.”
I was trying to get the conversation off to a good start. Talking about the weather usually did the trick. But not this time. Raif had other things on his mind.
He turned to me and said, “Two things you'll want to know about that woman.
“The first is if you make her mad, you'll get to see her Irish temper. You'll hear words you've never heard before and never expected to come out of that girl's mouth. Best case, never make her mad. And if you do, don't argue and don't run. Just stand and take it like a man.
“The second thing is, if you let her, she'll break your heart. It's easy to fall for her, easy to think you're in love. But not so easy if you find out she doesn't feel the same way.
“I'm not saying that's the way it'll go with you two, but it might, so be careful.”
I nodded and said, “Nothing happened between us. Back at my place all we did was eat dinner and talk. Nothing else.”
He reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. “Son, you think I'm blind? She's drunk as a skunk. So you did more than just talk. But I'm not blaming you. In fact, I probably ought to thank you.
“She was going to celebrate tonight with someone, and I'm just glad it was with you instead of a stranger who might have taken advantage of her. That's why I set you two up.
“When I learned you were looking for Waldo, the same as she was, and that you were staying just two doors down from me, I figured you were the safest person to be with her while she celebrated. So when we were at the taco truck, I put my plan in motion. I told her you wanted to take her to dinner but were too shy to ask such a pretty girl.
“I knew she was looking for someone to celebrate with and you were the perfect choice. Someone I could keep my eyes on.
“So yeah, you got her drunk. I don't begrudge you for that. She probably needed to get drunk. It's been three years since she didn't have to worry about getting up early the next day. Letting off a little steam will be good for her.
“But like I said, be careful. She'll break your heart.”
He changed the subject. “Did you two talk about Waldo?”
I shook my head. “No, it never came up. I didn't even know she was looking for him until we walked by his trailer. She called him a word I'd never heard before. A bastūn.”
Raif smiled. “Yeah, she doesn't think much of him.”
“Didn't he buy her truck?”
Raif took a deep breath and said, “Ask her. When she's sober, she'll tell you all about it.”
He was right. She would.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The next morning, Erin showed up at my door just after eight. She was all smiles and said, “Come on, let's go get breakfast. I'm starving.”
Either she didn't have a hangover or she was hiding it pretty well. I wasn't. I had a pounding headache and my eyes hurt. But I wasn't going to tell her. Instead, I said, “We can eat here. I've got eggs and juice in the fridge.”
She wasn't having it. “I want pancakes and I don't want to wait for you to make them. So let's go. You're driving.”
I still had Raif's keys from the night before and he'd said I could use his car as long as I brought it back with a full tank of gas. I grabbed the keys and my wallet and headed for the door.
Ten minutes later, we were pulling into a McDonald's parking lot. It was Erin's decision. She had said they had the best pancakes and we wouldn't have to wait long to get them. She was right, at least on the second count. We were at a table eating hotcakes covered in syrup four minutes after placing our order.
Erin went through her first three quickly and went back for more. I passed on the second helping. Three pancakes from McDonald's were enough for me. She had ordered orange juice and I had gotten a medium Coke, hoping the caffeine would help with my headache.
It didn't.
It was still pounding when Erin came back to the table. She offered to share her pancakes with me, but I declined. I wasn't sure my stomach could handle the extra food so I sat there and watched as she ate.
In my eyes, she was a beautiful woman. Dark red hair, blue eyes, fair skin. Medium build, and almost giddy about not having to go into the back of the taco truck. It was nice to be around her when she was happy and her smiling face was helping me feel better. Or maybe it was the Coke.
I wanted to hear more of her voice, so I asked, “Yesterday, you said there was no Tina. So why is the place called Tina's Taco Palace?”
She looked up from her food, her eyes twinkling. “A guy named Tony was the original owner. He bought the truck and outfitted it for food prep. His plan was to park it near his buddy's bar and sell pizza and calzones.
“He was a large man. His street name was Fat Tony. Everybody in the neighborhood knew him and he thought that calling the truck 'Fat Tony's' would bring in customers.
“But it didn't. Only those that knew him were brave enough to venture into the neighborhood where he parked the truck. And tourists weren't very interested in eating at a place with 'fat' in the name.
“Tony decided a name change was in order, so he changed it to 'Tony's Place.' He figured it was a good name for an Italian pizza truck.
“The name change helped a little, but he didn't get many repeat customers. The problem was the food. It was greasy, took time to prepare, and hard to eat without making a mess.
“Eventually Fat Tony got tired of trying to make a profit and sold the truck to Miguel, who was looking to get into the business. Tony had two conditions. Miguel had to move the truck
to a new neighborhood, far from where it had been parked. And he couldn't use Fat Tony in the name.
“Miguel had already decided to move the truck. A friend of his owned the auto parts store and said he could park the truck there.
“Miguel wanted to sell the kind of food he was familiar with. Street tacos and burritos. And he wanted the name to reflect those offerings.
“So he contacted a friend and asked him to paint a sign for the truck with the words 'Tony's Taco Place' on it. And to make sure the sign had the right name, Miguel wrote it on a napkin and gave it to his friend. They agreed on a price, and the sign was painted.
“But when the friend showed up with it, there was a problem. He had made a mistake. He had misread Miguel's handwriting and ended up painting 'Tina's Taco Palace', instead of 'Tony's Taco Place'.
But Miguel wasn't upset. He actually liked the new name. He thought calling the truck a palace made it sound classy. And using a woman's name, Tina, made it even more appealing.
“So there never was a Tina. It was just a misunderstanding between Miguel and the painter.
“Not long after he had the sign mounted and opened the truck for business, customers started coming. And they kept coming back. The food was good, the price was fair, and people liked the tacos.
“It wasn't long before the truck was quite profitable. It was hard work, but Miguel didn't mind. He was proud he owned a successful business. It was the American Dream.
“If he hadn't had to leave the country, he'd probably still be running it.
“When I bought it, I didn't see any reason to change the name. The place was well known as Tina's and had a good reputation. The person I sold it to isn't planning on changing the name either. It'll still be Tina's Taco Palace but with someone else making the food instead of me.”
She smiled when she finished the story. It was clear she was happy to be eating hotcakes at McDonald's and not thinking about having to make tacos the rest of the day.
Since she was in a talkative mood, I asked about the new owner. I was expecting to hear how Waldo had bought the business from her and why she thought he still owed her money.
But I was wrong. What she told me changed the way I thought of her. And Waldo.
Chapter Twenty-Six
We were still at McDonald's. Sitting in a booth near the front of the store. The morning rush was over, and there were only a few customers left inside.
Since we weren't keeping others from finding a place to sit, we stayed a bit longer. Erin had finished her pancakes and seemed to be in a good mood. The pancakes and extra syrup had energized her.
I figured it was a good time to ask the question both of us knew was coming. I started by saying, “Waldo? So he bought the Taco Palace from you?”
She shook her head and frowned. “No, he didn't. He said he would, even showed me the money, but then, on the day we were supposed to sign the papers, he was a no show. He sent me a text that said, ‘Sorry, I've changed my mind.’
“I never planned to sell the business in the first place. I was working the lunch shift, and this guy shows up and says he wants to buy the taco truck. I told him it wasn't for sale, but he said, ‘Everything is for sale. Just tell me your price.’
“Up until that moment, I had no thoughts of selling. I was making decent money with the truck, and other than the fact that I had no social life and was working too many hours, I was happy.
“But when Waldo challenged me to come up with a price, I decided it would be nice to have my freedom back, if I could get what the truck was worth to me.
“When he wouldn't take no for an answer and wouldn't leave, I gave in. I calculated what my net profit would be for the next twenty-four months, added fifteen thousand to that, and gave him the number.
“I expected him to walk away. He could have bought a new truck and outfitted it for what I was asking. But maybe he didn't know that. Or maybe he didn't care. Whatever the reason, he didn't even try to negotiate a lower price. He just stuck out his hand and said, ‘I'll take it.’
“He went to his car, a crusty old Celica, and came back with a black bag. It was filled with cash, mostly hundred-dollar bills. He said they could all be mine. All I needed to do was to get the title and occupancy license transferred into his name and he'd pay me what I was asking.
“It sounded too good to be true. When I woke up that morning, I hadn't planned to sell the truck. But by the end of the day, it looked like I was going to get paid more than I thought it was worth, in cash.
“Waldo only had one condition for the sale. He wanted me to work in the truck with him for two days, to show him the ropes. He needed to know how everything worked.
“It was a reasonable request and I agreed. He told me he was new in town and asked if I knew a place he might be able to rent for a month or two. I should have kept my mouth shut, but I didn't. I told him about Shady Haven.
“The next morning, he showed up right on time and seemed eager to work. I showed him everything. How to order fresh ingredients and who to order from. How to prep for the day's sales. How to run the register and how to keep things clean. At the end of the day, I showed him how to close down for the evening and where to hide the lock box with the daily cash proceeds.
“He stayed in the truck with me most of the day, only taking bathroom breaks and time out to eat. There didn't seem to be a problem and he acted like he enjoyed the work. We had a big crowd that day, so he stayed busy.
“The next morning, he showed up an hour late. He didn't seem nearly as eager to work as he had the day before. I figured that maybe being on his feet selling tacos for ten hours that first day had worn him out. I know that the first few days after I took over the truck, it wore me out too.
“So anyway, he worked with me most of that day, and when we closed for the night, he told me to have the papers ready the next day and we'd do the deal in the morning.
“I went to Uncle Raif's place that night, and when I told him I was selling the taco truck, he was surprised but happy for me. He knew I was putting in long hours, and maybe I needed a break.
“That evening, when we went for a walk, I noticed Waldo's car was parked in the driveway next to Raif's. The lights were on in the trailer, and we could hear someone moving around inside. We didn't stop then, but on our way back, Waldo was sitting out on his deck.
“I introduced him to Raif and they made small talk for a few minutes. No mention of the food truck deal from either one of them. Just complaints about the weather and the traffic.
“Later on that evening, Raif cautioned me. He said I shouldn't rush into the deal until I found out more about Waldo and how he got the bag of cash he had shown me. I didn't listen. I was thinking about how nice it would be not to spend most of my day slinging tacos.
“The next morning, I dug out the title and the Florida Dispensary license, and headed to Tina's one last time. Or at least that's what I thought.
“Waldo wasn't there when I arrived. But he, or someone else, had been in the truck. The proceeds from the previous day's sales were gone. Someone had discovered where I hid the lock box and cleaned it out.
“I was worried that when Waldo showed up and learned that the truck had been robbed, he would back out of the deal.
“As it turned out, I shouldn't have worried. Waldo never showed up that day. Or any day since.”
She paused and pointed to the drink counter. “You mind getting me a Coke? I think I need the caffeine.”
I didn't mind. In fact, another Coke sounded good to me as well.
I went to the counter, ordered two medium Cokes, and brought them back to the table where Erin and I had been sitting. But she wasn't there. She was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I still had the car keys in my pocket and was pretty sure Erin hadn't left without me. If she had, she was on foot. It would be a long walk back to Shady Haven.
Most likely, she had gone to the ladies room and all I needed to do was to wait for her return. Five
minutes later, she was back. Big smile on her face when she saw me. “You didn't think I bailed on you, did ya?”
“No, that thought never crossed my mind. What about you? Did you think you might come back to the table and I’d be gone?”
She shook her head and her eyes flashed a warning. “If you ever leave without letting me know, you'll regret it. When I catch up to you, I'll make you pay.”
She didn't sound like she was joking. In fact, it sounded like a warning to never cross her; something I wasn't planning to do.
After she sat and took a sip of her Coke, I asked, “So if Waldo didn't buy your truck, and you were celebrating last night because it was sold, who did? Who bought it?”
She smiled. “Funny story. Somehow word got around that I might be interested in selling Tina's. One of the people who heard about it was the owner of Benito's Burritos. They have a place on A1A and do a lot of business there.
“Anyway, the day after Waldo bailed on me, Benito visited and offered to buy Tina's. He said he was looking to expand, and having a taco truck would be a good fit. He already had people who could work it and he'd rather own it than have it as his competition.
“He didn't know the amount Waldo and I had agreed on. So I added ten thousand and told him that was the price.
“I was surprised when he said, ‘That'll work for me.’
With him, it was an easy transfer. He was already in the business and had a staff that I didn't need to train. His people already knew how to make burritos, tacos, and a lot more. And he already had suppliers lined up that he would need to keep the truck operating.
“There was no drama. He paid me and we closed the deal yesterday morning.”
“And you're happy? About no longer owning your own business?”
She shook her head. “I don't know whether I'm happy about it or not. I'll miss my regular customers and I'll miss seeing money in the box at the end of the day. But when I deposited Benito's check, my bank account sure was happy.”
She took a deep breath and said, “Now all I need to do is find Waldo and get the money he took from me. It had to be him. No one else knew I had a cash box or where it was hidden. It had a little over a thousand dollars in it, and he took it.”
