Between the Lanterns

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Between the Lanterns Page 2

by Bush, J. M.


  He had to find this woman. But August didn’t know how. So for now, he walked down West Main Street every day hoping to see her again. As he walked down the road, avoiding the automated sidewalks, of course, his cellphone buzzed in his pocket. It was an automated message from Shop.Montek.Com.

  Don’t forget that today is the First Annual National Nutricator Day! We ask that you celebrate by supporting a local restaurant instead of using your Nutricator. While we appreciate your continued patronage of our wonderful products, we also want to help support local businesses like restaurants and hard-working farmers. To show our support, we’ve attached random amounts of Credit to each message sent out! Some will have enough to feed a family of ten and some only sufficient for a cup of coffee or a slice of pie! The only way to find out is to head to a local eatery, and check in! When you do, you’ll receive Credit into your account earmarked only to be used at the restaurant where you checked in! Hurry up, though, as this offer is only good for today! HAPPY NATIONAL NUTRICATOR DAY!!!!

  August shrugged his shoulders and decided that, although this was just some stupid marketing holiday, free food was free food. And this was REAL food. He opened an app called RFF, Real Food Finder, and searched for the closest non-Nutricator restaurant. The results showed a diner, a pub, and a Chinese food restaurant.

  The first was Cheryl’s Diner, described as home-style cooking like your Great Great Grandmother used to make. The second was Big Guy’s Pub, touting the best real burgers and beers in town. A beer did sound nice right now. The third was Xiao Li’s Kitchen and, apparently, was the only place in Alabama to get authentic Shanghainese food.

  Well, Chinese food never sat very well with August for some reason. Probably because his diet mostly consisted mostly of fake, cheap, Nutricator -made garbage, and Chinese food is so full of spices and sauces that it just upset the peaceful balance in his gut.

  So it was really down to the pub or the diner. The pub had beer, which was a real draw for August. He hadn’t had a real beer since his 21st birthday three years ago. The Nutricator beer served in most bars tasted like cardboard and only had an alcohol percentage of 2.1%. It wasn’t even worth the Credit, honestly. So a real beer sounded just plain amazing. The diner, though, well… it had chocolate pie.

  Chapter 2

  CHOCOLATE PIE

  Chocolate pie. Just like his granny used to make for August when he was young. His parents may have been too hard on him and never supported any of his dreams or hobbies, but his granny had always nurtured in August the desire to work with his hands. She used to break her remote control for the TV so that August could fix it.

  While he worked, she would make meat loaf, green beans, and home-made biscuits for lunch. Afterward, she always had a slice of chocolate pie for him. August missed his granny a lot. She had died ten years before very suddenly when she had come down with the new cancer.

  About thirty years ago, Montek.Pharm had cured all cancer. A single pill of their cure could eradicate cancer of any kind from anyone on Earth. And they had given the cure out for free. Montek didn’t need the Credit, and so they used this as a marketing ploy. Give away the cure for cancer, and people will be loyal to you forever. It worked.

  Years later, though, a new cancer started showing up in people of all ages, races, and tax brackets. No one could figure out where it came from or how to cure it. Montek’s cure didn’t even work. They tried over and over again to find a way to stop this cancer, but they just couldn’t.

  The good news was that it only affected about 1one in every 10,000 people at first. It was also not a painful way to die, as were the cancers of the past. It was the strangest disease ever to affect the human race. Basically, it was a timer set for death. Once diagnosed, the doctors could track it via the proteins in your blood the cancer attacked. You felt no pain at all. You could go on living your life just like normal, except for becoming a little bit forgetful. But once you contracted this cancer, you had an expiration date, and they could tell you the exact day you would die. For that reason, the disease came to be known as The Countdown.

  When August’s gGranny became sick, the doctor did all the tests and told her it was the new cancer. Once her Countdown had begun, the dDoc said it would be 27 days before her death. Exactly 27 days.

  She never told August about it. He came and visited her several times over those last 27 days. He was older now, so she didn’t break her remote control anymore. He would just come over and sit with Granny. They would talk for hours about her life, his dreams, or what he was building and fixing up. Granny would always tell him how proud she was of him. His parents never once said to August that they were proud of him for anything. Granny told him every time they were together.

  On day 27 she fixed him meat loaf, green beans, home-made biscuits, and of course… chocolate pie. After lunch, she hugged August tight and held it for an unusually long time.

  “Granny, are you ok?” he asked. “What’s the matter?”

  “Not a thing, youngin. Not a thing,” she lied to her grandson. “I just love you ever so much. Have I told you how proud I am of the man you’ve become?”

  “Yes, ma’am. You tell me all the time,” he said. “Though, I’m not sure what you’re proud of me for doin’. I ain’t never done anythin’. I ain’t never even kissed a girl, Granny. I’m just a dud.”

  “Don’t you dare ever say that about yourself again, you hear?” Granny scolded him. “You’re a good man. You have a warm heart, a carin’ soul, and you can do things with your mind and hands that most people couldn’t ever dream of. You got more talent in your pinky than the entire Wiregrass area combined,” she told him point-blank, and with a wagging finger for emphasis.

  She went on to say, “One day you’ll meet the right girl and y’all will be happier than anyone else ever has been. Listen to your granny, now. She knows everythin’.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” August said respectfully. “Can I do anythin’ around here before I head back home? Anythin’ need fixin’?”

  Granny smiled at August and started to cry. He had never once seen this strong, old woman cry. She wasn’t unemotional; she was just tough as nails and only cried behind closed doors.

  “Granny, really now,” August said, worried to death, “what’s the matter? Tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Would that you could, August dear,” Granny said sadly. “Would that you could. Now gimme a kiss, tell me you love me, and go live your life. You can’t waste it all here with an old woman.”

  “Granny, I do love you,” August said, planting a kiss on her wrinkled forehead. “Thanks for lunch. It was amazin’ as usual. And, by the way, I’d be happy to stay here with you forever, rather than head back out there with all those rude, heartless, sheep.”

  August leaned down and kissed his granny again, then walked out the door. The next time he saw her it was at her funeral two days later. He still felt heartbroken when he thought about it. Why hadn’t she just told him?

  Looking down at his cellphone displaying the description of the diner, and seeing Cheryl’s Famous Chocolate Pie on the menu, August’s eyes welled with tears. He closed the app and headed down the road to Cheryl’s Diner.

  As he entered the little restaurant, he noticed there was seating for only around twenty people or so, and all the tables were full. Except for one. At one table sat an elderly man sipping on a cup of coffee and eating chocolate pie. It was a sign from his granny:; he was sure of it.

  “Excuse me, sir, would you mind very much if I sat with you and ate?” August asked the kindly-looking older man. “All the other tables are full up, and I’m gettin’ pretty hungry.”

  The old gentleman looked up, still smiling from the kindness of the lovely young lady who had given him the pie, and said, “Well, one kind turn deserves another, as they used to say. Yes, sir, young man. Have a seat right there. And you have to try this pie, it is divine.”

  August grinned from ear to ear, stuck out his hand, and s
aid, “Sir, I fully intend on it, I can promise you that. My name is August,. H how do you do?”

  “Nice to meet you, August. My name is John, and I’m on cloud nine right now with this excellent coffee and delicious pie,” the old fellow replied.

  August thought that this old guy was just about the nicest person he had met in quite a while. To be honest, most people nowadays would have told August to get lost. The South used to be famous for good manners and warm welcomes, and people still acted a little bit kindly, but not as much as when August was a boy. And according to the stories Granny had told him, the people in today’s world were right down cold and mean compared to the old days in Alabama.

  As he looked at the menu, August’s day got even better. The smile that spread across his face was infectious, and John couldn’t help but make his smile bigger just to match.

  “What’s got you grinnin’ like that, August?” John said warmly. “Find something other than pie on that there menu that sounds good?”

  “Oh, John, I hope you don’t think less of me if I cry while I eat. I’m about to order some meat loaf, green beans, home-made biscuits, and follow it all up with some chocolate pie. Just like my granny used to make me,” August explained.

  John put his fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. No longer smiling, but instead looking at August with affection in his wise, old eyes, he said, “August, that’s probably the most incredible thing I’ve heard in years. If you cry when you eat, boy, I’m joinin’ you. I came in here today because my ex-wife used to own this place. We divorced long before she started it, but when we were together, her cookin’ was the best in town. When we separated, I moved down to Columbus, Georgia to work at Montek.Drive to build those AutoCars. I only just found out two days ago that she passed away from The Countdown a few years back. I never even knew, August. So, even though I got no Credit, I wanted to come down and see this place. I always meant to come down here and make good with her, you know? Well, the good Lord had other plans, I guess.”

  “John, I’m so sorry,” August said with kindness. “My granny also passed from The Countdown. It’s a damn shame. Pardon my language.”

  “Hell no, August. You’re right. It is a damn shame. Anyway, I didn’t have any Credit to eat here until I got that message from Montek about this National Nutri-whatever Day. I only wanted some coffee and some of Cheryl’s chocolate pie. It was always my favorite. Only, once I checked in with my SmartChip, I found out that I only got enough for a cup of coffee. The pretty lady who works here gave me the pie for free out of the kindness in her heart like I ain’t seen in years.”

  “Well, John, that was real sweet of her,” August told his new friend. “I’ll tell you what; let me check in and see how much they gave me and if it’s enough, we can eat our fill of whatever we want. How’s that sound to you?”

  John smiled even bigger than before, if that was possible. This was turning out to be the best day he had seen since before Cheryl left him.

  “You know, August, I’d be ever so grateful for that,” John said. “What say we take a look at your Montek Gift Credit?”

  August grinned right back at John and opened his cellphone to check in. Almost immediately after checking in, he got a message from Montek.Credit and opened it. It was only enough for one cup of coffee.

  “We’re in luck, John,” August lied, closing his phone quickly. “I hit the mother-load. Order whatever you want, sir. It’s on Montek today.”

  August could not really afford this, but there was no way he was going to let this kind old man down. He had enough saved up to buy himself a new workbench, but August would rather continue using his old, rickety workbench that he had fixed up on his own than deny John a big, wonderful meal.

  Chapter 3

  SPARKS FLY

  Samantha came out of the kitchen with both arms full of plates. Earlier she had overheard one of the customers talking about National Nutricator Day, and the Credit that Montek was giving away for real food. Well, she might hate them and their stupid machines, but at least they were doing a good thing today. Even if it was just to lure more dummies into buying their useless garbage.

  She handed out all the plates and chatted with a few customers. Most of them were not very talkative – nothing new there. People weren’t friendly like they used to be, or so she had heard from Cheryl when Samantha first started at the diner. That wonderful woman had always told of how things were in the old days in New Dothan.

  Cheryl had once said that running a diner was the best decision she ever made. Talking with the customers all day every day, making them smile with her meat loaf and chocolate pie, and being her own boss made Cheryl as happy as she had ever been. She told Samantha that her only regret was leaving her husband. Sure, he wasn’t the most thoughtful man in the world, and he had messed up pretty bad, but Cheryl had loved him still, all the way until the end. She had regretted living a large chunk of her life without her husband, John.

  These customers today, though, weren’t there to chat; they were just there for free food, which they ate way too fast to enjoy the quality of, anyway. These people are used to Nutricator food, which has barely any taste. So there is really no enjoyment in eating it. With the fantastic, home-made real food sold in the diner, you need to chew slowly and enjoy every last bite. It’s uncouth not to do so.

  Samantha glanced over to check on the kind-hearted old man she had given the pie to, just in case he needed a refill on his coffee. “Unlimited refills on coffee,” was the law in Cheryl’s Diner. Most places in town charged by the cup and that was for Nutricator coffee, which Samantha thought tasted like stewed sock juice.

  As she looked over at his table, she saw someone was now sitting with the old man. A face she recognized, but couldn’t quite place. He was a handsome man, and she remembered seeing him somewhere…

  “Between the lanterns!” she suddenly exclaimed.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” A woman in a nicely cut business suit said. She had frown lines and was wearing a pair of those new SmartGlasses of which Montek was currently so proud.

  “Oh, sorry, ma’am,” Samantha apologized, then explained, “I was just thinking out loud. Can I get you need anything else?”

  “No,” the woman curtly replied, as most people tended to do nowadays. “I’ve used all the free Credit Montek gave me. It was good, but I think I prefer my Nutricator’s cooking.”

  Samantha had to stop herself from answering the woman rudely. It would be unprofessional to tell this lady her taste buds were broken if she liked that Nutri-trash food more than the real thing.

  “Well, sweets, different strokes for different folks, as they used to say,” Samantha answered with a fake smile.

  Over at the table with the handsome man and the older gentleman, they were having a nice conversation.

  Samantha sidled up, and politely interjected, “Why hello, sweets;, fancy seeing you here. I thought we had a standing date between the lanterns. Where have you been?”

  August’s next word caught in his throat as he recognized that voice. He slowly turned his head and saw the beautiful Asian woman from the blackout. He could not believe his eyes or his luck. Granny’s spirit had definitely directed him to this restaurant today. She was always meddling in his love life, even in the afterlife, it seemed.

  “Uh, hi. Hi there. Long time no see, ma’am,” Augusts answered.

  John looked at the two attractive young people and smirked knowingly, saying, “Well, how about that?. Y’all know each other?”

  August spluttered a little trying to find a way to answer that wouldn’t embarrass him in front of this angelic woman.

  Samantha beat him to it, saying, “No, sir, not really. This very kind gentleman saved me from the dark a few weeks ago when the lights went out in New Dothan for just a minute. He was as brave and gallant as a medieval knight. Weren’t you, sweets?”

  August’s dark cheeks barely showed it, but he blushed hard and said, “Well, I wouldn’t say that, ma’a
m. I did what anyone would have done under the circumstances. I just tried to offer some comfort and let you know everythin’ would be alright. Heck, I didn’t even know you were a woman when the lights went out. I was just trying to be friendly.”

  John shook his head and closed his eyes, then leaned in close to mockingly whisper, “Son, never tell a beautiful lady that you didn’t know they was a woman. It don’t really sit right with them; you catch my meanin’?”

  August’s face somehow grew darker.

  “Oh it’s alright,” Samantha said, trying to make August feel more comfortable. “I didn’t know I was a woman in the dark either… August, is it?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is, and this here is John,” he said, motioning to the older man. “We are just about to order a feast to celebrate two important women in our lives:; my granny and his wife. My treat. Ain’t that right, John?”

  John nodded in acknowledgment, understanding that August might just be trying to impress this lady.

  Samantha looked at the state of August’s work clothes, and tried real hard not to be judgmental, but being poor herself, she recognized the signs.

  Before she could say anything, old John chimed in, saying, “I hope you mean Montek’s treat, young man. I don’t want you going even more broke on my account. I’ve had my pie and my coffee. I’m alright.”

  “No, of course, I meant Montek’s treat, John,” August lied. “A slip of the tongue is all. I got a lot of Credit from them today for this weird holiday, you see, ma’am.”

  August smiled at the gorgeous woman that he somehow felt already madly in love with, and finally learned her name by reading her name tag.

  “Sam,” he said sweetly, “would you be so kind as to bring us two plates of meat loaf, two orders of green beans, and four home-made biscuits. After all that is gone, I’m havin’ some chocolate pie. And maybe John will have another?”

 

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