She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,9

to go to college and become an astronaut or maybe a reporter for the Daily Planet,” I said.

“Or maybe a reporter in space? I imagine we need those, too,” Krendal said. “Pick out a seat, I’ll put something together for you.”

Auntie Jo nodded toward the row of stools lining the counter, but I went to a booth instead, a small booth built for two people in the far corner near the bathrooms. Over the coming weeks, this became my booth. Mr. Krendal made a small paper sign that read RESERVED FOR JACK THATCH – ASTRONAUT REPORTER in large block letters and placed it out there every day before Auntie Jo’s shift, knowing I’d probably be in, too.

Today, when he asked me what I wanted for dinner, I told him I’d like an All-American Slam like they have at Denny’s, along with a chocolate shake. He brought me a chicken sandwich on rye bread with a side order of french fries and a glass of water.

“This is a Krendal’s All-American Slam. It may vary slightly from the competition’s meal of the same name,” Mr. Krendal said. “When the kind people at Denny’s stole the name from my menu, they did not take the time to read the description. I had a similar problem with the people from McDonald’s. For nearly a year, I told them a Big Mac was supposed to be a bowl of pasta and cheese with bacon on top, but they completely ignored me. In my day, corporate theft of ideas meant something. People take no pride in their thievery anymore.”

Krendal ruffled my hair and went back to the kitchen, leaving me to eat. I always asked for a chocolate shake. He never gave me one. He insisted people were not meant to ingest all that sugar, and water was better for me, particularly my teeth. At fifty-eight years old, he had no cavities. He was also quick to point out he’d never drank chocolate shakes.

I made quick work of the chicken sandwich and fries. The meal was delicious.

Auntie Jo fluttered around the diner as I ate. She smiled, too. I watched as she put on her best smile whenever she faced a customer. I also saw that same smile drop away the minute she turned her back on them. She didn’t much want to be here.

I was about to pack up and go back to our apartment when she dropped four dollars on the corner of my table. “I turned three tables just to get enough for some cigs. Tips are horrible today. This better turn around fast. Can you be a dear and run next door and get me two packs of Red 100s? You can keep the change.”

I wanted to say no. Auntie Jo smoked too much. This morning, she coughed for nearly five minutes straight before she even got out of bed.

If I didn’t go, she’d just buy them on her break, then she’d blame me for any lost tips while she was gone.

Snatching up the money, I started for the door. “Be right back.”

3

The sky churned with gray clouds tipped in white, and the air felt damp. It hadn’t rained yet today, but I’d be willing to bet that it would. In November in Pittsburgh, that was a pretty safe bet, not one a local would take the other side of, that’s for sure. Considering it was nearly noon, the sun should be high in the sky. Instead, I think it departed for Florida, leaving nothing but a dim bulb as replacement.

The Corner Mart grocery sat two doors down from Krendal’s on the same side of the street, so I didn’t have to cross traffic. The store took up the first floor of a wedge-shaped building, narrow at the front and widening further back, no doubt built to accommodate the odd angle of the street which had been built in such a way to accommodate the odd angle of the large hill upon which our entire block sat. Pittsburgh was not known for sprawling flatlands, only odd angles. Even the floors of our apartment dropped off at enough of an incline to propel my Matchbox cars from one end of the kitchen to the other without any help from me.

The door to the grocery triggered an electronic chime before swinging shut behind me. Although the front of the store had two large windows beside the door, every available inch of glass was covered with posters, signs, and advertisements for various items—everything from milk