make this a good day!
Anna Mae and David walked side by side over cracked and littered sidewalks. They passed the row houses with their windows streaked with soot. When they approached Vinko’s Market, David ran ahead into the cluster of pigeons pecking at crumbs on the sidewalk. With a wave of his arms, he sent them fluttering up to the eaves of the three-story building. Avoiding a spatter of droppings on the sidewalk, Anna Mae took David by the hand and led him into the store. A ringing bell, the smell of sawdust and freshly baked bread, greeted them. A young man in a white apron, his arms full of cabbages, stepped out from behind the produce display. His face brightened when he saw Anna Mae.
“Hi, Joey,” she said. “Working hard?”
He placed the cabbages into the bin. “I always work hard, Miss Anna Mae. I bet you and Davie went to church. Sometimes I go to church too.”
Anna Mae smiled. Ever since she was a little girl, Joey Barns had made her feel good by showing a special interest in how she was doing. Anna Mae respected Vinko for employing Joey in spite of his limited intelligence. When Joey’s mother died, Vinko and his wife set Joey up in a small apartment above the store.
Anna Mae picked up a loaf of warm, crusty, Italian bread and laid it on the counter. She then walked down the aisle to the dairy case in the back. Joey followed her, asking her how she was and how was school, and if everyone at home was okay. She never questioned his friendliness. She liked him. He was a nice person. There were times she felt she could confide in Joey, that he was the one person who would not judge her, would not think the blackouts meant she was crazy. However, she only saw him in the store and that certainly was not the place to tell secrets.
Ten minutes later, Vinko placed the bread, a half-gallon of milk, a pound of chipped ham and a dozen eggs into a big brown bag. Anna Mae put her money on the counter. Vinko had already rang it up when David held up a cherry popsicle. Before Anna Mae could protest, Joey handed Vinko fifteen cents.
David beamed. “Thanks, Joey!”
Back outside, the pigeons politely moved aside. David split the Popsicle with Anna Mae then ran ahead of her. She caught up to him. With her Aunt Sarah’s white, embroidered handkerchief, she wiped the sugary red juice from his chin. To the rhythm of his steps and with the Popsicle now dripping sticky red syrup down his arm, David began reciting the names of his personal superstars, The Mercury Seven Astronauts. “Scott, (step) Carpenter, (step) John, (step) Glenn, (step) Gus (step) Grisom…”
In the middle of the block, in front of Jackson’s Pool Hall, a group of teenage boys were gathered around a yellow Chevy convertible. She hoisted the bag of groceries onto her hip and began to cross the street. David didn’t follow. “Come on!”
He sucked the last of the melted Popsicle off the stick. “That’s a cool car. I wanna see it!”
“No!” She went back to the curb and took his hand.
“Ahhh crap!”
“What did you say?”
“Nothin.’”
When they reached the other side of the street, Anna Mae quickened her pace. She tried to ignore the catcalls and whistles aimed in her direction. She had just dragged David across another intersection when the squeal of tires and an explosion of engine power roared up behind them. To David’s delight and Anna Mae’s dismay, the yellow convertible pulled along the curb to a screeching stop. George Siminoski called out, “Want a lift?”
“No!”
“Annnieee!” David pulled his hand from her grip.
George grinned. “The kid wants a lift.”
Anna Mae kept walking. A moment later, rumbling and bumping, the car lurched up and over the curb, the front end blocking their path.
“A pretty thing like you shouldn’t have to carry that heavy bag all the way up the hill.”
David swiped his sticky hand across the shiny, lemon colored fender.
“Hey, kid! Don’t mess up my buggy!”
David
Anna Mae and David walked side by side over cracked and littered sidewalks. They passed the row houses with their windows streaked with soot. When they approached Vinko’s Market, David ran ahead into the cluster of pigeons pecking at crumbs on the sidewalk. With a wave of his arms, he sent them fluttering up to the eaves of the three-story building. Avoiding a spatter of droppings on the sidewalk, Anna Mae took David by the hand and led him into the store. A ringing bell, the smell of sawdust and freshly baked bread, greeted them. A young man in a white apron, his arms full of cabbages, stepped out from behind the produce display. His face brightened when he saw Anna Mae.
“Hi, Joey,” she said. “Working hard?”
He placed the cabbages into the bin. “I always work hard, Miss Anna Mae. I bet you and Davie went to church. Sometimes I go to church too.”
Anna Mae smiled. Ever since she was a little girl, Joey Barns had made her feel good by showing a special interest in how she was doing. Anna Mae respected Vinko for employing Joey in spite of his limited intelligence. When Joey’s mother died, Vinko and his wife set Joey up in a small apartment above the store.
Anna Mae picked up a loaf of warm, crusty, Italian bread and laid it on the counter. She then walked down the aisle to the dairy case in the back. Joey followed her, asking her how she was and how was school, and if everyone at home was okay. She never questioned his friendliness. She liked him. He was a nice person. There were times she felt she could confide in Joey, that he was the one person who would not judge her, would not think the blackouts meant she was crazy. However, she only saw him in the store and that certainly was not the place to tell secrets.
Ten minutes later, Vinko placed the bread, a half-gallon of milk, a pound of chipped ham and a dozen eggs into a big brown bag. Anna Mae put her money on the counter. Vinko had already rang it up when David held up a cherry popsicle. Before Anna Mae could protest, Joey handed Vinko fifteen cents.
David beamed. “Thanks, Joey!”
Back outside, the pigeons politely moved aside. David split the Popsicle with Anna Mae then ran ahead of her. She caught up to him. With her Aunt Sarah’s white, embroidered handkerchief, she wiped the sugary red juice from his chin. To the rhythm of his steps and with the Popsicle now dripping sticky red syrup down his arm, David began reciting the names of his personal superstars, The Mercury Seven Astronauts. “Scott, (step) Carpenter, (step) John, (step) Glenn, (step) Gus (step) Grisom…”
In the middle of the block, in front of Jackson’s Pool Hall, a group of teenage boys were gathered around a yellow Chevy convertible. She hoisted the bag of groceries onto her hip and began to cross the street. David didn’t follow. “Come on!”
He sucked the last of the melted Popsicle off the stick. “That’s a cool car. I wanna see it!”
“No!” She went back to the curb and took his hand.
“Ahhh crap!”
“What did you say?”
“Nothin.’”
When they reached the other side of the street, Anna Mae quickened her pace. She tried to ignore the catcalls and whistles aimed in her direction. She had just dragged David across another intersection when the squeal of tires and an explosion of engine power roared up behind them. To David’s delight and Anna Mae’s dismay, the yellow convertible pulled along the curb to a screeching stop. George Siminoski called out, “Want a lift?”
“No!”
“Annnieee!” David pulled his hand from her grip.
George grinned. “The kid wants a lift.”
Anna Mae kept walking. A moment later, rumbling and bumping, the car lurched up and over the curb, the front end blocking their path.
“A pretty thing like you shouldn’t have to carry that heavy bag all the way up the hill.”
David swiped his sticky hand across the shiny, lemon colored fender.
“Hey, kid! Don’t mess up my buggy!”
David
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