IX
718 Words
IXCHAZ AND I FELL INTO each other's arms and just held on to each other until the storm passed.
About then, Uncle Jean opened the van door and came up the steps. Somehow dry as a bone. "Well, I see you two love-birds don't need any help with gang-bangers." He was all smiles.
A patrol car came up with lights flashing. An officer in dripping rain gear came in behind Jean. "Is everything OK, anyone hurt?" Both Chaz and I shook our heads "no" and smiled. The officer smiled back. We could hear him shout to someone to “get those plates run”, and saw a police tow truck enter and back up into position behind one of the gang-banger's cars.
The crowd came back from the fences and up to the van see how we were doing. They hadn't gotten wet at all, for some reason. But were very glad that we were all OK.
Soon, after they helped us get the tables and chairs back, along with the awning rolled back down and everything cleaned up, they were all in line again. And then we were back at serving hungry customers like always.
- - - -
A FEW DAYS LATER, JEAN came back with some guy wearing a lab coat. He shook all our hands and thanked us over and over for all our help. Apparently this was the guy who had contracted with the company that recruited Jean and us. The quarantine had been lifted, and he was bringing back in his own cafeteria cooks and serving staff again.
About then a patrol car came by (they had been making regular rounds to visit us daily since the 'banger incident) but today it was the Police Chief himself who wanted to inspect the scene. Somehow, he didn't know why, but there had been a remarkable drop in crime in this area. People were taking care of little incidents on their own, while various known and notorious gang-bangers had either turned themselves in or been escorted by "friends or family members" into the local station house.
Our little food cart was ground zero for a circle that went out for blocks. They didn't even have to give out traffic or parking tickets. And so their extra officers were being reassigned to other precincts. He just came by to tell us all that, and thank us for being there.
Chaz and I were busy serving customers and didn't catch the exact conversation, especially when they moved their talking out of the van. (But I kept an eye on their gestures and asked Jean later about the details.)
Jean thanked both the lab coat guy and the police chief, and told them the sad news that we were moving on that night. But he had heard of several restaurants that had opened up in the last week, and more were in the plans. It seems that they “happened to come by" our little hospice parking lot and saw the long lines that stretched out of it and down the sidewalk.
And Jean pointed right across the street from us to one that had just opened up with big blue awnings. They had a walk-up window for only burgers and cheese combinations, just like ours. And they already had a long line. Then we saw Jean point down the block where a fast-food place with a drive-through was being renovated.
Both of those gentlemen shook Jean's hand again. And thanked him over and over.
The last of our line didn't take long to serve, and we had cleaned up and put away everything just as the clearing clouds were beginning to tinge red.
Jean did a final check of the truck while Chaz and I took our last full trash bag liner out to the roll-off bin by the gate. Hand in hand as we came back, smiling and relieved.
Jean was waiting for us with both damp and dry towels to clean up with, plus a couple of iced coffees.
Following him into the van, Chaz and I settled into the cozy bench seat and belted in. The truck started smoothly and Jean slowly rolled us out of that lot. Soon we were back on the interstate.
Darkness had fallen by then, and I snuggled up next to Chaz. He'd kept one of the bedrolls out, and covered us with it. The last thing I remembered was his kissing my head.
- Writer
