Between the Lanterns (2 page)

“Why in Heaven’s name would you want a stupid old Nutricator, Tara?” Samantha asked, truly disgusted. “That ain’t food. That is just glued- together by-products. It’s sick, is what it is, sweets.”

“Oh hush, Sam,” Tara replied. “Not everyone loves to spend hours making dinner every night. Hell, I work in a diner:, the last thing I want to do when I get home is cook more damn food. Anyway, take this pie over to table 10, please and thank you.”

She could not understand why a woman like Tara, who could cook every bit as well as Samantha, would buy a damn Nutricator. It made no sense at all. But different strokes for different folks, they used to say. She grabbed the chocolate pie and headed over to table 10, where sat a lonely old man sipping a cup of freshly brewed Folgers.
 

“Here you are, sweets: a delicious slice of chocolate pie,” Samantha said, laying the plate on the table. “I’m so jealous of you! Now I might have to eat a slice on my break in just a bit. You enjoy it, now.”

The elderly man smiled at her with tears in his eyes and looked down in shame. Samantha couldn’t begin to wonder why this gentle, older man would be so sad.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said through the frog in his throat. “I just realized that I only have enough Credit for the coffee. It sure does look delicious, though. My apologies, Miss.”

He started to get up and gather his coat to leave, but Samantha was not about to allow this old gentleman to leave the diner on an empty stomach. She couldn’t really afford to buy him the slice, and there was no way Tara would let her give it away. Samantha was just going to have to hope she wouldn’t get caught.

“You sit right on down and eat this pie, sweets,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s on the house since you’re such a handsome fellow. Just don’t tell the boss lady, ok?”
 

Tara wasn’t technically the boss; she was just in charge of the financial side of the diner. But he didn’t need to know all that, so Samantha winked at the old man and he grinned bigger than he had for years.
 

Even if she did get caught, even if she had to pay for the slice of Cheryl’s Famous Chocolate Pie out of her tips for today… she felt it was damn sure worth it just for that warm smile.
 

“Thank you so much, ma’am. I really do appreciate your kindness,” the old man said. “I wish there were more good people like you in this world.”

Samantha rubbed his shoulder and leaned down to whisper again in his ear, “Just between you and me, sweets? I don’t plan on paying for this pie. So, actually, could stealing a piece of pie for a stranger be considered kind? I’m not so sure.”

“Honestly, ma’am, right now I can’t think of any kinder act in the entire world. Thank you, again,” he said softly, not wanting to get the nice waitress in trouble.

She gave his old shoulder a pat, tossed him one last wink, and headed off to fill more cups and take away some plates.

-

August was on his way back to the hardware store. Again. In the past few weeks since they had first met, he had really gotten his apartment in decent shape. August had fixed all of the light fixtures, so they all had access to the wireless Tesla generator, instead of just the one in the kitchen and bedroom. That was a welcome fix, as now he could use the bathroom at night without… unfortunate consequences.

He had patched the holes in the walls and put down some throw rugs to cover the scratches on the floor. Most bachelors would either be wealthy enough to stay at a much nicer place, or just not care one bit about a crummy-looking apartment. August just liked to do something with his time, honestly. He loved to work with his hands. He wasn’t much of a maker, yet. August wanted to invent tech; he just didn’t trust himself enough. He was pretty damn adept at fixing things, though. If something broke, August could make it work as good as new, or good enough.
 

He was pretty good at odd jobs and fixing up stuff at home, but August’s real talent was with machines. That was funny to most people he knew because he didn’t seem to like machines all that much. He didn’t own a Nutricator for one. He also had a cellphone instead of a SmartChip. August refused to have one of those things implanted in his ear. He helped make them in the plant outside of town, and he saw how dirty some of the fingers were that touched those chips. “NO THANK YOU, SIR,” he would say.

August had modified his cellphone to function like a SmartChip, though. It used Tesla power; so it never needed charging, and he connected it with the Montek.Communication satellite for free unlimited calls and Net surfing. It wasn’t exactly legal, but no one would care if one little guy was piggybacking off of a multitrillion-dollar conglomerate.

Today he was headed back to the hardware store, not to buy anything, but to go out back and see if they had thrown anything useful away. It wasn’t against the law to dumpster dive, and he had found a lot of great stuff back there before; like wood to fix his floor with, a handsaw to cut the wood, and lots of broken power tools that he could fix or take apart to scavenge pieces. He had no real plan or idea of what he wanted to find today; August was just bored and wanted something to do. He walked down West Main Street;, just like he had every single day since the night, he met her.

Every day he walked between the lanterns and looked for the beautiful Asian woman with freckled skin and shoulder-length hair that swished when she moved. He thought of her often. Her dark eyes with a bit of brown, her smile that was a little bit higher on one side, and the way she had called him, “sweets.” It was driving August crazy. He dreamed about this woman nightly, he thought about her while working on the assembly line at the plant, he pictured her sitting next to him while he ate his simple daily lunch of processed Nutricator sandwiches, provided free of charge by the company.

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 said, “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.