“but as I recall, you weren’t even there Thursday. I sat down with my plate, turned to say hi to the guy on my left. When I turned back, you were gone.”
“You know I don’t like crowds.”
“I don’t like ’em any better, but a man’s gotta eat. And you just made my point, why they’ll be back to Salisbury steak tonight. That crowd that scared you off. All these new people are in town since the winter set in up north. You see ’em, all over the place. Well, they were there Thursday, chowing down something fierce. Went back for seconds after the line thinned out, and guess what? There weren’t any. Every tray was empty.”
They both stopped at the next intersection, allowing a single car to pass, then crossed the street. “All right,” Taylor said. “I concede. But you know most people call it meatloaf, not Salisbury steak.”
“I guess we’ll have to disagree on that too,” JD said. “Everybody knows you use ketchup with meatloaf. Ever see them set ketchup out on Saturday nights? I don’t. They serve it up with gravy. That’s the difference, smart guy, why I know it’s Salisbury steak.” Taylor didn’t reply. But JD knew that Taylor knew he was right. That was twice in a row. “Look, there’s the mission. You gonna stay this time or take off?”
“I’m not sure,” Taylor said. “I had my heart set on meatloaf tonight.”
JD thought he was serious, but he could never tell with Taylor. He looked up at his face, and Taylor was smiling.
Still, JD had a feeling he’d be eating alone again tonight.
“Amen.”
About fifty folks had said it, all about the same time. Mostly deep voices, because they were mostly men. Small price to pay, JD thought, eating a hot meal here once a week. As best as he understood, three or four churches took turns manning the mission. He didn’t remember them all, but they all followed the same format. A team of volunteers set the food out on a line of tables. Then they’d stand around as people wandered in. All the “guests” had to take a seat before anyone could eat. They could talk to each other if they wanted. Some did. Some just stared at the table.
JD wasn’t interested in talk. He was there to eat.
After everyone was seated, one of the men from the church would get up, tell everyone how happy he was to see them, and say the blessing. It was nice. Most of the time. Every now and then, someone new came in and prayed way too long, till everyone started to fidget. After they finished praying, the guests all said amen, and it was Salisbury steak time.
JD got up and got in line. Folks usually behaved in line. It was hard, for him anyway, especially when he was starving. About ten men got in ahead of him. He looked around the room. Like he figured, Taylor had split. But he was a good friend, for the most part.
He just didn’t like crowds.
“How are you doing tonight? It’s JB, right?”
JD looked up. A short, heavyset man about his own age was smiling at him. “Close. JD.”
“Sorry, JD.” He handed him a tray and some plasticware wrapped in a napkin. “Well, enjoy your dinner.”
JD looked down the line, at the next station, the good stuff. Didn’t really want to small talk with the help. A smile was in order, a word or two. But JD found that if you looked at them too long, they’d start asking get-to-know-you questions. And the ones who got sucked in that far might have someone sit next to them while they ate. JD had all the company in the world he cared to keep with Taylor.
And Art.
He missed Art.
At first, he thought it was just the Egg McMuffins. But for the last two days, he kept seeing poor Art in his mind, lying there on the floor, not moving. JD had called 911 then bugged out of there before anyone had seen him. Found out later, Art wasn’t dead, just in the hospital.
So maybe things would go back to normal.
He didn’t want to think about how long that might take. He knew he wouldn’t be getting a McMuffin tomorrow,
“You know I don’t like crowds.”
“I don’t like ’em any better, but a man’s gotta eat. And you just made my point, why they’ll be back to Salisbury steak tonight. That crowd that scared you off. All these new people are in town since the winter set in up north. You see ’em, all over the place. Well, they were there Thursday, chowing down something fierce. Went back for seconds after the line thinned out, and guess what? There weren’t any. Every tray was empty.”
They both stopped at the next intersection, allowing a single car to pass, then crossed the street. “All right,” Taylor said. “I concede. But you know most people call it meatloaf, not Salisbury steak.”
“I guess we’ll have to disagree on that too,” JD said. “Everybody knows you use ketchup with meatloaf. Ever see them set ketchup out on Saturday nights? I don’t. They serve it up with gravy. That’s the difference, smart guy, why I know it’s Salisbury steak.” Taylor didn’t reply. But JD knew that Taylor knew he was right. That was twice in a row. “Look, there’s the mission. You gonna stay this time or take off?”
“I’m not sure,” Taylor said. “I had my heart set on meatloaf tonight.”
JD thought he was serious, but he could never tell with Taylor. He looked up at his face, and Taylor was smiling.
Still, JD had a feeling he’d be eating alone again tonight.
“Amen.”
About fifty folks had said it, all about the same time. Mostly deep voices, because they were mostly men. Small price to pay, JD thought, eating a hot meal here once a week. As best as he understood, three or four churches took turns manning the mission. He didn’t remember them all, but they all followed the same format. A team of volunteers set the food out on a line of tables. Then they’d stand around as people wandered in. All the “guests” had to take a seat before anyone could eat. They could talk to each other if they wanted. Some did. Some just stared at the table.
JD wasn’t interested in talk. He was there to eat.
After everyone was seated, one of the men from the church would get up, tell everyone how happy he was to see them, and say the blessing. It was nice. Most of the time. Every now and then, someone new came in and prayed way too long, till everyone started to fidget. After they finished praying, the guests all said amen, and it was Salisbury steak time.
JD got up and got in line. Folks usually behaved in line. It was hard, for him anyway, especially when he was starving. About ten men got in ahead of him. He looked around the room. Like he figured, Taylor had split. But he was a good friend, for the most part.
He just didn’t like crowds.
“How are you doing tonight? It’s JB, right?”
JD looked up. A short, heavyset man about his own age was smiling at him. “Close. JD.”
“Sorry, JD.” He handed him a tray and some plasticware wrapped in a napkin. “Well, enjoy your dinner.”
JD looked down the line, at the next station, the good stuff. Didn’t really want to small talk with the help. A smile was in order, a word or two. But JD found that if you looked at them too long, they’d start asking get-to-know-you questions. And the ones who got sucked in that far might have someone sit next to them while they ate. JD had all the company in the world he cared to keep with Taylor.
And Art.
He missed Art.
At first, he thought it was just the Egg McMuffins. But for the last two days, he kept seeing poor Art in his mind, lying there on the floor, not moving. JD had called 911 then bugged out of there before anyone had seen him. Found out later, Art wasn’t dead, just in the hospital.
So maybe things would go back to normal.
He didn’t want to think about how long that might take. He knew he wouldn’t be getting a McMuffin tomorrow,
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