14 October 1978
Payday
“Yesterday was payday,” Nat said. In-between punches on the heavy bag.
“First payday ever?”
“Yup.”
“How’d it feel?”
“It sucked. I couldn’t believe it. They took so much out for taxes. And unemployment. And all this other stuff I never even heard of. And then I had to pay the old guy back for the bus fare. And put aside for bus fare till next payday. So I look at what’s left, and I’m like, ‘I went through all those days of hell for this?’ I couldn’t believe it. If I didn’t have a free roof over my head … I mean, how do people even do it? I don’t get it at all.”
After a couple more good punches Little Manny said, “Welcome to the real world, kid.”
A few minutes of solid blows. No comments.
Then Nat said, “What time is it?”
“Five to eleven.”
“I need to take a break.”
“We only just barely started.”
“I need a chocolate milkshake. All of a sudden I’m just in the mood for a chocolate milkshake. How far a walk is the Frosty Freeze from here?”
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Nat stepped up to the window with Feathers at his heel. Behind the counter he saw a skinny guy about his own age with glasses, a paper hat, and a red-and-white striped Frosty Freeze shirt.
The other window was still closed, and Nat craned his neck to see if anyone else was working in the back. He could hear someone moving around back there. But when the someone finally moved into view Nat saw a tall, very fat man.
“Welcome to Frosty Freeze. Can I take your order?”
“Oh. Chocolate shake.”
“Yes, sir.”
It felt weird to be called “sir” by a guy his own age. I guess work’ll do that to you, Nat thought. Cut you right down to size.
“So, where’s that girl who works here?”
“Which one? Lot of girls work here. Oh, by the way. No dogs on the patio.”
“Oh. Sorry. I couldn’t see anyplace to tie him up.”
“Yeah, OK, but just … if the boss comes … I told you the rule.”
“Right. You did. She has brown hair and brown eyes.”
“That could be about three of ’em.” Then, over his shoulder, “Freddy? One chocolate shake.”
“And freckles on her nose.”
“Sounds like Carol.”
“OK. Where’s Carol?”
“She doesn’t come in till two on Saturday.”
“Shit,” Nat said under his breath.
Then, having already ordered the chocolate shake, he had no choice but to pay for it, and walk back to Little Manny’s with it, straining to draw the challenging thickness of it up the straw as he walked.
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“You got an alarm clock here?” Nat asked Little Manny.
“No, why would I need an alarm clock? I don’t gotta be at work till closing time.”
“Kitchen timer?”
“There’s one on the stove, but I don’t know if it works. I’m not much of a cook. Why? You got someplace better to be?”
“I’m just thinking at two o’clock I might get in the mood for another chocolate shake.”
Little Manny sighed and shook his head. “I know what you’re doing. And it’s not gonna work.”
“Why isn’t it?”
“‘Cause it’ll just put fat on you. What you want to do is to bulk up, but with muscle. You wanna gain weight, ask me how. Let me show you how to do it the right way. I’m your trainer. That’s what I’m here for.”
“OK. Show me how to gain weight. That would be good. But I’m still going back to the Frosty Freeze at two.”
“So tell me what’s at that Frosty place besides the chocolate milkshakes.”
“This girl.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Were you worried it was something dangerous? Like drug deals at the Frosty Freeze?”
“Nothing’s more dangerous than a girl,” Little Manny said.
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Carol was standing behind the window as Nat stepped up to the counter. She looked cute in her paper hat and red-and-white striped shirt. She had her short sleeves rolled up high, and her upper arms looked smooth and thin. She wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail, then shoved into a hairnet and crowned by the silly hat. Only, it was sillier on the skinny guy. On her it was sort of … adorable.
“Welcome to Frosty Freeze. Can I take your order, strange boy with the bird dog? Who, by the way, is not supposed to be on the patio?”
“Who, me or the dog?”
She smiled, though she appeared to be trying not to. “The dog.”
“If the owner comes, I’ll be sure to tell him you told me the rule.”
“You don’t follow directions very well, do you?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“I still think that’s a silly name for a dog.”
“Well. I think Frosty Freeze is a silly name for your work. Because Frosty and Freeze both mean the same thing. It’s like saying Wet Water.”
“You can think whatever you want about it, Strange Boy, but I didn’t name the Frosty Freeze. I just work here. You named that dog yourself.”
“I guess you got a point,” Nat said.
“Can I take your order?”
“Yes. Thank you. I’d like a chocolate shake. I was training. You know. Working out. And I just got in the mood for a chocolate shake.”
“You get in the mood for a chocolate shake a lot, don’t you?”
“Now why would you say that?”
“Kenny said you were here about three hours ago getting a chocolate shake—”
“I’m trying to put on weight. Trying to go from … To get up to welterweight.”
“… and asking about me.”
“Seemed rude to come by your work and not even say hello.”
To his dismay, Nat was unable to force his facial muscles not to smile. They insisted on contracting, like a muscle spasm, into just the type of idiot grin he was hoping to avoid.
“Hey, Freddy. Another chocolate shake for the bottomless pit.”
Nat glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was waiting in line behind him. If he’d have to step away from the window. Nobody back there. He breathed again.
“So, Strange Boy, are you a boxer?”
“How’d you know that?” Proud and flattered. As if she had seen it just by looking.
“You said you were trying to get up to welterweight.”
“Oh. Right. Yes. I’m a boxer.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Well, it’s not the only thing I do. But it will be. I mean, in the short run I’m having to hold down a day job. There’s a lot involved with going pro. It’s a serious business. But that’s definitely where I’m going.”
“So, now I know everything about you—”
“Well, not—”
“… except your name.”
“Nat.”
“Like Nat King Cole.”
“Yes. Like Nat King Cole.”
“I love Nat King Cole. I know his music probably seems old-fashioned now. I mean, to most people our age. But he’s my favorite crooner.”
Not two weeks earlier, if anybody had told Nat they had a favorite crooner, he would have thought they were from outer space. Now he made a mental note to get a record by Nat King Cole. Or maybe even go to the record store and listen to a few different crooners in that little booth. See if he had a favorite.
No, that wouldn’t be necessary. Nat King Cole would definitely be his favorite.
Unfortunately, Fat Freddy waddled by and set the chocolate shake on the counter beside Carol’s porcelain arm. And, fortunately, kept waddling. Nat had been hoping he’d work far more slowly.
“What do I owe you for that?” Nat asked her.
“You should know what a chocolate shake costs. After all, it’s your second one today.”
“I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Shhhh,” she whispered, finger to her lips. “This one’s on me.”
Nat’s cheek muscles went crazy.
She likes me. I knew it. I knew she liked me. She really likes me.
He opened his mouth but no words came out.
“You got someone in line behind you,” she said.
Nat looked over his shoulder to see a middle-aged couple, waiting. But they were still peering over Carol’s head at the menu. So he had a little time. But maybe not much.
“So, now that you met me at work, can I have your phone number?”
“I didn’t meet you at work. I met you on a bus bench.”
“No, you met me here. Just now.”
“How do you figure?”
“You haven’t really met someone until you know their name.”
“I guess that’s one way to look at it.”
“So, can I have your number?”
“No. I’m not that kind of girl. But if you want to come by here again, that would be OK. Now …” She indicated the people behind him with a flip of her head.
Nat grabbed the milkshake and ran all the way back to Little Manny’s. Just because he had energy to spare.
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