“Really?”
“The movie theater got new seats. They recline. The Gas Guzzle finally fixed their sign, unfortunately it burned out a few months ago. And they painted the high school.”
“Wow, it’s just a hub of activity here in Hume.”
“We are the epicenter of nothing. But we did recently acquire …”
“What?” Edison turned left onto Monroe Way the corner was illuminated by a orange and white neon sign. “Hot Doodle Dawgs?”
“You’re not saying it right. The Doodle’s got a little hop to it. HotDoodleDawgs.”
“Wow the name is?—”
“It wasn’t well thought out, I’ll give you that.”
“Hot Doodle Dawgs”
“Doodle.” He corrected me by adding a singsongy note to the word doodle.
“Ahh yes, my bad. HotDoodleDawgs.”
“Best hot dogs ever.”
“Better than Gas Guzzle?”
“The Gas Guzzle, where if food drops on the floor they hold it to the sky and ask the Lord to bless it before putting it back on display.”
“Yes, but the dirt and germs from Gas Guzzle is kind of the secret sauce.”
Edison parked his truck in the lot Hot Doodle Dawgs shared with the bank. Inside we ordered and found an empty booth. I got an onion ring and bacon hot dog, and while it wasn’t the best hot dog ever, it was the best hot dog in Hume.
Edison bit into his dog topped with potato chips and sauces, exaggerating his enjoyment with moans. “Admit it, this is pretty good,” he said around a mouthful of food.
“It’s not bad.”
“You see what you’re missing?”
“Is HotDoodleDawg a big tourist attraction for Hume?”
“I mean it gets customers from the adjacent towns every now and then.”
“Never in my life have I seen a man ride so hard for a hot dog joint.”
“I go hard for everything Hume related.”
“And I’m sure your ancestors are very proud.”
“Shit not a lot of towns like Hume survived. People didn’t appreciate groups of Black folks building their own shit. Creating their own wealth. When we rolled up, this was the town no one wanted. Dirt that wouldn’t grow, threats of flooding of the creek and the river. But our families made Hume home and so much blood was shed to keep it that way.”
Hume was founded by three Black families, the Birch family among them. In the middle of town there is this huge plaque in honor of the founders, and you couldn’t go into many buildings without seeing the now famous photo of the group standing together on Birch Street for the first anniversary celebration.
“You’re like our resident Hume historian.”
“I don’t know about that, but I do find the story of this town very interesting. I blame Dial. She is obsessed with that shit.” He waved the conversation away. “Nobody wants to talk about this town’s history. Tell me about your boyfriend.”
My hope was that my having a boyfriend wouldn’t come up, but Edison was owed an explanation. “Kind of, sort of boyfriend.”
Edison looked at me with his gentle eyes and I just spilled my guts.
