“Over at the depot again,” I replied after I’d drained half the glass. “Security doesn’t seem to care, and a couple guys pass through a few times a day, linger, toss a few bucks in, and make a request, unlike the park, where the cops love to sweep through and kick me out.”
All the singing and playing I’d done had left me parched, despite the overhang that had shaded my bench.
“Told you before you needed to look for a permanent gig. You’d make more playing in any one of the bars around here, especially if you told them who you were.”
“You mean who I used to be.”
Snorting, Pete shot me the same stink eye he gave whenever we had this discussion.
“Time to get over yourself and move on.”
“Not ready to hop another freight car yet,” I said. “It’s hell on the knees, especially getting off with that case.”
“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.”
“Come on Pete, all I’d be doing was going backward if I took your advice.”
“Why?”
“You know why,” I said. “Soon as folks find out who I am they start asking questions that I don’t wanna answer. This is the longest I’ve stuck around anywhere since my life fell apart. Was thinking I’d stay until it started getting cold, then head back to Nevada. Maybe bum around Reno this time. Folks tend to be a lot more generous with their cash in gambling cities, especially when they’re on a winning streak.”
“And what happens when you get bored in Reno?”
“I dunno. There’s always Vegas and L.A. after that. I haven’t been back there in a while.”
“Or you could let me ask around, see if I can find you a room somewhere,” Pete offered, and not for the first time. “I’d give you one upstairs if there was anything available.”
“It’s a good day when I can order a slice of pie, Pete. How am I supposed to pay for a room?”
“The same way the rest of us regular folks do,” Pete replied. “You get a job, you play music in your free time, and you figure out what you want the rest of your life to look like.”
I’d never been so happy to hear the cook ring that bell to signal that my order was ready. Bless him, Pete, with his weathered face and curly gray hair, at least twenty years my senior and forever doing his best to give fatherly advice.
“Thanks Pete, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested in settling down anywhere,” I said as he slid my food in front of me.
Fortunately for me, someone came in then and he took a menu over and chatted with them for a bit before taking their order, leaving me to enjoy my burger in peace. He knew the way I liked it, with two pieces of cheese melted on top of a thick slab of meat, lettuce, tomato, and spiral cut red onions sitting in a pileof ketchup and barbecue sauce. As he always did, he brought two dipping cups of ranch for me to dunk my onion rings in, though I always added two or three to my burger before biting into it.
Best burgers in the world, and I’d had more than my fair share of them in my travels.
I took my time savoring it. No big bites for me. I switched between the burger and onion rings, sipping soda until Pete came around to refill my glass again.
“So, answer this for me,” Pete said as he slid my glass back in front of me. “What happens if you meet someone? You gonna up and leave them when you get the itch to change cities?”
The way he worried about me was almost enough to get me to sayyesto him finding me a room. He cared more than almost anyone who’d ever been paid to look out for me and that was saying something, considering how many homes I’d been through. The problem with people caring, though, was eventually, I let them down. Better to hit the tracks before that happened, than to leave more shattered dreams in my wake.
“Look at me Pete,” I said after I’d wiped my mouth, “I spend half my time sneaking into the Y to shower and the other half washing up in the fountain in the park. My hair ain’t been trimmed in forever and I barely make enough to keep myself fed, let alone afford a proper date. You don’t have to worry about me running around breaking hearts. No one picks a bum to fall in love with.”
“Done told you before to stop calling yourself that,” he grumbled.
“I’m a lot of things, Pete, but at least I’m honest,” I said before popping the last onion ring in my mouth. “Pretending to be good for anyone would just be a load of bullshit.”
“Tell that to the kid you brought in here and fed last week when you barely had enough for a meal yourself,” Pete pointed out. “Or that Veteran you sat right in that booth with over thereand helped fill out his VA paperwork so he could get glasses, since he couldn’t see the lines to do it himself. Should I go on, or do you wanna stop trying to feed me that line of bullshit?”
“Can I have pie now?” I asked, weary of the conversation and him constantly trying to save me.
If I was meant to be saved, then someone would have done it a long time ago instead of leaving me twisting in the wind.
Huffing, he shoved away from the counter, muttering beneath his breath about me being a stubborn bastard as he stalked away. I was and I’d come by it honestly enough. Pretending otherwise was just as bad as a lie. As I waited, eagerly anticipating the slice he’d bring back with a mound of whipped cream on top, one thought skipped through my mind, completely unwanted and entirely Pete’s fault.
