Day Shift

9

The Rev strode down Witch Light Road, Diederik at his heels. The boy was washed and groomed. Joe smiled from his shop window. It had been a long time since he’d been around a person so young, and he found it made him feel happy. The Rev was making his usual beeline to the Wedding Chapel and Pet Cemetery at his usual time.

Hurrying out the shop door, Joe caught up with the ill-assorted duo just as the Rev mounted the steps to the chapel. “Good morning,” he said, and the Rev turned to give Joe a brisk nod. Diederik smiled. He looked like a different child with his hair brushed and his clothes clean, not to mention a scrubbed face. “Fiji?” Joe said, and the Rev nodded stiffly.

“She came by last night with some clothes for the boy,” the Rev said. “They seem to fit.”

“I like them,” Diederik said. He had a marked accent, though Joe wasn’t sure where he’d acquired it. Not Spanish or Russian, the two accents Joe knew the best.

“Rev, I wondered if you could spare Diederik this morning,” Joe said, carefully. “Chuy and I could use some help in the store, and we’d enjoy having a visitor.”

The Rev considered. “He’s under my care,” he said warningly. “You know what that means.”

“Yes, sir, I know,” Joe said. “And we will protect him as though he were our own.”

The Rev nodded. “Then keep him close and call me if anything arises. I will come by for him.” With no further ado, the older man in his rusty black turned his back on them and entered the chapel, the weathered brown door closing behind him with a thunk.

Diederik looked up at Joe. The boy seemed a little worried.

“You haven’t met my friend Chuy,” Joe said. “You’ll like him. Our shop is back this way.” They walked west on Witch Light Road, and then across it to the north side.

“Chuy, look who I brought with me,” Joe called as they came in.

“Good,” Chuy said. He was bent over the manicure station working on a customer. Joe was not too surprised to find that Fiji was getting her nails done, though that was a rare occurrence. “Chuy, this is Diederik,” Joe said formally. “And you remember Miss Fiji?”

Fiji just happened to have brought a basket of muffins and a thermos of orange juice with her. When she offered some to Diederik, his whole face lit up. “We had oatmeal at the Rev’s house,” the boy said in his oddly accented English. “It was fine,” he added politely. “But these are very good. And thank you for my clothes.”

Fiji smiled. “Glad you like the muffins and the clothes.” Chuy was painting her nails a creamy light orange, and after Diederik had consumed a muffin, he came close to watch. He was fascinated by the process. “Does your mom get manicures?” Chuy asked.

“I never saw her do that,” the boy said. He looked suddenly, profoundly unhappy.

“How old are you, Diederik?” Fiji said instantly, trying to erase the unhappiness.

“I am not as old as I look, but we grow up faster than…” The boy hesitated. “Most people,” he finished.

“You look like you’re about ten years old,” Fiji said, smiling. Then she looked at him again. “Or maybe older,” she added.

“Oh! I’m not.” Diederik laughed, but he also looked a little anxious.

Joe noticed that the boy had dodged saying whether he was older or younger, and he had to respect the boy’s privacy, though he was just as curious as Fiji. They glanced at each other; Joe understood that she would not question the boy further.

After Joe had finished Fiji’s manicure, he asked Diederik to sweep up around the station after wiping it down, and Diederik jumped at the chance to be useful. This was a boy who really wanted to be busy, a boy who wasn’t used to sitting idle, much less kneeling in the bleak chapel with the Rev in meditation. Joe made a mental note to suggest to the Rev it was probably time to weed the pet cemetery and do the lawn mowing and bush trimming behind the chapel in the confines of the high fence. The pet cemetery was the prettiest place in Midnight, aside from Fiji’s yard, which always had flowers in bloom except in the dead of winter.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Fiji was saying, as if she’d read Joe’s thoughts, “you can come to help me in my garden in the morning. Have you ever done yard work?”

“No, ma’am,” he said.

“If I show you what weeds to pull, I’m sure you can do that. It would be a big help to me. I won’t be torn between the shop and the yard.” Fiji looked happy. “I’ll stop by the chapel to see if I can clear that with the Rev.”

Diederik looked pleased. “Thanks, and have a nice day,” he said, just like a flight attendant when the passengers were exiting the plane. “Maybe I will see you tomorrow. Thank you for the muffins and orange juice.” Fiji left with an empty basket.

“Whoever brought him up did it right,” Chuy murmured. Diederik did a good job of cleaning the manicure station. Next he helped Joe dust all the antiques. Joe showed him a secret drawer in an old desk, which Diederik found appropriately cool. Chuy remembered he had a set of jacks left by a client’s child, and after he taught Diederik how to play, the boy enjoyed it very much.

And he was unbelievably fast.

By and by, it was time for lunch. Joe and Chuy took Diederik across the street to Home Cookin and introduced him to Madonna and little Grady.

Oddly, Diederik didn’t seem to know what to make of Grady, especially when he found out Grady was over a year old. Grady was going from stool to stool in front of the counter, but he didn’t seem to mind being lifted into his playpen when Madonna was too busy cooking and serving to keep an eye on him. She always acknowledged offers to watch him with dignified thanks, but clearly she was sure it was her job to keep the baby from harm. Madonna was not one to share her thoughts or emotions, so it surprised everyone (but Diederik) when she said, “I am sure ready for someone to come in to manage the Gas N Go, someone permanent, so Teacher can be here to help me more.”

After they’d absorbed this, Joe said, “He hasn’t heard from the owners?”

“Oh, he has,” she said, pouring more iced tea from the jug. “But they keep saying no one wants the job permanently, even though it’ll come with the house, which the owners rented to… the previous family.”

None of them wanted to talk about the previous manager of the filling station/store. Or his kids.

When their food came, Diederik ate every scrap on his plate. There was no conversation once the food was in front of him; he consumed it with single-minded concentration. He only paused to raise a hand to greet Fiji, who’d come in to pick up her lunch to take back to her shop. After he’d wiped his mouth with his napkin, as he saw the others doing, he seemed to be thinking hard about something.

“This is a good place,” Diederik said suddenly. “Why is it hard to find someone who would live here?”

“We like it here just fine,” Joe said. “But I guess, for a lot of people, there’s just not enough going on, and they don’t like to drive to Davy or even farther to do their serious shopping.”

“But there are wide-open spaces, and you can see people coming. And there aren’t many peoples,” Diederik said, sweeping his arm to indicate the vastness of the country around them. His accent became more pronounced, and Joe tried to figure it out. But he hadn’t traveled much. He glanced at Chuy, who gave a tiny shrug. Chuy didn’t know, either. “That’s wonderful. It’s safer.”

Fiji looked worried at the inference that Diederik was used to living in danger, but she didn’t speak. Joe gave her an approving smile. He liked Fiji for her warm heart, but at the same time, it was what occasionally made her indiscreet.

It was a good moment for Bobo to come in, the sun lighting up his hair like a halo, an irony that made Joe smile. Diederik smiled when Bobo entered, too; everyone did, especially Fiji. It was the charm of the man, and Joe was sure that charm would last until Bobo was old, if he was fortunate enough to live that long.

“The reporters are getting bored hanging around Manfred’s, and some of them are heading this way,” Bobo said.

Diederik looked from one adult to the other, trying to figure out if he should be scared. Joe said, “Diederik, we’re going to leave out the back door and drive to Davy. Have you ever had ice cream?”

The boy shook his head. “What is it?”

“Something really good,” Fiji said. “You’re going to have a great time.”

“Explain to the Rev,” Joe told Chuy. “Okay, buddy, here we go!” He extended a hand to the boy, and Diederik took it without hesitation. They made their way through the kitchen, with a wave to Madonna, and then they were outside. Joe and the boy walked back to the street, peering around the corner of Home Cookin until the little gaggle of reporters went inside. Then they crossed Witch Light Road and walked to the parking area behind the store to climb into Joe’s truck. Diederik buckled his seat belt without Joe saying a word, and in short order they were headed north on the Davy highway.

Joe smiled at the boy. “I think you’re really going to like ice cream,” he said, and he was right.