The clock radio jarred him awake. Drenched with sweat from a fitful night of tossing and turning in his stuffy small apartment. Jason opened his eyes to greet another stifling day in the city. Although he had left the windows open and the fan on high. the thermometer in his room registered 80 degrees. Moreover the radio announced that the temperature would soar into the upper 90s by mid afternoon. He could practically smell the heat as he lay there trying to conjure up enough energy to rise from his bed.

Dragging himself to the bathroom and letting the cold water of the shower revive his body. He starts to feel rejuvenated, like a wilted flower springing back to life. Jason pulls on his jeans and a plain white tee, picks up a backpack and grabs a cold bottle of water from the fridge. Another day begins.

It's 5:25 a.m. He steps out into the life of the city. Jason lives above an Antique Shop on the Avenue. directly across the street from Bud's Used Cars. A once grand and prosperous area now deteriorated since the great urban flight to the suburbs. Many of the storefronts are empty, graffiti scrawled on almost every building that he passes on his walk to work. The stench from receptacles overflowing with garbage and the gas fumes from passing vehicles are like the decay of a dead carcase. He reaches the diner at 5:50 a.m. Mitchell has already arrived.

“Hey Jason, how's it going?”

“I'm hanging in there, I see you got here early.”

“Yeah, I couldn't sleep with all this heat. I've made some coffee if you want a cup. Our regulars should start coming in soon.”

The diner is small, painted light blue with a wood chair rail, seven small tables and a formica counter that seats eight. Pictures of Elvis, Marilyn, and Jimmy Dean adorn the walls. But best of all, it has an air conditioner above the door that actually works – a virtual Oasis on the Avenue. Jason pours himself a cup of coffee and puts on a clean white apron. He's been the dishwasher here since February, about six months now. Mitchell the owner, waiter, and part time cook, along with Anna, the real cook, make up their work force.

“Have you heard from Anna?”, Jason asked

“Not yet! I'll handle the grill until she gets here. You may have to wait on the tables”

Jason nodded. “That's odd,” he thought.

Anna is always the punctual one,.and it is she who opens the diner each morning. Jason helps put the daily supplies away that Mitchell has bought. Each day Mitchell stops at the market to get fresh veggies, eggs, and whatever else they may need. Having Anna to open up has always been a big help for him. Suddenly the bell on the door chimes, like a rooster announcing the dawn of day, their first customers arrive.

Jason picks up an order pad and greets Bob and Joe, who work across the street at the Fix-It-Rite garage. They come in each morning for their breakfast.

“Hey, check out the new waitress. Ain't she pretty!”

“ Don't flirt with my help.” Mitchell yells from the back.

They all have a good laugh and Jason takes their orders. More customers come in and he hustles to keep up. By 10:00 a.m. things finally begin to slow a bit, and Jason asks Mitchell if there has been any word from Anna.

“Not yet.'

Mitchell, being concerned, looks up her home number to give her a call. When he starts to dial he hears the familiar beep, beep, beep on his cell phone.-- a voice-mail message. “I must not have heard it ring during the morning chaos.” he thought.

“You have one new message,” he hears. “Hi Mitchell, this is Danny, Anna's brother, she suffered a heat stroke last night and is in St. Mark's hospital. I'll keep you posted.”

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 30.07.2011

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