[New Voices] Ham & Chaz - C. C. Brower, J. R. Kruze
Boy Meets Girl - and heals an epidemic with their cooking. Another fundamental short story fiction in the Ghost Hunters Books Universe.
by C. C. Brower & J. R. Kruze
- - - -
Finding out you're immortal as a teenager can set your world on fire.
But finding out at the same time that getting angry could kill everyone around you can dampen that pretty quickly.
Who wants to live forever if you can't get close enough to someone that they can piss you off and live to see the next sunrise with you?
Meaning - it was time to take a road trip to sort things out.
When my uncle offered a summer gig cooking out of his food truck for a big-city contract, I jumped at it.
But when he stopped to pick up another helper down the road, I was bummed. She was a looker, a great cook, but I didn't know if I could trust myself with her - in every way...
I
"CHAZ? YOU READY?" UNCLE Jean was rustling around in his food truck, opening and closing cabinets, double-checking everything.
I swung my duffel up the steps into the truck. "Sure thing."
He looked at my bag, and the jacket I was wearing. "That's all you're bringing? We're going to be there all summer."
"Just packed light. Enough t-shirts for a fresh change every day, skivvies, socks, jeans. It's going to be hot, humid and maybe we'll get rained on every now and then. Didn't figure a raincoat would be worth it. I know every inch of this truck and know how little space there is to stow anything not vital to cooking or living."
Jean just smiled. "That's my nephew. Always practical."
There was a school bus bench seat that was bolted down just behind the driver's air-ride bucket. I stowed my duffel behind that bench seat and flopped down across it. "Ready when you are."
Jean moved around my legs and slid into the bucket, pulling the shoulder belt across his broad frame to click it in position. Then checked his mirrors. Turning on the ignition, the big van started smoothly. He checked the gauges as it warmed up and turned into a throaty purr. "You've added another few inches to your length since last summer." Almost an after thought.
"Not so many that my favorite t shirts don't stay tucked in. There's not so many inches this year, and they tell me not so many more in my future."
"You can count on those nurses to give you the straight scoop. Handy having that nursing school in town. Free check-up for just about anything. Of course for you, the check ups go both ways."
"How do you figure? I'm no doctor and you wouldn't catch me being a male nurse."
I could see his face in the big bus mirror he'd installed above him to keep an eye on his cabinets and passengers. "Just as long as you can get your checkups at the beginning of each semester when the new student-nurses flock in."
I just smiled and looked out the window. Jean knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.
Uncle Jean checked the non-existent traffic on that street before he clicked the fine-tuned transmission in gear to roll and lurch out of the steep driveway onto graveled roadway in front of it. It would still be a few miles before we got to the nearest state road and actual pavement.
I was looking forward to getting to some real civilization as a break from these rural villages. My whole life had been spent in them, it seemed. Only long trips to state fairs brought any semblance of organized culture near me.
While I loved the quiet and peace that pastures and woods brought, I was itching to find what the rest of the world had available.
II
"IS THAT ALL YOU'RE taking?" Mom was hovering around me, trying not to appear anxious, but she and I both knew she was nervous about my trip.
"Mom, I'll be find. Uncle Jean will make sure I'm safe. And besides, all those classes you make me take in self-defense don't exactly make me a victim waiting to happen."
"I know, I know. And when you get back, you can work on getting your next belt. All I want you to know is that we wanted you to be able to defend yourself, not look for trouble." Her forehead frowned again.
"Mom. Look, it's that Zen stuff that I like in these classes. They help me control any situation. I know my limits. I know when to back away. OK?"
She smiled and moved off a bit, knowing her hovering wasn't going to do either of us any good. "Oh, I almost forgot..." A few quick steps into the kitchen and then she was back by the front door where I had my knapsack and book bag. In her hands were two rolled-over lunch bags.
I had to smile. Mom was always looking out for everyone.
"This is a snack for the road." She held up the smaller of two bags, a brown one. Then lifted the bigger white bag. "And these are your Uncle Jean's favorite treats. But I know you like them, too."
Just then we could both hear the down-shifting gears of a heavy truck outside on the graveled street. Through the front door window, I could see the big food van slow to a stop.
I kissed Mom on the cheek and grabbed the rucksack. She bent to pick up the book sack and put the two lunch bags inside it on top, holding out the long straps together so I could put them on my shoulder.
I opened the door, slipped the straps on my arm, then pushed through the screen door out onto the paving stone walk to our graveled street.
"Be careful..." She called from the doorway.
I smiled and waved.
Jean had the door open for me and was smiling as he moved down the van steps to greet me. Giving me a big hug in spite of the bags I was carrying, he then turned and went back ahead of me to his driver's seat.
I made my way up the steps and saw the young man in the bus bench seat. I had to pause. He wasn't the same boy I'd met every year at the summer festivals. Longer, and now some beard showing up on his chin. His eyes were darker, even moody now. And a frown crossed his forehead as he swung his long legs down and got up to give me the bench to sit on.
"Hi, Hami."
"Hi, Chaz. Been awhile."
"Missed the festival last year."
"Yea, things come up. You didn't miss much."
"There's space under the bench for your things, I'll ride shotgun for awhile."
Chaz meant the fold-down seat just inside the van's front door. Where the only place to put your legs was usually curled up underneath it. Not comfortable for a long trip.
I stowed my knapsack under the bench, but put the book bag on the bench seat. "Jean, Mom made something for you, but she only told me you'd like it." I pulled out the white bag and handed it to him.
Jean took the bag into his lap and opened the top, then closed his eyes with the smells making his face widen into a smile of contentment. "Macaroons. She knows the way to my heart."
He waved out the still-open door to Mom, who was standing in the doorway, holding the screen open to see us off. She smiled back. Jean closed the front side door to the van, and put it into gear.
Chaz flipped down the seat by the door and got his own seat belt on to match Jean's. Then stretched his long legs out to rest them on the dash. Putting those new inches of his to good use.
Jean handed him the bag of cookies, and Chaz held it open in return, so he could take a couple in his large hand. Chaz then turned to me to see if I wanted any.
I shook my head no and settled in to get my own seat belt on.
But I couldn't get that vision of Chaz' dark eyes out of my head. Moody, maybe, but I knew we were needing to have a talk about things – comparing notes, or something.
Soon we were onto that paved state road. There were still some miles ahead before we could get onto the Interstate and start feeling that freedom that travel brings.
III
WE DROVE PRETTY MUCH straight through. I don't know how Jean does all that driving. But I do understand why he invested in that up-scaled bucket seat with the air suspension. The other big investment was on the power steering, a smooth transmission, and what must be an endless supply of patience.
Hami had been busy in the back for the last hour, rearranging things, and setting up some dishes so she'd be ready to start cooking when we stopped. I tried to see what she was working on, but she wouldn't have it. Just shushed me out of the back and told me to find something else to do.
Like I had any choice. No matter how big this van was, it got cramped real quick. "Hey Hami, can I read one of your books?"
"As long as you don't start wagging your jaw at me about 'mushy' romance." And punctuated that with some clattering steel pans.
I found some thick novel, I think it was Gaskell's "North and South" - another dry classic, but when I stretched out on that hard cushion called a bus seat, I lost myself for the next hour or so. She was right about the mush in there. But I didn't see any Doc Savage or L'Amour in her bag, so this beggar couldn't be choosy. (Still, not even a Doyle-Holmes collection?)
Finally we got to a lot outside a one-story long hospice we were going to work outside of. It was getting dark, but I could see some yellow tapes strung around the place and white placards with red letting posted on poles. I think I read “Quarantine” somewhere in all that.
Once we pulled up, Jean let me be first out the door. And the exotic urban smells almost floored me. Exhaust fumes and hot asphalt, all mixed in a humid soup that made it hard to breathe.
Jean had a few words with Hami, then came outside himself. "I've got to go check in, or try to, anyway. Hami says her 'miracle' will be ready in 15 minutes or so. Why don't you get one of the folding tables out with a couple of chairs and pull out the awning?"
I nodded, he turned and left. I didn't feel like saying much, and that was fine with him. Moving around outside felt better than sitting and waiting. I knew where he stowed everything from working his truck last summer. Getting everything set up before Hami was ready to bring out her dishes was quick. I pulled out a checkered plastic table cover in lieu of scrubbing everything down in the darkening twilight. Although the outside lights gave enough to eat by, the anti-bug yellow glow made sure you identified all your food by smell.
And I didn't know if "miracle" was Jean's term or Hami's, but some breezes through the open windows of the van brought me smells that made me realize how long it was since I'd eaten.
Jean reappeared when Hami got the rest of the pots and hot pads down, taking several trips until I just told her to slide the screens aside and I'd help her. Her last trip was with a covered desert dish that was beading with condensation.
Jean had brought drinks for us. Three tall iced coffees from some local quick-stop convenience store.
We all sat, held hands, and bowed our heads for a moment. Then we dug in, coordinating taking a helping with being able to pass it to the next open hot pad. Hami took a few of the empty pans off, pushing them back through the van's windows and closing the screens behind them.
We were all tired, the food was great, and so the conversation didn't really start until we finished.
"Where did you learn to cook?" I asked.
Hami frowned. "I'm supposed to take that as a compliment, since you cleaned your plate." Statement of fact.
"Yea, I mean, sorry. I really wanted to find out if it was a book or lessons from your mother or grandmother or what. Like I wouldn't mind learning if I could." Of course all that came out of my mouth clumsy, backhanded.
Jean and Hami looked at each other. Jean just shrugged. She handed him the dessert dish.
"Well, see if you still think so after this last one."
And yes, I did, after having a little bit of heaven melt down my throat.
"I thought you had to bake cheesecake."
"Thoughts can be deceiving," Hami replied, with a wry smile.
I turned to Jean, "OK, now that you have your cook, what am I supposed to do this trip?"
Jean just smiled and looked at the two of us. "You're going to be the best summer cook team I've ever had. Hami is great, and that's no doubt, but you're the fastest short order grill cook I've ever seen. And believe it when I tell you that it's going to get fast around here. Almost all the local restaurants have closed due to the outbreak. So they are bringing in special volunteer teams."
"Outbreak?" Hami and I both spoke at once.
Jean just smiled broader. "Yes, it's just what you're thinking. No, we aren't at risk. When is the last time either of you even heard of any flu going around either of our little towns?"
We both sat back and started piecing it together.
IV
"LAZURAI EFFECT." UNCLE Jean said at last.
That term rang a bell somehow.
"That's also why you are both adopted. You've got special genes and can't get infected by the normal stuff. Hell, probably by anything. There is one catch, though."
Both Chaz and I leaned forward at this.
"You can't allow yourself to get pissed off by anyone or anything. Because the same stuff that keeps you healthy all the time can make anyone around you quite ill, and quite fast. I'm only telling you this because it's probably something your parents haven't bothered to tell you so far. And they let me do it, because - well..."
I nodded. The pieces were falling in place. My mom had left my summer schedule open, while I was usually piled higher and deeper with activities. She knew I wanted to get out of town and see the world, especially when my reading list was filled with exotic locations. And the video's I'd bring home or download were about traveling.
Chaz spoke first, though. "So all our training and studies, even the sports we took were to help us get to the point of taking our first road trip, but you're here to tell us the ground rules."
Jean smiled again, but then got serious and leaned forward. "Only because you two can handle it..."
"Rite of passage." I finished.
Jean nodded. "All that Zen and meditation and inner counting you've studied. Both of you. You're going to need it in the next few days and weeks. Because you can both be unsung heroes, keeping your secret and solving their little problems - or you can make everything much, much worse. Your choice."
Then he sat back and sipped his iced coffee. And waited for the next questions.
It took awhile.
I spoke first. "Why keep what we are and everything about us a secret?"
Jean answered, "Because while people say they want immortality, they also can't accept the responsibility of it. The original Lazurai learned that the hard way. And why you don't see many of them around. That you can recognize, anyway. It's been the children they raised who have learned to master the talents and abilities the first ones were given. Your parents, your grandparents, all back to the originals have been working to this point."
Chaz would wait no longer. "Wait, so our genetic make-up has something to do with this outbreak. Meaning we can heal somehow?"
Jean replied, "Ever notice how fast you recover from a scratch or cut? How about a bruise from some of your sports? Some of that is you, some is from the people around you that are your family or your fellow towns-people. But the thing you have to remember is that the original Lazurai had no control over this. And even people downwind got sick - and died."
That thought took over - a place neither Chaz nor I had wanted to go.
Jean smiled to lighten the mood. "Of course, both of you are great under pressure, both of you are great cooks. You'll do just fine. After I help you two set up in the morning, I'll leave you to it - I have to get some supplies lined up and attend to some other matters around town. But just remember this - I'll always be around if you need me.”
Chaz and I nodded.
"OK, then. We're camping out. Hami, you've got the van, Chaz and I have the outdoors."
We all pitched in to clean up. Jean showed us where the sleeping rolls, pads, and ground tarps were. Parking lots and van floors weren't soft, but we'd make do. Just more adventure.
Of course, sleep didn't come easy that night.
V
THEY WERE WAITING FOR us before dawn.
Hungry people. Lots of them. Jean nudged my feet and I sat up, rubbing my eyes.
"No rest for the wicked."
I rolled up our sleeping gear and stowed it while Jean went inside to make sure Hami was up - she was. And he came back out with a wad of her sleeping bag and pad for me to roll up and stow. Jean then went around back to start the generator. I heard Hami firing up the grill and soon got all the smells of it. Meanwhile, I unfolded the chairs again and set out the small condiments table. Hami opened up the screen window and passed out the napkins, salt/pepper packages, and plastic-ware.
Everyone was pretty orderly and started forming into lines. I heard some coughing, some sneezing, but nothing really serious. Of course, in the dark, it was hard to tell much beyond the yellow glow under our awning. I did see some white nurse's and doctor's outfits in the line out there.
The guys in front of the line just smiled at me when I gave them any attention. And I smiled back. Our work was cut out for us, but they were honestly happy to see us.
Jean was inside, doing a final check to see everything was in place. I pulled up a trash can and put a liner in it, one of many I could see filling today.
Then I headed inside the van to get started.
- - - -
THE DAY ROLLED THROUGH with just enough breaks that we got our own meals in between. Jean showed up regularly, often riding up with someone's delivery truck with more supplies.
Both of us got frazzled from working in the humid heat. And I had to take my “quick-counts” for “centering” myself often – just keep going on an even keel. Hami seemed to deal better with it than me. But she got to smile at the customers and seeing them smile back. Of course, I was focused right on the hot grill, while my bandanna kept my brow sweat wicked to the side and out of my eyes.
All I could see most of the time was the next order and the last one going out.
And Hami's cute backside every now and then.
But mostly my mind had to stay on what I was cooking and my supply of hamburger and cheese. For our menu was simple. It had burgers and cheese in different combinations. And we never had any complaints.
By our long lines, we didn't have much competition, either. Jean had understated how much we were needed. We were on our feet for most of that day. Hot, sweaty work with few breaks.
Finally, after sunset, the lines quit. Before then, there was no shutting them down. People just kept coming. Some said it was the first meal they'd had in days. Most paid in cash, but we also accepted the local version of government welfare cards. Our truck had some sort wi-fi connection that was locked down within an inch of itself. It took care of their payments somehow.
All Hami and I needed to do was just keep everything moving.
What helped was the intermittent showers that cooled everything off. The hungriest stayed in line, but that line shortened to the few who could stand under our awning. Hami and I could take a break during those showers and clean up inside the van a bit. Then the rain would let up, the line would stretch out again and we'd get going on their requests.
- - - -
JEAN WAS BACK BY NIGHTFALL. He brought us both some ice cream in pints. We ate it as he walked us over to a nearby truck stop that had shower facilities. Hami went first, and I caught up Jean on how it went that day. I went next, then Jean was in for his.
I didn't have much to say to Hami, nor she to me. Tired, too tired to say anything.
But she looked over at me with her eyes. Those hazel eyes of hers set off against her deep red hair always got my attention, even when she was a little girl at the festivals. Not that she couldn't lead most of the boys around just by her looks alone.
While I was remembering our years of growing up, she just moved over and hugged me.
My surprise was evident. Not that I didn't like it, I just wasn't expecting it.
"That's for staying cool today. You really kept it together. All I had to watch out for was your elbows. Those patties were almost flying out of there on their own. Thanks."
I was speechless. "Well, you did good, too."
She just smiled and went back to leaning her shoulders and hips against the brick wall and combing out her long red hair.
"Boy, I hope the rest of the days aren't as bad." I said to no one in particular.
Jean surprised me by answering. "Some will be worse. But you both did real good today. I'm proud of you and your parents will be, too. We helped a lot of people today."
Jean smiled at both of us. "Ready?"
We walked back to the truck. It was dark and late. You could still hear the traffic, and occasional music blaring out of someone's open car or truck windows. Still humid, still gritty. Far from the open fields and graveled roads of home.
VI
THE NEXT COUPLE OF weeks went by too quickly.
Uncle Jean gave us lessons at night after our showers, when we felt more refreshed and awake again. He taught us to pull from within ourselves to change the world around us.
One night, a gang showed up. They drove by us as we were walking, and then came back, and parked ahead of us - on the wrong side of that street. About five of them, in one car. One stood on the sidewalk ahead of us, just waiting. The others fanned out for an ambush.
But the closer we came, the more agitated they got. And sicker. If they moved off, they felt better. But the last one, the leader, tried to stay the course right in front of us. He wanted something.
Sad for him, all he got was a bad case of up-chucks, right behind his own car. Lucky he missed it.
We just kept walking.
Jean told us, after we were out of their earshot. "All that martial arts training wasn't so you could get into fights and kick butts all over town. It was to learn your own self-control. What you saw back there was just an inkling of how you can affect the environment around you. And there's only one defense against something that powerful."
We walked on for a little bit. Finally the suspense was just too much.
So I asked, "OK what is it?"
Uncle Jean just looked at me with a side-wise glance. "Hami, what's the secret to your cooking? There's some ingredient you use that only master chefs ever really learn. Usually something they can only get by cooking with their mother or grandmother..."
Chaz was hanging on this one.
I stopped walking and they both stopped with me while I figured it out. I knew that something, and knew what it was, but I never had to put it into words before. It was just “something”. Like the look on my Mom's face when I got the recipe just right. Usually with a big hug, no matter what was on the front of our aprons.
Then it hit me. "Love?"
Jean smiled. Chaz lit up like a light bulb.
"Of course. Love!" I was dumbfounded not to think about it that way before. "Chaz, those kind were the best burgers you ever served at the festivals. The ones that went to your friends and family. Tasted the best, gave you the longest lasting full stomach and never an upset one. It's not on any recipe anywhere. And I've studied lots of them."
Jean put his arms around the two of us and we started walking again. I put mine around his shoulders and Chaz put his on top of mine.
Big smiles all around.
And sleep came easy that night.
Except for one dream.
VII
"HAMI, WAKE UP - WAKE up." Chaz was shaking me. Or I was shaking and he was trying to get it to stop.
I sat up from my place on the floorboards of the van and grabbed onto him with both arms, like I didn't want to let go.
He turned and sat beside me and held on as well.
"What was that all about? The whole truck was shaking. And we could feel it out there."
"You two OK?" Jean was in the doorway, looking in at us.
"Now we are," I told him. "Just a very bad dream." I stroked Hami's hair to help her calm down. She softened and leaned against me.
"Thanks." She looked up into my eyes. "I'm glad you are here, both of you - but especially you, Chaz."
Jean quietly left to inspect the outside of the truck and check things out.
"You know you're always welcome, Hami. Whatever you need, just ask."
She gave me a tight squeeze at that.
With her head on my shoulder, she was much calmer now. I could smell the fragrance of her hair and the soap she used. Not that I could tell you now exactly what scent it was. I was still concerned with her dream. Something powerful enough to shake a truck was nothing to take lightly.
"Chaz, I think there is something more we need to ask Jean." She started to get up, but waited for me, since only one of us could get up with enough grace out of that twisted position we were in. My legs were crossed on top of hers, so I had to move first.
Then I helped her up and we held each other as we squeezed down the narrow steps and out the front side door of the van.
Jean was there, waiting for us. Somehow, he had three iced coffees in his large hands. He'd turned on the awning bug light and set up the folding table and three chairs, like he knew we'd have questions. I moved my chair next to Hami's and also got my bedroll to put around her.
After I sat down and opened up my own drink, she snuggled back next to me, putting my arm around her shoulders again.
Jean was understanding, but wanted to know more. Still, he waited until Hami wanted to talk. We both did.
"It was one of those chases, some monster I couldn't see. And then I tripped and fell, but a long, long ways. Then I was caught by something - like a huge invisible spider's web. And no matter how I tried, I couldn't get out."
Jean quietly asked, "What were you feeling right then?"
"Fear. Pure fear."
"And what are you feeling right now?"
She looked at him with big eyes, and then looked into mine. "Love. Unconditional love."
"So that's what you have to remember at all times, in all situations. Let go of the Fear, the anger, all those negative emotions, and just find the love you always carry with you."
Hami frowned as she looked at him again. "But it was all so real."
"Regardless. That is the one lesson you have to keep with you. Lack of that is the only thing that can stop anything in its tracks. But love is also the universal solvent. Nothing can stand in its path." Jean looked away, into the darkness of the pre-dawn. "That is the one lesson that all the Lazurai had to learn and learned to pass on to everyone they meet. It's where anyyone draws their real power from."
He sipped his ice coffee. "Here's an example. Remember I told you that if you get angry, people could get sick and die? Well how come those gang-bangers, the ones that moved away got better? And do you remember after we walked away from that one heaving behind his car? What happened as we got away from him?"
Hami frowned. "I remember looking back. He stood up after that. Seemed fine."
"He was fine. If I wanted him hurt, he would have been. Seriously hurt. But that would do nothing, he would learn nothing. And that kid has a lot of lessons still to learn. He's got a lot of understandings to master. No matter how he gets treated, he has to decide what he's going to learn from every situation he gets himself into. Just as you two do. Just as all of us always have and always will."
Hami nodded and hugged me again.
Jean got up at that point. "Well, no real damage done to the truck or anything else around here." He picked up his own bedroll and pad. "It looks like we still have a couple of hours before dawn. I'll leave you two to talk it over." Then he turned and went around to the other side of the van.
We both just sat there and held each other. I pulled my bedroll across both our shoulders and in front of us to keep warm.
"Chaz, thanks. Again."
"Anytime, you know that."
"I do now, for certain." She looked out into the sky beyond the awning and the yellow bug-light. "Do you think someone knew more than we did - I mean about us?"
"Like we were going to get together sometime, or maybe that they wanted to see if they left us alone together..."
"Something like that, Chaz."
I just kissed the top of her head. "I don't know if we'll ever know for sure. Like it matters at all now."
And we held each other until it started lightening up in the eastern sky.
An overcast day after sleep interrupted by nightmares. Didn't seem like the best beginning to a day.
Other than watching a new sunrise in the arms of one you love, anyway.
VIII
THE LINES WERE SLOWER forming that day. Chaz rolled up all the bedrolls and Jean did a check of the supplies, like usual. I cleaned up the van and wiped down everything, turned the grill on low to warm up. Made sure I had enough order pads and backup pencils to take orders.
Jean took off to get our deliveries for the day, and I handed Chaz the condiments through the screen window. He then came in to scrape down the grill and put some buns on to warm.
The first in line stepped forward and the day started as usual.
Well, mostly usual. The lines were quieter, less jokes and talking. And fewer people in those lines. But it wasn't a Sunday or other holiday. After a few hours, I saw someone going backwards down the line talking to people. And most of the people he talked to left the line to move away. The bulk of them walked went over to the chain-link fence on the edge of the hospice parking lot. Some went further.
Then three cars came roaring in with a lurch through the entrance, then screeching to a halt. Two in front, and one in back.
Gang bangers. I recognized the face of that one who got sick the other night. He was still a sicko pasty-white, his skinny face sticking out of his dark hoodie and leather jacket. The rest crowded out and approached our van ahead of him, but he only came forward when he saw they weren't getting sick this time.
"Chaz." I nodded outside. A fast look and then he turned all the burners off and moved everything to the cooler back where it wouldn't start a fire from over-cooking.
Then took my hand in his.
"I'd like to place an order!" That was the sicko. "I'd like to order the two of you out of there so we can deal with you. Our way. This is our turf, and what we say goes!" He looked around to the rest of his guys, and they all nodded.
Yet their fear was tangible. We could feel it where we stood.
Chaz just held my hand tighter.
I leaned down to the window and opened up the screen. "So you're feeling better since last night? Listen, we only take orders for food. And we serve the best food you can get on this side of Kansas City - maybe in the whole of KC. So get in line and we'll help you get fed today. Have your cash or Welfare card ready and we'll get started."
Some of the gang bangers actually started moving behind that leader like they would rather be getting a burger than giving grief.
Sicko just glowered at them and pushed them back. "No. We don't want your food. We want to take some payment in kind out of you and your boyfriend. You've been serving up stuff without permission. You owe us! So you can start paying now, or we can make you pay a different way."
One of his goons started for the front van door. Chaz hit a big red button and all the doors and windows locked down. The awning rolled up on it's own.
The other goons moved in and started to bang their sticks on the Plexiglas. Then they picked up the edges of the van and started rocking it.
My eyes went wide, but Chaz just narrowed his. He turned to me and took both my hands.
"Remember this, Hami - I love you. No matter what. No matter why. I love you."
I nodded, with tears in my own eyes, not of fear or grief, but of understanding. "I love you, too. Forever and always. Now, let's get some real loving happening to those boys outside."
We both closed our eyes and saw the world from within. Emotions became colors. The darkest emotions also had the darkest colors. People had these colors surrounding them. Reds and oranges for some.
Ours were bluish. And we concentrated on pushing more love into each other and outward from there. I could see Chaz' face clearly, and I'm sure he could see mine as well. We were both smiling at this. Any yellow or tint of red was pushed back out away from us and we soon saw the familiar van insides as blue and whitish-blue outlines.
The rocking stopped. Without us opening our eyes, we saw them backing away their reds were going more yellow as their own fears started replacing their pent up anger. And they kept backing away.
We didn't open our eyes or let up. Chaz and I just kept pushing that love outward as fast as we could, as strong as we could. We saw them run back to their cars, but those were dead. By then our blue sphere was beyond their cars, and they piled out of them, holding onto their stomach and mouths, struggling to get away. Running or walking or crawling – just to get some distance from us.
We just kept moving the blue sphere outwards until they had all left the front gate on foot and were across the street. Many just kept running after that.
About then a huge thunderstorm let loose overhead and the entire area was pelted in thick rain, washing everything away.
IX
CHAZ AND I FELL INTO each other's arms and just held on to each other until the storm passed.
About then, Uncle Jean opened the van door and came up the steps. Somehow dry as a bone. "Well, I see you two love-birds don't need any help with gang-bangers." He was all smiles.
A patrol car came up with lights flashing. An officer in dripping rain gear came in behind Jean. "Is everything OK, anyone hurt?" Both Chaz and I shook our heads "no" and smiled. The officer smiled back. We could hear him shout to someone to “get those plates run”, and saw a police tow truck enter and back up into position behind one of the gang-banger's cars.
The crowd came back from the fences and up to the van see how we were doing. They hadn't gotten wet at all, for some reason. But were very glad that we were all OK.
Soon, after they helped us get the tables and chairs back, along with the awning rolled back down and everything cleaned up, they were all in line again. And then we were back at serving hungry customers like always.
- - - -
A FEW DAYS LATER, JEAN came back with some guy wearing a lab coat. He shook all our hands and thanked us over and over for all our help. Apparently this was the guy who had contracted with the company that recruited Jean and us. The quarantine had been lifted, and he was bringing back in his own cafeteria cooks and serving staff again.
About then a patrol car came by (they had been making regular rounds to visit us daily since the 'banger incident) but today it was the Police Chief himself who wanted to inspect the scene. Somehow, he didn't know why, but there had been a remarkable drop in crime in this area. People were taking care of little incidents on their own, while various known and notorious gang-bangers had either turned themselves in or been escorted by "friends or family members" into the local station house.
Our little food cart was ground zero for a circle that went out for blocks. They didn't even have to give out traffic or parking tickets. And so their extra officers were being reassigned to other precincts. He just came by to tell us all that, and thank us for being there.
Chaz and I were busy serving customers and didn't catch the exact conversation, especially when they moved their talking out of the van. (But I kept an eye on their gestures and asked Jean later about the details.)
Jean thanked both the lab coat guy and the police chief, and told them the sad news that we were moving on that night. But he had heard of several restaurants that had opened up in the last week, and more were in the plans. It seems that they “happened to come by" our little hospice parking lot and saw the long lines that stretched out of it and down the sidewalk.
And Jean pointed right across the street from us to one that had just opened up with big blue awnings. They had a walk-up window for only burgers and cheese combinations, just like ours. And they already had a long line. Then we saw Jean point down the block where a fast-food place with a drive-through was being renovated.
Both of those gentlemen shook Jean's hand again. And thanked him over and over.
The last of our line didn't take long to serve, and we had cleaned up and put away everything just as the clearing clouds were beginning to tinge red.
Jean did a final check of the truck while Chaz and I took our last full trash bag liner out to the roll-off bin by the gate. Hand in hand as we came back, smiling and relieved.
Jean was waiting for us with both damp and dry towels to clean up with, plus a couple of iced coffees.
Following him into the van, Chaz and I settled into the cozy bench seat and belted in. The truck started smoothly and Jean slowly rolled us out of that lot. Soon we were back on the interstate.
Darkness had fallen by then, and I snuggled up next to Chaz. He'd kept one of the bedrolls out, and covered us with it. The last thing I remembered was his kissing my head.
X
WHEN DAYLIGHT BROKE the scenery had changed.
While we expected to see rolling pastures with oaks and hickories and elms, we saw scrub brush, cacti, and junipers.
"Uncle Jean, where are we?"
I could see his reflection in the mirror above his head, his face smiling. "Nearly there, Chaz. Specifically, close to the border of Nevada and California. Technically, close to the middle of nowhere."
We were rolling down a two-lane highway now, the patched holes and tarred cracks were making the van bump every now and then as we moved along. The sky was clear, no real wind or traffic. Soon we turned off onto an old state blacktop road with barely a stripe on it. That took us a few miles into more desert. We finally saw what looked like a ghost town coming up ahead.
All that stood was a couple of buildings on one side. The biggest one was a two-story wood-frame structure with a squared off false front and a painted steel awning beneath it.
"Great place, isn't it kids?" Jean was beaming at this scene.
He pulled the van over right in front and shut down the engine. We all unbuckled and got out, with Uncle Jean almost jumping down the steps.
"Well, how do you like it?"
We saw big glass windows, cleaned to be nearly invisible, with simple curtains across their insides. Dual screen doors and what looked like a long bar inside. Several benches and chairs were waiting under that porch shade for locals. But no one was around to enjoy them.
I looked at Hami and then back at Jean. "Well, it needs some work. And the location isn't great. But that porch is in permanent shade on the north, so that's a feature."
"Chaz, I think you're missing the bigger picture here. Think of it as a graduation present."
I looked at Hami under my arm, and she looked up at me. Her face changed and she put her other hand as a shade in front of her forehead so she could read something above that awning.
I did the same. My jaw dropped.
The sign on the building front said "Ham & Chaz - Sandwiches, Etc."
Uncle Jean had to laugh at our faces. "Of course I'll be around for awhile to help set you up and get things running. But there are some other people who live around here you will want to meet.
Beyond him we saw several cars and trucks coming toward us from every direction of the compass, using dirt roads or paved. Taking their time.
Hami and I had a new home, and a new town, and a new family.
Together.
Notes: This now extends “The Lazurai” concept. Where an entire village of healers has sprung up and raised children. More background to this phenomenon. Of course, these two teenagers are thrown together to fall in love. With a little humor at the end with the HEA.