Classic Rock Shorts

Maycury: Bakery

I walk down the street, the rain coming down hard. It even seemed to move the trees as the tops whip back and forth. I'm tired and hungry, I can’t believe my band worked me until late again. Enough was enough and I had quit. Now I was out of a job but at least I could sleep and go to college instead of college, band, eat. I really need to sleep more, and eat more. Noodles cups aren’t a healthy diet and I can’t keep eating them daily. My roommates love those damn cup noodles. So cheap, so unhealthy.

I pull the collar of my coat up and keep walking as the rain seems to come down harder and harder. It gets colder too. My nose gets numbed as I walk. All the shops are closed and dreary, cold and lonely. Then there’s a warm glow of shop and through the rain I can smell a delicious smell that makes my stomach howl. I stop at the glowing warm light and push the door. The bell chimes softly as the door opens  and I'm blasted with heat. I stand there in the doorway like a soaked rat.

A man with his curly hair tied back comes out from the back and around the counter, "Are you okay sir?"

"Yeah, I just needed somewhere to warm up." I looked down,  "Sorry if you're closed." I'm going to leave when he stops me. 

"Hey, come follow me." 

I slowly followed behind the man after all the man could put me in a meat pie.

The man let's me sit on a stool by the roaring ovens. It was still hot and I was grateful that the baker was offering me goods that they didn't sell in time.

"I'm Freddie. I forgot to introduce myself." I look up at him,

"Brian, I own May Bakery." 

We shake hands and I keep stuffing my face with goodies until I'm full and nearly bloated. I didn't know when my next meal would be.

"Are you any good at baking?" Brian asks beating some dough into submission,

"I burn cereal." I joke,

"Guess I can show you some tips and tricks then. Go wash up." Brian says. He loves being a teacher. 

I wash my  hands thoroughly and gets to helping Brian. Brian takes his hands and demonstrates how the kneading and cooking process would go. It's the first time I ever had homemade bread. It tastes heavenly. 

Once all the night duties are said and done Brian turns off the lights slowly. He gathers up the unsold food and goodies into two baskets. Brian hands me one,

"Come back tomorrow for more." Brian squeezes my arm. 

We parted ways and I felt a little sad about it. Brian was a really great guy. I went down to Princeton Lane and Brian upstairs in his bakery.  I come back the next day and a young brunet is working at the counter. He's young looking, he's either a junior or senior in high school.

 I clear my throat,  "Hello, I'm looking for Brian May. He's the owner." 

The boy whose name tag reads, "John D." glances back, "Hey Mr. May!! Some guy wants your services!!"

Brian came out his apron and face had splatters of flour and jams on it, "We'll work on rephrasing later." 

He takes me into his office, "How may I help you?" 

"You said to come back tomorrow."  I remind him in a soft voice, “Did you forget me.”

Brian takes a moment before he claps and shakes his head, “Okay! Okay! Hang on! Hang on!" Brian heads out of the office and comes back with a small basket of goodies, "Here you go, Freddie." 

After that  I was welcomed back countless times. It felt great, a second family is great. Home away from home. I became family to Brian and was allowed to graze in the back of the store after a while. Brian taught  me every trick in the book. Even if I  burned water I could still make a mean stuffed pastry. The strawberry ones are my favorite but don’t tell Brian he loves the apple ones.

It was closing time again, the tap dripped softly. It was late and cold out there but cozy and warm inside. They were the only shop with the lights on. The rest were closed for the day and the coldness took them over.

I leaned against the large steel sink, the cold seeping through my shirt. I watched with curious eyes as Brian finished the nightly chores. It smells strongly of cleaners now.

"Ready to head home?" Brian asks with a yawn, "John's boyfriend Roger picked him up an hour ago so we can leave now."

 I didn't realize how tired he was until Brian started to yawn then he yawned more, "Yeah bed sounds lovely." 

Brian looks at his pocket watch, it's old and chipping, "You missed your bus… looks like you're bunking with me tonight."  I nod picking at a stain on the table absentmindedly, "Hope you don't mind sharing a bed." 

 I smile shyly, pulling my lip over my teeth, "You know I wouldn't mind at all." 

I give Brian a look making Brian blush a bright hue, pinker than his rose scones. As we walk upstairs to Brian's little apartment Brian takes my hand and the rain starts to fall. But I'm safe and warm this time…

“And that, my dear, is how me and your father fell in love.” I said as I teach my daughter Louise how to make bread dough, 

Louise smiles at me brightly. She is missing her front tooth, she has Brian’s curls and my dark ebony hair. She’ll be a heartbreaker when she’s older. In the corner of my eye I see my one and half year old son Andrew sitting on the floor playing with bowls and some flour. He looks so much like Brian. 

The back door opens and Brian comes in with groceries for the bakery. The kids come charging at him screaming. I wouldn’t change this life for anything.