How to Punch Soren McKinin | ✓

32. the heartless and the mindless

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J A Y

It was warm in the cafe, wind billows the trees taking the last of dead autumn leaves.

I walked across the room and placed the change for the coffee and biscuits in front of the aging women, I didn't hear her say thank you as my mind tugged on other thoughts.

I couldn't help but think of the day before. Soren had just stood there, a gun pointed at his head. Not blinking, as calmly as if he was greeting an old friend.

As horrible as it sounds, I do not think that was the first time he had a gun to his head.

The old lady took ahold of my wrist as I gripped her empty coffee mug, "It's nice to see young folk working after school, everyone at your age seems to be looking down at those silly phones." I smiled kindly as I took the dishes out of site.

Soren had just stood there, his breathing at an even pace. He wasn't afraid of death, as I shamelessly cowered behind him.

Caleb rolled his shoulders as if they were sore while we stood next to each other. I'd grown to like my co worker, even though he was late most days and his sarcastic tone pitched a nerve. Yet, he never ceased to make me smile.

"That damn old lady won't leave, we could've closed half an hour ago." He whined as I gave the dirty coffee mud to the chef, who passed it to the bus boy, "She doesn't even use our free internet! She just sits at that same damn chair and stares out that same window, watching people walk past."

My gaze fell upon her. She stood gingerly, her chair scraping against the wooden floor. She picked up her purse, smiled at me softly before shuffling out of the café. I watched in horror as she turned the corner only to be pushed to the ground heavily as Soren came into view, the old lady lay in the snow.

My legs stiff, I ran to the door as the puffing big pulled the flustered lady to her feet, catching his words as I opened the door, "Shit, sorry. There's ice—did you break anything?—back there on the pavement."

She fixed her hat, "No, no. I think I'm alright."
Soren put a hand through his hair before rubbing the back of neck, "I'd drive you home in this weather but I lost my licence due to taking illegal drugs—wait! I'm not a drug addict--" she took her bag and whacked him over the head.

Soren grumbled sorry and cursed as the lady shuffled off.

He turned to me flustered, "See, this is exactly why I hate winter."

"You getting hit over the head by an old lady in winter is an usual event?" I grinned at him, watching a scowl form over his lips as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"I was running, not my fault." He took a deep deep breath, "Red got caught with Sandra. He's leaving, I thought you should know."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, "Leaving as in—"

He interrupted, "Leaving as in he's moving out. Apparently his plan is to move into a dorm in his college, Sandra lives thirty or so minutes away."