Condiments

bbq sauce

bbq sauce

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When I arrived at 9:59pm, four days later, the door was locked. The glowing blue and red Open sign was off. I looked through the window just in time to see a man flick the light switch, covering the store in darkness.

Looking back on it, what I did was weird. If I were that man, I would’ve cried out for help. Possibly peed in my pants. But, I wasn’t thinking properly and I hadn’t been thinking properly since I met Karen. So, I lurked about in the back of the Subway, completely hidden by the night and waited for him to exit.

He emerged a few minutes later, in a t-shirt and jeans. I could distinguish his elongated nose and bushy eyebrows in the dark. I followed close behind as he walked towards his car.

“Hey,” I yelled. My usually thin voice boomed in the silence.

He cursed and dropped his keys. “I only got twenty dollars in my wallet. You can have it,” he said.

“I don’t want your money. I’m looking for Karen.”

“Karen? You snuck up on me at night lookin’ for Karen? Well, she ain’t here,” he muttered in a deep country accent.

He stooped over and slid his hands around, searching for his keys. I easily spotted them an inch away from his front tire. As he continued to crawl around, I picked them up and twirled the lanyard around my fingers.

“Do you know where she is?” I asked.

“Why should I care? To hell with Karen, making me work the night shift.”

I glared down at him. It was fruitless since he couldn’t see my face. “I won’t return your keys if you don’t tell me where she is,” I stated.

The man looked up. “I ain’t into games, boy. Gimme the keys.”

“Where is she?”

He stood up and lunged for them. “I’m serious!” he shouted.

“I’m serious, too! Where is she?” I yanked the keys out of his reach. For once, being tall was an advantage.

“I don’t know! I don’t talk to Karen. All I know is that she cancelled last minute and now, I gotta cover her shift for awhile,” he said.

She was gone. How was I stupid enough not to get any of her information? No phone number. No last name. No school. Nothing. I handed him his keys. “Sorry for the trouble. If you see her soon, can you tell her Adam stopped by?”

He unlocked his car and paused. “Adam? I shoulda known it was you.”

“What?”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a sauce packet. He placed it in my hands. “She told me to give this to you. It’s barbeque sauce. She said the weather’s gettin’ hotter and it’ll taste good cos’ it taste smoky. Or something like that,” he said.

The sticky, humid air and my sweaty palm holding the packet indicated the intensifying heat. She didn’t quit her job, so she was still in town. She had to be here, somewhere. I thanked him and left.