《The Galleria At Crossroads》 1: T-3, Apocalypse Coffee, 12/14/2024 Gilgamesh Grocery Locally Owned, Intl. Known! 1800 NE 8th, Bellevue, Washington, 98008 First Floor of the Galleria at Crossroads! Hours: 6 AM - 10 PM Mon - Sun 12/14/2024 - 11:58:03 Entry: Cash Immortal Savings Member: Riley, Kat Dairy: Gilgamilk Milk 2% Gal 3 @ 4.39 Each ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 13.17 F Gilgamilk Milk 1% Gal 2 @ 4.39 Each ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 8.78 F Gilgamilk Milk Whole Gal 3 @ 4.39 Each ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 13.17 F Grain Planet Oat Milk 1 Ca 1 @ 3.79 Member @ 2.50 ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 2.50 F Gilgameal Van Meal Shake 1 @ 2.49 Each ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 2.49 F Candy: Super Fresh Mint Gum 1@ 1.79 Each ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 1.79 F Subtotal ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 41.9 Sales Tax ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 4.27 Total ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 46.17 Cash ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 50.00 Change ¡­¡­¡­¡­ 3.83 Cashier: Diop, Mary Code: 0019 Thank you for Shopping at Gilgamesh Grocery
Kat let out a low curse as the fickle light dimly directing the intersection by the main entrance to the Galleria at Crossroads flickered green for a moment, then to orange for a heart beat, before suddenly flashing red. She gunned her old Ford Fiesta through a narrow turn, barely making the turn - with mere inches between her hoopty and the big white box truck that came flying down the hill. The old car coughed and stalled on the outside of the turn, but Kat viciously kicked one foot over the shift, braced it against the console, and hefted her narrow frame towards the front right tire while gunning the gas. It roared back to life, though it was more like a cornered animal than a lunging predator. The car skittered around the perimeter of the tall strip mall and slunk into the part in the brick wall, festooned in cheap plastic Christmas banners, to crawl into the employee parking lot. Collapsing with a sputtering sigh into the open spot marked ¡°T-3¡±, the car finally stalled and died. Kat sat back and patted the console warily. ¡°I hit the payment on the loans this week, I get paid the week after, maybe someone picks up an article and pays, get lucky on Craigslist, I could replace you in two weeks.¡± She rapt a cracked knuckle on the steering wheel, causing the old beast to shiver in fear, ¡°If you hold out that long, I¡¯ll make sure you don¡¯t go to the compactor, okay?¡± The creaking response as the frame settled was enough acknowledgement for her and she moved her attention to the other cars in the lot. Kat saw her coworker¡¯s pristine silver sedan parked in the other T-3 spot. He was a quiet guy who¡¯s name she¡¯d never caught, but he made the best espresso she, or indeed most anyone that visited their shop, had ever tasted. Kat also spotted the annoying boy from the board game shop that kept coming back no matter how rude she was to him - and she¡¯d upped her game by orders of magnitude since he¡¯d begun his twice-daily visits. The lanky barista let out a sigh and sat lower in her gritty fabric seat, considering if she could afford to call out. A student at the local trade college, she¡¯d found herself coming to work hours early to study in the boba cafe downstairs, leaving her plenty of time for the two hour window her bosses had generously afforded their few employees. She weighed the options as the temperature quickly dropped in the car. With the engine off, the thin windows welcomed in the dreary Washington winter chill without hesitation and quickly made her decision for her. Besides, she reasoned, she was already there. Might as well get a step closer to replacing the jalopy. Kat unfolded her spindly frame from the small car and extracted her backpack from the back seat via the window, as the door hadn¡¯t opened in a decade. She locked it and quickly loped through the small parking lot to the north of the building in a futile attempt to outrun the drizzle. The light rain got lost in her nest of frazzled honey-blonde hair and attempted to log in to her phone as she checked the time. 11:32, plenty of time to get a few dozen lines of code - and a few hundred bugs - into the prototype before work. Perhaps it was the rain, but there was a strange scent in the air, something clean, but¡­ off. Kat rounded the building and took a quick glance at the customer parking lot. Between the lot and the first row of units, a bicycle rack held a cheery blue cruiser that had been painted with intricate yellow roses. A lack of a matching green bike let her know her boss''s boss, and wife, was not in today. As Kat waited for the North Elevator to arrive, she picked at her paint-stained overalls and turned sour thoughts of annoying people potentially plaguing her over in her head. For every bit as kind as Summer Yates was, Emi Yates was intense, an energy Kat did not feel like dealing with today. Or most any day. Plus the board game man. Boy. Child. He was better adjusted as far as their type goes, shaved and showered at least, but she¡¯d been pushed out of more than enough Magic the Gathering groups to know his type. The elevator chimed and she stepped in, holding her breath and fixing her gaze on the small window on the far wall. She punched ¡°T¡± for ¡°Ferris Terrace¡± and bounced in place as the doors closed, doing nothing to stop the chill nor the strange smell lingering in the air. Before her, the city of Bellevue zoomed out, an abstract painting of evergreen tree tops and apartments and, in the distance, the much more popular mall that was slowly leeching life from the Galleria, one customer at a time. The Crossroads Mall.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Kat accidentally let her breath out to give a huff of indignation and found that she could not refill her lungs. Instead, the walls pulled in closer with each attempted inhalation, crushi- The doors behind her slid open and she practically threw herself out of the elevator with a steady stream of belligerent cussing, splitting her ire between the narrow box and the voice in the back of her head mocking her weakness. Her eyes flicked around to assure no one was watching, scanning the north side of the terrace, which was covered by a series of fashionable and surprisingly effective sails that had yellowed with time. Unfortunately, a few were, in fact, eyeing her outburst - a gaggle of teenagers stared back at her from a nearby table, most of them seated on top of the cold bolted steel. ¡°You good?¡± one of them squawked, his hands pressed around a steaming cardboard cup with ¡°Apocalypse Coffee¡± printed on the side. ¡°Yeah, uh¡­¡± Kat groped for something less embarrassing to blame her reaction on, landing on one of the thousands of spiders that regularly inhabited the mall. ¡°A very big spider, just sort of¡­ caught me by surprise.¡± ¡°Oh, say no more fam!¡± another teen crowed and for a blinding second, Kat wondered if she was ever so¡­ young. She cringed inwardly, apologizing to the sacrificial spider as the teens surged past her and into the elevator. She quickly moved towards the coffee kiosk at the far end of the covered area where she could see someone bravely managing a surprisingly long line for the time and weather while another inside was pumping out drinks at breakneck speeds. A cheer went up behind her and she turned to see the teen that had talked to her had tossed his drink across the cement and had just successfully captured the spider. They charged out of the elevator and down the stairs, chanting something about returning it to nature. ¡°KAT!¡± a voice called, drawing her out of her muddled thoughts. She hustled over to the kiosk - she was perhaps being inconsiderate, she thought, as it was affixed to the building and larger than the drive-up coffee stands that littered the state¡­ but it was certainly not big enough to be called a store - and hopped inside. ¡°How¡¯s it?¡± she called over the steam of the frother, giving a quick head bob to the barista who was clearly too dialed in to notice, and to Summer, who gave her a dazzling, if frazzled, smile in return. ¡°Oh, busy! Big order from downstairs, then the highschool had a football game that just ended so they¡¯re out in force! Here¡¯s your change,¡± she added, though she still spoke it to Kat despite handing the coins out the window. ¡°You¡¯re on at three? That¡¯s perfect, but can you do me a favor?¡± Kat nodded twice, and, holding her breath once more, kicked the door open to the empty, tiny backroom that served as office, stockroom, and dishpit all in one. She slammed open the fridge, snatched a jug out, and then bounced out of the back as quickly as she¡¯d come in. ¡°Just a lowfat, you need me to get more?¡± ¡°Oh, that would be wonderful!¡± Summer beamed and passed her a fifty from the till without ringing it - something Emi would notice and sternly remind her of later, Kat was sure. ¡°Take the dolly and stock us up, pretty please! And take five or so for yourself for the trouble!¡± Kat gave a quick salute, wrestled the folding cart from behind the door, and slipped out of the chaotic scene. Over the warm smell of coffee and warming baked goods, she could still smell the scent of¡­ what was it? Wood shop? Yes¡­ but also no. She mulled it over as her knock-off, kitchen safe Converse skittered down the steps to the second floor. She stepped out of the stairwell to check the Oh Me! Bakery¡¯s meager dozen or so seats, all full of chattering teens and a few harrowed customers, and her dark thoughts grew ever more clouded. One more floor down, she returned to the ground floor where the Gilgamesh Grocery took up most of the level, save for a couple of restaurants and a few empty units. As she loaded the cart up with a variety of milks and dinner for the night, she considered if it was the soldering iron from shop class in highschool. Or perhaps, science class, when they had built steam engines and tesla coils. As she checked out, she thought, yes, like steam and electricity. Kat took her receipt as the word ¡°Ozone¡± drifted, slightly uselessly as she did not know exactly what it was, through her mind. A rumble passed through the parking lot and the rain began to fall in long, delicate sheets with a sudden wind sending the heavy drops against the Gilgamesh Grocery glass like millions of fingers on the head of a single taught drum. Kat cursed once more and turned to eye the central elevator. The Galleria at Crossroads had three elevators, one at the north, one at the south, and this one, dead center of the Gilgamesh Grocery, running up to the terrace and down to the sublevel below. It also had a shorter run in the rain, from the Ferris Terrace exit to the covered area of the terrace, as opposed to half the building to reach the north elevator. However, it didn¡¯t have a window. ¡°However, you¡¯re a fucking adult.¡± Kat growled to herself as she pressed the button, taking deep, calming breaths before stepping in. ¡°You¡¯re in control. You¡¯re-¡± The doors closed behind her and she slammed the button for the terrace. Despite holding her breath, the smell was getting almost heady now, reaching its cloying scent into her brain. The elevator lurched upwards. It slid past the second level, chiming weakly. The lights flickered. The elevator stopped. Kat struggled, gripping the handle of the cart until her knuckles were white with the effort. Kat dropped to her knees. Kat let out her breath and for a moment, time stood still as she tried desperately to refill them. The walls slid closer, leaning over her and smothering her as the light winked and went completely dark. Her fears, made true, she was trapped between floors in the tiny elevator. In that absolute blackness, breathless, overwhelming smallness, Kat could swear that she could see things. Strange things, brilliant lights of indescribable colors shimmering through the crack in the doors and the gaps in the speckled ceiling tiles. She could see the Earth itself shrink away into inky blackness and she could see the sky shrink away into an ever vanishing square as she fell down the chimney of an abandoned roof in a part of town she shouldn¡¯t have been anyway. She spent hours there, as she did as a rambunctious teen, trapped with her arms crimped to her chest in the ever narrowing space with the air growing thicker and harder to breath. Then, the lights returned and the elevator slid the last foot, its door opening with a cheery chime. Kat stumbled out of the tiny box and threw herself, sprawling onto her back, into the terrace, taking deep, gasping, greedy lungfuls of wide, freely open air. The warm, wet terrace floor was hard on a frame too thin to get stuck anywhere ever again, quickly reminding her that she needed to get under cover. She sat up, gathering the milks back into the cart, and searched the sun dappled terrace to make sure no one was watching. This time, there wasn¡¯t. Instead, her boss hung halfway out of the window, mouth agape as she stared into the sky. Kat followed her gaze as she hustled over, eyeing the small ferris wheel that sat unused for the winter at the south end of the terrace, now glittering with rain water in the brilliant sun. Then she noticed, with a start, that it was no longer raining. In fact, the sky was bright and sunny and clear, far clearer than most any day so far north. She could see to the horizon from here¡­ Which was impossible. Bellevue was ringed by tall hills and dense coniferous forests. Kat¡¯s hustled steps slowed to a meandering stop as she also stared at the sky, eyes wide with awe, then narrowing with confusion. This was not heaven and she had not died on that elevator, so what was going on? ¡°Kat?¡± Summer¡¯s voice came drifting shakily from the window, ¡°did you see that light? D-did you see the customers? They-¡± Kat rushed over, eyebrows furrowed with concentration as she scoured the floor for remains. ¡°Did they melt? Transform into bats?¡± ¡°No, just¡­¡± Summer responded with uncertainty, ¡°faded away.¡± A shout from the lower level brought Kat¡¯s attention and she rushed to the bannister overlooking the customer parking. Below, the staff she knew well from the Oh Me! Bakery were leaning over the railing on their level and glancing around warily. Below them, the staff of the Willy¡¯s fast food joint were wandering into the parking lot. The lot itself was filled with cars, including the Mexican food truck that was only there on weekdays, but, beyond the lot¡­ was nothing. Well, not nothing, but practically. Gold and blue stalks of some strange grain waved in ripples with huge gusts of wind that scoured the open plains interrupted only by low rolling hills and many copses of thin, but densely packed trees. She caught the glimmer of a lake bending around them, almost touching a steady river that rushed behind the building and out south, into a glittering bay some ways off. Summer appeared at her side and the quiet coworker beside her, a coffee tamp still gripped in his hand. ¡°Where are we?¡± Summer breathed, half reverently, half in fear. ¡°Mississippi?¡± Kat¡¯s coworker guessed, the first words she¡¯d heard him utter in the year she¡¯d known him. ¡°Emi.¡± Summer suddenly said, turning sharply to lock big brown doe eyes on Kat, the dread in her voice sending shivers down Kat¡¯s spine. She repeated, louder, then louder still. ¡°Emi! EMILIA! NO!¡± ¡°Summer!¡± a voice responded far behind, and all three turned to the coffee stand. Stepping out, the other owner of Apocalypse Coffee came running over to the trio while Portia the part-timer stepped bemusedly out of the back office. The Yates¡¯ embraced under the brilliant, if slightly green, rays of the new sun overhead. They repeated their motto back and forth as the curious faces of their downstairs neighbors appeared in the stairwells, coming to find out if they knew anything more than anyone else. ¡°If we have each other,¡± they said in half laughing, half crying mumbles, ¡°we can get through the apocalypse!¡± 2: T-2, Covered Seating, 12/14/2024 Apocalypse Coffee Coffee at the end of the world & top of the mall Items: Mocha Frap¡­¡­¡­¡­8.49 Green Tea Shaker¡­..5.99 Subtotal: 14.48 Tip: 0.00 Total: 15.93 Card: XXXXXXXXXXXX- XX1F95 Pin: Accepted Daily Wisdom: Most dolphins probably h- ate you. It¡¯s not personal. Thanks! Have a Great Day
Draygon Wynters handed the cold water and cold, frothy green drink to Zoe Butler, who gave him a warm feeling inside whenever he made eye contact with her, then took his own cold brown and white sugar monstrosity. She liked cold drinks, that was something he also liked about her. Truthfully, this wasn¡¯t the first or only girl that gave Draygon that feeling, as his friend Pancho ¡°Flips¡± Guerrera, who taught him how to ride mountain trails, still called him ¡°Symp Wynters¡±. But Draygon could feel that this was different, this was¡­ she was special, he knew it. ¡°Pog.¡± Zoe said under her breath and a grin split Draygon¡¯s face. ¡°POG!¡± He repeated, screaming it to the heavens. That was the fun of the outdoor mall. He could be himself and not get chased out by security - most of the time. He glanced at Zoe, who winced at the noise but smiled at the chorus of chants his group of friends took up at once. Pancho, of course, but also his homie Trisha ¡°Billie¡± Billingson and her boyfriend, Quentin ¡°Q¡± Phillips plus a few homies of theirs Draygon¡¯d met a few hours before and become instant besties with. It started as a double date, but they¡¯d run into some friends and they met friends, some split off, some rejoined - how it always goes. Those that stuck around under the awnings on the top floor were the few that thought ahead and brought thick jackets for the outdoor mall in the predictably rainy Pacific Northwest. The chants died down as Q, who¡¯d once given Draygon a ride home despite living on the other side of town, sneezed and Billie, who¡¯d hidden weed for Draygon for years because her parents didn¡¯t care, thumped him on the back. ¡°Damn, dude¡±, Q sniffled, ¡°this stank got me cooked.¡± ¡°Allergies?¡± Billie asked sympathetically. ¡°In December?¡± Zoe asked, her tone more curious than doubtful. She was so nice, not constantly out to dogpile each other like Draygon and his cliche. ¡°Yeah, Trisha,¡± drawled Gregory ¡°Greg¡±, Jackson, ¡°Allergies in December? In this rain? You absolute fool!¡± Jeers rose and fell, Zoe looking slightly alarmed at what she¡¯d accidentally caused, but Billie took it in good fun. She gave Greg, who¡¯d never gone in for what he¡¯d called the ¡°stupid fucking baby-gangster nicknames¡±, a double middle finger salute and went back to consoling Q. He gave her a cheery finger in return and went back to his black coffee and judgemental silence. Draygon took a sniff of the air himself and nodded, ¡°No, Q¡¯s got a point, it smells funny.¡± ¡°You smell funny.¡± Flip snipped and a laugh rolled through the group like thunder. Draygon laughed loudest, and stole a glance at Zoe to make sure she didn¡¯t think, not seriously, that he smelled funny. He¡¯d been jumping around a lot all day¡­Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! He would die. His momentary panic was interrupted as the elevator behind them opened and a grumpy looking lady spilled out onto the floor in a flurry of words he¡¯d only heard his friends say in public. ¡°You good?¡± Greg called, glancing back and forth between the woman and the group at large. She responded something weak about a big spider inside and Draygon quickly recognized an opportunity. Save the spider, and in so doing, save the lady from her cringe display and more importantly¡­ save his image in front of Zoe, who helped ducks cross the street before getting on the bus once last spring. ¡°Oh, say no more fam!¡± Draygon announced and pushed off of the table, almost eating shit before recovering and leading the charge to the elevator. The rest of the group, those that had their drinks at least, followed eagerly behind to see what he could possibly be up to and if they could squeeze a little entertainment out of it. The spider in the elevator was, in fact, rather massive, and it took Draygon a few seconds to decide if his first plan, simply grabbing it in a cupped palm, was the best one. Still, with a dozen eyes on his back - with ZOE¡¯s eyes on his back, he couldn¡¯t just do nothing. ¡°Stand back!¡± he announced and the group let out a little ooh, then a cheer as the flipped whipped mocha cookie monster went splashing across the cement like a mudslide, leaving froth flotsam and brownie slag behind the wave. He ushered the spider into the cup still dripping with mocha chips and sugar, and strutted past Zoe, who held out an empty water cup slightly dumbfoundedly. What was her expression? Annoyance? Did she hate him for not using the cup she offered? Panic sent chills down Draygon¡¯s spine as he pelted down the stairs, keeping an eye on the arachnid that had become mired in sauce at the bottom of the cup. ¡°We¡¯re bringing it back to nature, we¡¯re bringing it back to nature!¡± he sang, ¡°we¡¯re bringing it back to nature, it¡¯s going back where it¡¯s from!¡± It was a song his sister Shan, who¡¯d shown him how to throw a punch, always sang when she helped moths out of their porch. It was a song his friends, Q, Billie, Zoe, even Greg chanted as the wound around the north stairwell and poured out east, jumping the chest-high wall that surrounded the customer parking lot and jaywalking to the small forest that separated this mall from the megachurch up the hill. ¡°FREEDOM!¡± Draygon screamed and hucked the spider, cup and all, into the forest. He turned back to his friends and raised a fist in the sky. Q sneezed. Light filled the sky. Brilliant, effervescent undulations of pinks and greens and colours indescribable to the human brain. They twisted and screamed across the strip of sky visible between trees blown back by the sudden winds. The world hesitated for a moment, reconsidering reality in the brief sliver of a second that reached beyond comprehension. Suddenly, they were standing in the parking lot of a small apartment complex. The plastic cold coffee cup bounced along the pavement a few yards away and rolled under a parked car. ¡°What?¡± Greg asked flatly. Draygon looked around, wondering where they were. A street sign told them 8th, which should have been correct, but there was never any apartments here, just some trees and a gas station across the street. The gas station was gone too, replaced by an oddly angled access to a nice neighborhood. ¡°Look,¡± Zoe said breathlessly, ¡°Church Center¡¯s gone.¡± First, all Draygon could notice was how she clung to his arm. Zoe, who once asked for his number before he knew he¡¯d even liked her, pointed to a weathered parking lot where a tiny church, same name and denomination, but tiny and empty, sat in its place. It was this seemilngly unrelated discrepancy above all that sent chills up his spine to whisper terror into his young mind. His hands closed around Zoe¡¯s and for a moment, they supported each other in the face of an unstable reality. Draygon¡¯s gaze turned back down the hill, where a crowd of people were starting to pick their way out of the woods. They stepped over the metal barrier between a steep wooded valley and a quickly moving road, scrambling for the open parking lot of the apartments, each appearing as confused as the teens. ¡°The mall¡¯s gone.¡± Billie observed. For once, the brassy voice that always got them in trouble when they ¡°whispered¡± in class, was hushed in awe. ¡°No way!¡± Q began to gibber, ¡°No way, no how, now way, no how.¡± But it was, truly and completely, gone. Not just gone as if destroyed, but replaced as though it had never been. Draygon stumbled down the hillside, even the sidewalk on this side of the road having been un-developed and removed from existence. Sure enough, the mall was gone. He was jostled to the side, further and further, as people, customers and classmates and homies he¡¯d hung out with earlier that day all made their way up the valley and out of the woods. Draygon could see a few on the other side of the valley, climbing fences into people¡¯s backyards and navigating to the small sidestreet beyond. Surely, though, it had been there before. The mall HAD been real, right? They were all there for some reason, right? It had been there! There were the people, his cup, his - he pulled the receipt out of his pocket, unfolding it furiously to read and reread it - yes, his order, his card number, everything. So where did it go? Draygon¡¯s heart slammed in his ears, his limbs cold and shaking. ¡°Dray, I¡­¡± Draygon startled, realizing Zoe, who was just as lost as he, still held his arm. Her eyes were watering, searching the forest for some sense in the situation. He pulled her into a tight hug. Not a simp hug, not the hug of a confident bro looking to finally get laid. The hug of a confused, scared teenager looking for comfort in another. He didn¡¯t understand what had just happened, but he knew he had just bore witness, in the rain and the burn of ozone still lingering in the air, to something otherworldly and wrong. 3: Customer Parking, Best of Baja, 12/14/2024 From: [email protected] Subject: Receipt for BEST OF BAJA on 12/14 Hello, Here is your receipt for your order at: BEST OF BAJA. 1x Mulitas Plate 12.95 12.95 1x 3 Quesa-Birrias 13.95 13.95 5x UNDEFINED ITEM 1.95 9.75 2x Fountain Horchata 3.95 7.90 Subtotal: 44.55 Tax: 4.56 Tip: 8.91 Total: $58.02 Thank you for your patronage! Rectangle Retail is a third party payment service. For complaints regarding your order, please contact your card or the vendor. For technical issues, please contact our IT team at [email protected]
Maria Evita Perez sat in stunned silence in the driver''s seat of Best of Baja, eyes locked on a beautiful sun drenched sky through the yellowing windshield. Her heart raced and her breathing began to come in choked starts. Golden fields and blue skies, oh yes, madre de dio, she had been called home in the middle of her afternoon nap. She set her jaw and sat up to lean her pudgy, arthritic hands on the wheel and squeezed it until her breath came under control. She slowly shook her head, her heavy face quivering with a whirlpool of conflicting emotions and she gripped the cross dangling at her neck. Was it really her time? After surviving so much? Had the Lord really forgiven her for everything she¡¯d done? What of her family? Her poor brilliant daughter, her fat, happy little grandson, her sweet, clueless husband¡­ ¡°Mama? Que es¡­? Mama did you see that?¡± Maria whipped around in the seat to see her family crammed into the back of the long food truck, her daughter stepping around little Marco to peer through the windshield. Everyone was there, even her good for nothing brother and her daughter¡¯s idiot husband. ¡°No, por favor no¡± Maria breathed, pale eyes widening in horror as she realized the Lord had not taken her soul alone. ¡°Not you too, me, si, esta logico, pero tu¡­ Marco Antonio, it¡¯s too soon¡­!¡± ¡°Mama, please, hold on!¡± Sweet Franchesca took her by the shoulders and gently guided her mother back to the creaky leather seat. She did her best to stay calm, bless her, but Maria could see her daughter glance past her to take a look at the Kingdom of Heaven for herself with fear in her eyes. ¡°Mamita, we don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, but I know we¡¯re not dead, si? Do I look dead to you Mama?¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Fran turned to men standing idly in the back and snapped her fingers, drawing them to attention at once. ¡°Hey! John Paul!¡± Her husband, a lanky guero with thick horn-rimmed glasses and a vile, malvado beard startled guiltily, quickly shutting the serving window he¡¯d been peeking from. ¡°Yes, my love?¡± ¡°Can you go see if anyone¡¯s out there might know something?¡± ¡°Mama!¡± Marco chirped, tugging at his father¡¯s sleeve. ¡°Of course, love. Should I take Marco or Bella?¡± ¡°Mama!!¡± ¡°No, but take Nacho before he and Mama get into it, yeah?¡± ¡°Mamaa?¡± ¡°Sounds good, dear. Be back in a minute. Ignacio, shall we?¡± ¡°Si, como sea, pero no s¨¦ a qu¨¦ se refiere con ¡®get into it¡¯.¡± ¡°MAMA!!¡± Maria sat back in her chair, turning her pale face to the sun and closing her eyes, giving thanks to the Almighty that someone here still had some sense, even if it was not herself. So be it, it¡¯s what she worked so hard for. If she still had her family it would be okay - Heaven, Earth, somewhere else - no matter. Still¡­ She watched her daughter bustle about the truck, getting the open containers of food packed away and Nacho¡¯s FN Five-Seven out from under the grease hood. She watched her grandson passively beg for her attention and felt the fight melt from her weary bones. If they were not in Heaven, they were in Hell. If they were in Hell, they would have been separated, as there was no way any of their sins would ever equal hers. So they were somewhere else, with nothing but this truck and the clothes on their back. So, Maria reasoned, vuelvo al punto de partida, back to homelessness, having nothing, being nothing. Years on the streets being kicked and chased, years serving errands to low level thugs to get a place to live. Years of sinful, bloody, demeaning work. Work to get into trouble, work to get out, work to run away from her old work, only to work hard every day in the new country. A home for a family she vowed to give a better life than she could have imagined as a vagrant child¡­ and then, in a nap-ruining flash of light, all of that work was taken away. Tears came to the old woman¡¯s tired eyes, try as she might to keep them down. What good would it be to try again, if another act of God can just take it all away once more? Why try? Maria glared out over the gently rolling landscape, shaking with the effort of keeping the Devil¡¯s grip from her heart yet again. Despondency, pure waves of pure failure, washed through her body like ice poured straight into her veins. ¡°MAMA!¡± ¡°WHAT, MARCO?! WHAT, WHAT IS IT?¡± The roaring response of her daughter shook the truck, jolting Maria from her impending catatonia to sit up straight. The volume wasn¡¯t the unexpected part, it was normal whenever Marco, bless his young heart, got belligerent. It was the crack in her strong daughter¡¯s voice. ¡°What is it Marco-tonio?¡± She breathed carefully, kneeling to take his face in her shaking hands. ¡°Mama.¡± ¡°Yes, sweetheart.¡± ¡°Mom, does this mean I have to go to school tomorrow?¡± Franchesca let out a sigh that emptied her lungs of air and her body of tension. Juan, having finally translated the sentence in his head, let out a deep wheezing laugh that sent him leaning against the counter. ¡°No, sweetheart, you probably won¡¯t have school for a while.¡± Fran said and Marco screamed, pumping his fists before throwing his entire backpack from under the counter into the trash. At that moment, John Paul and Ignacio returned in time to wrangle the eight year old that had begun singing football chants to celebrate the end of his education. Maria watched with a waning smile as the familiar chaos of her little family raged in their little home-away-from-home - now much further from home, but no less theirs. It would be more work, yes, of course, but she had been ready to work to death to make this family happy. There was no time for the Devil and his cruel words in her moments of weakness, she had to go on, if not for Fran, then for Marco. Maria straightened her hunched back, setting her jaw once more with determination. By God, she would not fold to this new world, and with the Lord as her witness, she would still give her family the best she could bite and kick and claw for. She would make Marco a little Mexican king in this brand new world.