Chapter 6

Mikel’s phone vibrated with a text message: “Go random.”

Mikel ducked into the first sporting goods store he saw. They each picked out a hoodie and a sports-rated outdoor mask. They swapped out clothes and masks before they hit the sidewalk. They began walking northward.

“Where are we going, Mikel?”

“We are going to get lunch,” Mikel said with a seriousness that did not permit humor.

“Lunch?”

“We need to get underground and the only way to get there that I know of is lunch, Hyun,” Mikel said. “Let’s turn right and go to the next avenue.”

They walked for blocks in silence. Mikel did his best to walk under trees and stick to the middle of crowds. He would have liked to rush like a hunted man looking for a place to lay low, but he was savvy enough to stop himself and grasp for patience. Hyun looked like she had checked out or was on the downslope of a bad high.

A hustler poked Mikel’s arm, asking him if he had change. “The A.I. is right behind me,” Mikel hissed with wide eyes. “Run for your life.” The man backed away like he had just met a crazy man.

“Neighborhood is getting worse,” Hyun said. “I don’t come up here.”

“Pull your hood down further; we’re almost there.” He pulled at her sleeve and led her down the side of Grace Tabernacle and Holy Spirit Chapel. At the back of the building were two parking spaces and trash cans. A low brick wall lined the edge of the property. Mikel led Hyun behind the trashcan where a standard wood box with a lid rested on the ground. “Step on the box and climb over the wall.”

She looked at him and shrugged. Without a word, she followed his instructions and leveraged herself over the wall. She waited for him to drop down on the packed dirt next to her. “This is public housing, Mikel. You’re fucking nuts.”

“Keep your voice down,” Mikel said. “There are rules here and if you keep to the rules, you’ll be fine. We head down this way. We’re looking for the door with the picture of the flowerpot painted on it.

“There,” Hyun said. “Two more doors down. What do we do now?”

“Two knocks, pause and then repeat two more times,” Mikel said.

The door opened a crack, “You got cash?”

Mikel pulled out two loose twenties from his pocket and held them up. The door opened further, and the young man snatched the bills from Mikel’s hand. “Follow me,” he said.

He escorted them down a concrete floor with grey-flecked cinder block walls. The young man knocked on the door with another code and it opened. The money was handed over to a middle-aged black woman whose huge breasts drooped low on her belly.

“I remember you,” she said to Mikel. “The last girl you brought was a bitch. This one is a skinny little nothing, probably afraid of her own shadow. Hey, you are welcome back Mr. Fancy Words. Mama D is cooking inspirational today.

“Glad to hear,” Mikel said, dropping his shoulders as his initial concerns dissipated. “This is Hyun and she’s a wordsmith too. If I remember correctly, it’s down the hall, then right and the first door on the right.”

“Good memory,” she said. “You two go have yourselves a good lunch. Mama D will be tickled pink to see you again.”

As they walked down the passage with a huge sewer pipe overhead that gurgled and slushed, Hyun nudged Mikel with her elbow. “Where are we going?”

“Unlicensed restaurant,” Mikel said. “Mama D runs the kitchen. I found the place because she makes an offal-stuffed dumpling that you cannot get anywhere else. She also makes a sausage out of pig maws that is exquisite.”

“What’s a pig maw?”

“Do you really want to know how sausage is made?” Mikel asked.

“Nope,” Hyun said with a sharp shake of her head. “Ignorance is bliss. I’ll keep repeating, ‘ignorance is bliss.’ What the fuck am I doing here?”

They stopped in front of another metal door that looked like it opened into an interior maintenance room. Mikel grabbed the doorknob, “Relax, we’re here to eat lunch. You might want to avoid the hootch, but it’s up to you.”

“Hootch?”

Mikel chuckled. “Liquor fermented locally. It’s an acquired taste and may challenge the lead levels in your blood for a day or two.”

“Now I know why I never dated you,” Hyun said. “Entice me with real fake coffee, damn near get me killed and then try to poison me with rotgut. You’re a real sonofabitch.”

“I’m the best sonofabitch you’ve ever met,” Mikel said. “I thought you didn’t swing with the cock.”

“I like variety on occasion. I don’t like bitches who act like they’re on the rag three weeks out of every month – that’s what I don’t like.”

He did not want to hear the litany of her lover’s flaws because in truth, he did not care. Unless she was willing to generate an email request to his column, her problems were no different than the weather report. He was not fully cynical yet, but he was willing to acknowledge the engaged mercenary mindset.

“Mama D,” he called out to the woman behind an old table with the rusted legs. She had bowls and boards spread out in front of her. Someone had strung a thick wire across the room that was suspended above the table. On hooks dangling from the wire were strainers, stirring spoons, and other utensils. “Smells good in here.”

“I’d knew you’d come back,” she called out, showing a gap of missing teeth. “You brought me a new customer too.”

“This is Hyun. She’s a co-worker at the ‘zine. What’s for lunch?”

“We’ve got dumplings if that’s what you’re worried about; chicken guts rolled in breadcrumbs with minced garlic and my secret spice mixture. I got me a new spicy hot dipping sauce that will burn your asshole into tomorrow.”

“It sure does,” an old man chimed in from a chair in the corner. “Worth it though.”

“Ignore him. The worthless shit ain’t had a paying job in three months,” Mama D said. “Where was I before I was rudely interrupted? We have deep fried chicken feet and unsweet cornbread and greens with garlic. Pull a couple of chairs and I’ll serve you in about five minutes. I got a batch in the pot right now.”

The old resin chairs were no longer white, and the table could have been purchased at a discount store fifty years ago. The room had that “the original boiler was installed here” feel to it. There were two other tables and the old man in the chair. A young girl came through the door with a bucket. She handed it across the table and was passed another filled bucket in return. “You take it to Miz. Marsh and make sure she passes you all the bills. You stick your foot in the doorway until you count all the bills. You hear me?”