The Sous Chef
I locked the restaurant door and walked away, but stopped when I saw a girl lying in the street. A syringe lay on the ground next to her.
It wasn’t the first time someone overdosed on the streets here, but she looked so young, her eyes flickered like a bad light bulb before they closed, and a large tear fell down her cheek. My heart broke for her; once, in a foster home, a girl overdosed, and I just sat there along with the others; help was too late, and she died that night. I wouldn’t let that happen again. I wiped the tears away and then took out my phone to call 911, but a man stepped in front of her and pointed a gun at me.
“Drop the phone.” He looked sick.
“We need to call for help. She’s overdosing,” I said.
“No way. She’s just high.”
“What’s her name?”
“Chloe, not that it matters to you.”
“I.” He shoved the gun into my stomach, and I dropped the phone.
“Let’s go to the restaurant.” He pointed at the door that I just came out of.
“You know it’s only lunchtime; there isn’t much money.” I knew the other workers were in the backroom getting ready for dinner.
He shoved the gun into my side and pushed me toward the door.
Chloe moaned. I needed to make a move; if he got the key, everyone inside would be in danger. They were my co-workers. A distraction came when a dog growled and charged toward us. He pointed the gun at the dog, and I jumped at him; the gun went off with such a loud noise my ears rang like you were inside a church bell tower when the bell clanged. The shock and pain caused me to fall on top of the shooter. The gun bounced away. The dog bit both of us, and my hearing returned, but a pain in my leg shot through me with such force that I almost blacked out.
“Luna.” A small girl yelled.
“Call 911,” I said. Somebody did because sirens were getting closer.
The shooter got up and ran down the street, but a police car turned the corner and blocked his escape.
I pointed at Chloe when an ambulance arrived, then blacked out.
The hospital was lonely. My leg was bandaged, and they told me Chloe was in the hospital too, but she would survive and hopefully get help.
I refused to get out of bed, but Leo, the restaurant owner, came to visit me every day.
He told me I saved all their lives, but was mine worth saving? I was in depression.
One day, the nurse came in, followed by a girl and her family.
I shrieked when she charged forward and hugged me before I could even sit up.
“You saved Luna.”
“He could have shot Sophie too.” Her mother wiped her eyes as her father nodded.
“Is Luna okay?” I asked.
“Yes, but she always wants treats.” Sophie smiled and handed me a box. It contained cards from people in the restaurant and the neighborhood. I just put them aside, unable to read them.
###
When I was released from the hospital, Leo visited me.
“I still need a sous chef. I never filled the position,” he said.
“I can’t. I’m afraid to go back. I don’t feel like I belong anymore.”
“Everyone there misses you. They never stop asking about you.”
I didn’t answer. I was a foster child, and the families shuffled me around because I was so quiet.CI had severe social anxiety, but I found a love of cooking, which saved me. Still, nobody hired a quiet girl until I met Leo at the restaurant. He saved me. He was like my father, but I wasn’t sure I couldn’t go back. I was afraid of encountering a shooter or someone in trouble again. I wasn’t a hero; I didn’t feel like one. I just felt lonely; I had nobody.
We walked in silence. At the restaurant, he hugged me. His eyes were wet. He rubbed them. “Damn pollution. Just know this, you are always among friends here. You are family. I think of you as my.”
I cut him off.
“Tell the others I said goodbye.” I hugged him back and turned away. Every step I took walking away from Leo hurt, and it wasn’t from physical pain.
###
That night, I stared at the TV and my phone, and no matter what I did, the loneliness overcame me. When I heard something funny, there was nobody to share it with; when I thought of something important or saw a fantastic movie trailer, there was no one to show it to. I wept.
I wemt to the bust stop at three in the morning and sat alone in the dark. Ths was a moment in time that could change my life. If I left who knows if I would come back or be able too. If I stayed, I would have to embrace all that happened. The tears flowed off and on all night until the sun came up. Later, a mother and small girl got on the bus and they looked so happy. The girl felled and cried until the mother comforted her. The love of a parent. It was just about being there for somebody if the y needed you. That and other things. I knew someone who was there for me. It warmed me and I felt something inside me change. Maybe, I could be loved too.
###
The next day, Leo’s Restaurant was busy, and the workers were overwhelmed with orders. I looked in the window and saw Leo. He looked sad. I limped in and stood at the counter.
“Hey, chef, where can a girl get an application.”
Leo’s face lit up. “Jenna.” He yelled ut and everyone turned toward me.
The sounds of a kitchen could be loud, but they all stopped at that moment.
“You’re hired. Get back here.”
All the chefs and workers came and hugged me until Leo chased them back to work.
Despite my injured leg, it felt like I walked on air. Leo handed me an apron, and it fit. It had my name on it.
“You saved it.”
“I hoped you would be back.”
“Orders up,” someone said, and familiar faces all took a second to hug me, and they all said. “Welcome back, chef.”
“All day,” I said. “Hey, can I tell you guys about a joke I heard and a movie trailer?”
“Of course,” they all responded.
They all laughed and commented on the trailer, then returned to their spots on the line. I fell right into my spot like I had never left and worked with a smile on my face. I had a family. I was home.
About the Author
William Falo is a color pencil artist who also writes fiction. He lives with his family which includes a papillon named Dax.
He can be found on Instagram @william.falo_art and X william Falo_art