Curious Cats
The last of the trucks would leave the town and not be seen again until the middle of spring. They were once again left to their own ways. With the autumn shifting into full force it would not be long until the bitter colds encased the mountain town in snow: blocking them off from the rest of the world for a few months.
Come the next few mornings life was, predictably, back to normal. The excitement of the new diner had faded away. It had become a normal part of the ebb and flow of the town's daily activities. The most attractive part of the place was that it was good, homemade food. Misha was an inviting woman. She was nothing like the younger crowds who tried changing the town and giving it a little bit of pizzazz. She moved with the locals, as if she had always been part of the town. The mother and son duo had felt like they'd lived here for years. It was all just ebb and flow. In the morning adults would drive off into the city for work before the sun had even a chance to warm the morning dew. Cars would be left in the parking lot of the train station an hour out before they rode the rest of the way into the city. The younger adults and children would go off to school or the community college: the youngest often sent off by their older siblings before morning classes. The local deli is packed as college students rush to their classes grabbing what snacks and candies they could in hopes it would last them until lunch. Most went to Misha's as the undersauced campus pizza has become a dry, unpalatable dish compared to the Munchies' burritos and loaded fries, which were often topped by a chunky meat sauce made from the leftover hamburgers. The end of the day was at three in the evening for many and those that didn't have after school activities with clubs or on campus events went to Misha's or returned home to await the arrival of their younger siblings at the bus stop. It was the same in and same out with little variation. The stagnation took its toll on all ages. With adults returning at almost twelve in the morning, if even that, they went straight to bed only to start the slog again in the morning. For youngsters waking at six in the morning and not leaving school grounds until three. The campus was barren of most of a student's basic needs. Seats were from over a decade old, lined lecture halls and much of the funding funneled its way into the local sports team which served as the town's main means of community. Everything revolved around the local team from community get-togethers to holidays. The theater was taking advantage of the lull in the sports department and were putting on a show for visitors who came to the town for the annual harvest festival. It told of the town's founding and history until present.
It was just before lunch. Jon, Nathan and Nikki made their way to the theater which was just across from the campus. They had promised to pick up Pa-kun for lunch: a tomato free lunch. Upon entering the theater its age would have been apparent. Untouched were the hundred year old upholstery: ratty red velvet where stains from performances past week still visible. The old Elm supports that were long since petrified and the ticket booth had yet to see any technological updates that they still used the old till and print to cash out tickets and a dilapidated clip-on fan barely circulated the air in the glass box, which was all but a furnace in the summer months. Gargoyles still decorated the concessions stand which still had the old slot-on menu items. The powder rooms were partially converted to have working toilets, which barely worked half the time! The actors' dressing rooms were rigged with dangerously stacked wardrobes with platforms jimmied to fit the needs of the students during costume changes.
"Pa-kun!" Jon called, raising his hand to usher his attention.
Pa-kun was hunched over with a few other members of the theater in a circle, working away on sewing projects. With next to no budget when compared to the sports team many of the costumes used in the theater were lovingly designed by the students. Pa-kun looked up, mid stitch.
"Yo." He looked back down and kept on sewing. In the background Nikki set off on her way to try on some of the outfits for the group. She was the general size of some of their actors so the stagehands enjoyed using her as a model. Nathan has wandered off backstage, lending a hand to the prop managers. Jon looked around, realizing how quickly he was left alone.
"Wow, guys, don't split the party..." All in question raised their hands.
"""Earshot.""" They declared.
Jon looked to the side and sighed. "Well as long as you're all within earsho--! Hey!" He implored, given his trailing thought. "Lunch." He protested.
After herding the cats from their distractions they would make their way to Misha's Munchies which was two blocks away by the arcade. The lunch crowd made many of the hot spots for lunch busy. The old deli was always a good place to go, a place the tomato sensitive actor preferred. But they promised to fend off his meal from any evil doing.
Nathan looked up from his music player, looking towards the others as he held up the device.
"We better hurry. We won't get a booth." He indicated the time on the screen.
They pushed to hurry faster. Passing alleys and corners that, if one attempted to cross at night would send chills down one's spine. Rotting scents of sewage carried from some of the narrow passages as they were where restaurants and shops tossed their refuse into the dumpsters. Sometimes divers and other questionable bodies lurked the alleyways at night in search for treasure or some food. It was sometimes a sad reality for many. They knew they drew closer to Misha's Munchies because the heavy scent of fried dough and burning tomato sauce escaped the back door: the heavy metal barricade held open by Bo's foot. The large, brutish looking man tossed a heavy black garbage bag into the rusted, green dumpster. For a moment Jon would stop to look up towards Bo.
Bo was strong and was able to lurch the bag into the disposal with ease. He stood, easily looking over the dumpster at six foot, five, dark brown eyes staring at Jon. Bo had a pale complexion: a strong brow line that drew well against his square face. He was not muscular, but he was tall, lanky and always wore loose fitting trousers with a half tucked in white shirt. He wore a black apron. His constant busy work with the perogies kept him consistently stained with the white splotches, some sauce stains from the vigorously stirred borscht also stained a few choice areas on his chest. Jon stared for several moments, finding himself drawn in by the deep scar running from the side of his head up into his hairline.
"It's rude to stare..." A deep voice rumbled from behind Jon, causing him to jump with a yelp:
"Yaah!!" The sound rolled up, ending in a shriek. "D-don't do that!" Jon complained as he found himself face to -- bandana with a grinning Nathan.
The loud slam of the dumpster's lid caused them both to jump and turn their sights back onto Bo who was already retreating back into the restaurant. As the metal door slowly slid closed Misha's voice could be heard calling him about the freezer... With a soft click the back door hissed and locked. Nathan patted Jon's shoulder, the young man placing a hand on his chest as he watched the metalhead meander to the front.
"Do you think he noticed us?" The comment left Jon with a closed door on his face.