The Proprietress
The Grand opening was here and with the shop over capacity the sheriff found himself having to come over to make sure he got a piece of the action. A few over the capacity limit wasn’t going to make or break the building code, or so he felt, and got on line himself to make a big order for the rest of the department. It wasn't even noon yet and the diner was full up on a Monday! The front counter where folk ordered was handled by Miss Misha. In the back one of her sons handled the grill top. He had moved into town with Miss Misha. His real name was a bit rough on the tongue so he was just called Bo, by the lot who had come across him, though he always seemed to be at Miss Misha's side, helping her with daily tasks of heavy lifting. Bo wasn't a talkative guy, but he sure could cook, as was evident by his satisfied diners. Each meal that wasn't the chowder or borscht was cooked to order and he seemed to have an impeccable record of getting them correct.
Jon, Nathan, and Nichole had selected a booth. Nichole was the first one on her meal, or at least her milkshake.
“They have cookies and cream!” A flavor rarely experienced in the little town. Strawberry and Vanilla were staples, but chocolate and its forms was quite a rare delicacy given they rarely got deliveries from out of town. “Come to me my darling!” The cheerleader was upon her straw like a fruit bat on a mango.
Jon had been pretty excited himself, his burger in both hands. The hot, dripping freshly grilled sandwich was almost home! But he spotted Nathan in his peripheral, who had seated himself beside the young man, leaving Nichole to sit in her spot by herself, across from them in the booth seat. Nathan had raised the toasted bun, scrutinizing the patty. Picking at the crispy edges where bits of cooked onion hung from inside the well cooked meat: Nathan would eventually draw the patty from its bun, toppings and all, right onto his plate. Jon sighed, head sulking forward.
Nathan sneered at the greasy meat. “My turkey burgers never come out this greasy. Look he uses red onions instead of white. It feels way too soft, is it still red in the middle?” He would ask, splitting apart the meat as Nathan continued to nitpick.
Jon let out an exasperated sigh and moved to turn to Nichole, only for another body to sit itself beside the young woman, unannounced. It was a young man, rather short when compared to Jon and Nathan. He had long hair, tied back in a ponytail and wore buttoned up shirts two sizes too big, making his smaller figure a bit more apparent. Some would describe him as emaciated, but he was quite fit, just thin.
They simply referred to him as Pa-kun. “Guys! It’s terrible!”
The young man had brought his plate to their table, setting it down with a clatter. The burger that rested on top seemed to slide apart at the jostling motion. The top bun was slicked with ketchup and thickly cut tomatoes lay on the savory meat pattie.
The group flinched seeing the disaster on his plate. They knew well the lamentations of their friend before he spoke. Jon leaned forward. “It's covered in tomatoes.” He stated.
Pa-kun glared through his bronze bangs at his peer. “No shit, Sherlock.” He slumped over the table, Nichole reaching out to pat his head as she happily guzzled down her milkshake. “I have only ten more minutes until I have to go back to the theater.” Pa-kun was a history enthusiast and worked at the local theater reenacting the founding of the town for visitors that would be coming for their spring shows, winter being a difficult time of travel for the town as the heavy winters made travel nigh impossible, which was why the suburb was so self-sufficient in the first place.
Nathan looked to Pa-kun, his own burger torn apart by dismay and culinary curiosity. “That’s rough man.” He pushed his plate away and looked to Jon who had only managed to take a bite of his meal before finding himself sighing.
Jon found his appetite disrupted by the woes of their peers. Pa-kun was violently allergic to tomatoes and tomato sauce so Jon ordered them a platter of cheese fries. It was quick to make, so Pa-kun had plenty of time to dine and dash.
“Thanks Jon!” Pa-kun was always a cheerful fellow, but his food being messed with often did upset him.
Jon looked to Nathan and Nichole. Nikki, as she was sometimes called, stood slurping her milkshake and Nathan eating the remaining fries. He sighed. Well at least they had some lunch before classes started again. The excitement had given the town a new spark, as these sorts of places always seemed to, but there would eventually be a time where it would lose it's mystique. As all these places did. It was only a matter of time before one could be sure if Misha's Munchies was here to stay.
Miss Misha certainly was sure she was here to stay, as the converted building was nothing short of a manor. Originally the town's city hall had been a ramshackle building hobbled together with styles that changed throughout the eras of the town’s existence. Doric columns surrounding the front entrance and projecting eaves supported by corbels meant nothing to those who had grown up with images of gargoyles perched atop palladian windows that ran across the second floors, with the first floors of half-timbering gothic walls being extensively maintained throughout the current years of reconstruction. Eventually it came to a head that the Hall could no longer be maintained. It was a mash up of elements in an attempt to remain relevant that only served to exemplify just how out of touch the town was with the world outside. It was almost as if things here stood still and nothing changed while change struggled to embed itself in the memory of locals. No one remembers the name of the shop that had tried to modernize the town’s ideas of electronics. What means had they to maintain the market that was fed by the constant climate of upgrade and disposal? Many of them had televisions that still supported rabbit ears as a form of reception. No one remembers the bookshop that had thrived on used books and other consumable media. Most of the books in town that had any measurable form of entertainment were already maintained by the library. No one saw any reason to have membership to a book club when they have had library cards since they were born.
The front of the property was enshrined in a hedge maze which had been meticulously maintained for years. It was a woven holly so even in the fall it was a brilliant green making it one of the few places in town that had a sense of life even in the coldest winter. It was an aesthetic that had surfaced when a young artist, who had moved to the town in hopes of finding inspiration for their paintings: had taken to landscaping. It eventually became the only means in which they could provide for themselves in such a town. Eventually they had made it their business to maintain all of the town’s flora and fauna making them the only landscaper in town. The once bright and social artist had become a recluse over time, spending much of their days in their garden growing the plants that would line the streets and decorate homes during the spring. The only path into the courtyard had been closed off by a newly affixed black-bar fence with a gate of decorative iron rods twisted to replicate the forms of growing ivy. What had once been the front entrance with a grand clock tower that rang on the hour was now a brick chimney that smoked every day with Miss Misha’s cooking. Bo, Misha’s son, could often be seen sitting on the courtyard benches feeding the pond of fish that had once been managed by the groundskeeper. Despite the extravagant accommodations Miss Misha was a modest woman who spoke often of her love of cooking and her happiness toward the town.