Write Something You Know - Melting Away

Carlos inhaled coriander and cracked peppercorn. His nostrils seemed to burst into flames as the spices rode along on his breath. Grinning, he knew it was right and began to massage the rub into his steaks.

“Thank you, Father, I can’t do it myself.” Carlos still whispered, even though he was alone. Tony or Miguel could come in at anytime, and they wouldn’t understand.

Like prison bars, the grill trapped the flames of the burners. “But, you’re going to set my beauties free, aren’t you?” chuckled Carlos, this time talking to his stove. Sizzles exploded as Carlos slapped his steaks down, searing their first sides.

The aroma of cooking beef was rich and round, not like the biting spices had been. Even the sounds were delicious as he deliberately turned his “beauties” in a special procession. Balancing the slightly uneven heat of his grill, he flipped them in a different order than he originally laid the steaks.

Charlie was a teacher at the community college. He came on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and liked the chile reñeno dinner. Anne was a pharmaceutical rep, which Carlos liked to joke made her a drug dealer. She liked the vegetarian tacos with guacamole. Dr. Gillroy was the pediatrician who’s offices faced the restaurant across the parking lot. He liked the steak fajitas. And then there was little old Maria Louisa with her perfectly done white hair. She would have something different every time. “I’m old, its tough to surprise me, but give it a try.” Then, after the meal, “You managed to do it again, Carlos!” He thought about them a lot more since he started taking his walks in the park. Things were getting to be different. “Thank you for them. Thank you for Rosa at home, I don’t deserver her,” he whispered again.

A lanky man with black, short hair banged through the back door with arms full of boxes. “We got the good avocados again. Mr. Robinson really likes you, Carlos, I don’t know why!” Tony did what he was told, and Carlos loved the fact he could trust him to run errands and get back in time for the rush. Miguel came into the kitchen through the door that lead to the front of the restaurant carrying a broom and dust pan. He was a round and very good natured kid.

“All clean and tidy, ready to go, you want me to open up?”

“Go ahead, kid,” replied Carlos as he sliced his steaks up into strips for fajitas.

***

The lunch rush was over about 2:30, and Carlos took his brown bag with a burrito in it and headed for the park.

“I don’t know how he’s wasting away like that eating a huge burrito for lunch everyday. That walk around the park ain’t that long.” Miguel was washing up the last of the lunch dishes. “I wouldn’t be this round if all it took was walking around a park.”

“Really,” replied Tony from behind a bite of his chile reñeno, “When was the last time you walked farther than from here to your car?”

“I’m not sayin’ I’m doin’ it now. I’m sayin’ if it was that easy to lose weight, I would be doin’ it.” Miguel finished up the last pan and began to eye an avocado that had escaped the guacamole during the rush.

“You know, Rosa says that he doesn’t eat dinner at home anymore. Says he’s full or something. He’s probably only eatin’ that one burrito most days. That would make him shrink, don’t you think?” Tony was waving his fork around as he thought.

“Probably,” replied Miguel, distracted by the quesadilla/avocado super stack he was constructing.

“Whoa! A quadruple decker today?” Tony started to laugh, “Careful it doesn’t topple over, big boy.”

***

Carlos felt like his insides were melting, liquefied, sinking into a puddle, somewhere behind his formerly cavernous belly button. Rosa liked the changes, but it was funny. She was pregnant again, and their bellies were going in opposite directions. The little ones didn’t seem to notice yet. Annabelle was only six and Mayra was three. They were far more concerned about who took which baby doll to bed than Daddy’s waist line.

The pond in the park looked cold in the early spring sun. Carlos found Joseph sitting on his bench just like he expected. “Joseph, you look cold today. Have a hot burrito.”

The old black man looked up at Carlos and smiled with wiley eyes. He had the look and smell of a man who was slightly crazy. Money could have made him eccentric, but Joseph had almost none of that. “Would you look at that thin man coming out of nowhere like some sort of daily burrito angel! You’re nothing but a shadow of your former self!”

“And you are finally starting to look decent.” Carlos took the seat on the bench next to where Joseph was huddled in blankets and his old coat.

“It helps I’m still not drinking. How’s the Lord doin’ with your problems?” asked the old man as he pulled open the brown paper bag and breathed deep the aroma.

“He’s changing me.”