Young Writers Society

I drove around for a little while along the back roads and side streets, burning gas and wasting time then pulled into Jakes Café down on Danbury Street. I recognized Joey Calvin’s Dodge out front and I pulled in next to him, he was a good friend of mine. He was from the poor side of town (they used to call it the colored side) but no one seemed to mind, his folks ran the place and after school he would come down and work bussing tables. I walked in the screen door and looked around, Joey was cleaning the counter, he looked up and a big smile spread across his face.
“Hey, we don’t serve your kind in here” He shouted
“Like I’d want to eat anything you serve”
I walked over to the counter and sat down at one of the stools, just as joeys mother came running out.
“Joseph, what in the hell are you shouting about, who are you not going to… oh it’s just you Timmy.”
“Hello Mrs. Calvin how are you”
“Oh, wonderful, did Joseph tell you the good news”
“No what”
“I Got a letter from the University of Chicago, they want to give me a baseball scholarship”
“My baby’s going to college, and for free”
“That’s great man”
“So what’s up with you” he said as his mother walked back into the kitchen.
“Just got out of a detention with Mrs. Battleaxe”
“Oh, that sucks”
“Well, it wasn’t all bad, Alice Jenson was there so at least I had something to look at”
“Amen”
We sat around and talked for a while, drinking (Joeys father always kept a bottle of Jack under the counter) just hanging out, his mother would occasionally pop her head in and ask if we wanted anything to eat. Only a couple of people came in while I was there, Joey would reluctantly go over and give them the menus and take their orders. One old lady started getting short and bossy with him, demanding he cook her food in a certain way. Joes mother finally came out with a spatula in her hand and gave it to the woman and said.
“Here, you don’t like how we cook it do it yourself”
The woman stormed out, muttering to herself.
I looked up at the neon clock on the wall above the counter and realized it was 7. I decided it was time to go home and get ready, I didn’t feel like leaving knowing that I was going to get my head bitten for what I had done that morning. I sucked it up, took one last shot of Jack and headed for home. I never drank just to get drunk, so when i took a drink I had a reason and this was as good as any, when I pulled into the drive way I saw the curtains in the kitchen window open, pause for a second, and then shut. I just barely got in the front door when the shouting started.
“TIM, GET IN HERE NOW” boomed my father