When You Were Older (20 page)

In the middle of it all was a rock about the size of an orange.

I threw open the bakery door and ran out on to the sidewalk. I heard the bell jingle, but vaguely. Like it was far away. Or I was. I looked in every direction. But the street was empty. Empty and unreal, still like an old unused movie set. Whoever it was had gone.

I stepped back inside.

Nazir’s face looked too flushed. I couldn’t tell if he was about to release sorrow or rage. But I could see something trying to come out.

He kicked viciously at the glass once, but barely grazed the top of it. One piece flew across the floor and made a clinking sound when it landed.

‘All right,’ he said. His voice sounded deathly calm. Eerily calm. ‘All right. I thought we were done with this, but all right. I will not go to pieces. I will just get a broom and sweep it up, and then at nine o’clock I will call some kind of glass company, and that’s it.’

He looked up at me. Straight into my eyes. I was startled by the anger I saw in his. Not at me, of course. But still.

‘Until next time, eh, my friend? That’s it, until they decide to have some more fun with us.’

He clapped me on the shoulder before he moved off toward the kitchen.

‘Shouldn’t you call the police?’

‘How can the police catch them? How can they know who did this? This could be anybody.’

‘I was just thinking … you’re insured, right? I mean, are you? If you’re insured, you might need a police report before you can file a claim.’

Nazir stood like a statue for a weird length of time, halfway between me and the kitchen. I was starting to worry about him. Then the spell broke, and he hit himself in the forehead with the heel of one beefy hand.

‘That is absolutely right,’ he said. ‘You are so right. Where is my brain? It’s a good thing you were here with me, because I can’t think with a thing like this. You probably just saved me a lot of money. Something I can’t afford to lose any more of right now. Wait here. I will call.’

I don’t know where the phone hid in that bakery. Maybe way back in the storeroom. Because I never heard him call. I never heard what he said to the police. But I know he called. Because less than ten minutes later, we received a visit from one of Nowhere-ville’s finest.

Unless things had changed since I left town, that was one out of all two of Nowhere-ville’s finest.

‘I need to know you can make me safe!’ Nazir roared.

Somehow, in the intervening ten minutes, he had found his voice.

‘Sir—’ the cop said, but got no further. He was a guy, I swear, no older than me, with blond hair in an army-length buzz cut. His name badge said he was Officer N. Michelevsky.

‘You are the police! If you can’t keep us safe, who can keep us safe? What am I to do? I ask you this! Why can’t I live in this town like anybody else? Why can’t I live in peace? What have I done to anybody that I don’t deserve to live in peace? I lead a quiet life. I hurt no one. Who do I hurt? Next time it will be a bomb.’

Michelevsky got a word in edgewise. ‘I doubt that, sir. I don’t think they’re trying to hurt anybody. Maybe scare you. Maybe even get you to move.’

’This is my livelihood. I know there are those who want us to pack up and move away, but how can I do that? Business is so bad I don’t have the money to start again. I must know you can keep me safe.’

‘I didn’t say you should move. Just that it doesn’t seem like they’re out to hurt anybody.’

‘My daughter. My daughter is only twenty, and she works by herself at night. And it’s a small town, so everybody knows this.’

‘If everybody knows this, did it ever occur to you that somebody purposely did this when
you
were here, not your daughter? Maybe it’s easier to pick on a grown man than a young woman.’

‘I’m surprised they have even that much honor. So what if you are wrong?’

‘Here’s what we can do for you, sir. We’ll increase the patrols by here – drive by three or four times a day between four and seven in the morning. And, this being a small town and all, we got a pretty good idea who our small batch of miscreants are, so how about we put out
the
word that we’re taking any vandalism against this shop very seriously. That we’re watching, that we’ll come down hard if we don’t like what we see. That sort of thing. What do you say?’

I watched Nazir to see how he would react. He stared into the cop’s face for a moment, proud and defiant.

Then he said, ‘This is far from a guarantee.’

‘There are no guarantees,’ the cop said. ‘I think you know that, sir.’

A long silence. I could feel a cool breeze on my neck.

‘I have to go make the donuts,’ Nazir said. ‘I can’t afford not to go on with my work.’

Then he walked away. Marched into the kitchen, and that was that.

The cop turned to me, and motioned with his head to a table away from the direct cold of the broken window. We sat down across from each other.

‘He seems a little upset,’ N. Michelevsky said.

‘I’d say.’

‘Not that I blame him.’

‘No.’

‘So maybe just fill in a few details for my report.’

‘Sure.’

‘This happened right before he called? Or you came in and found it this way?’

‘We were here when it happened. But we were in the kitchen.’

‘You work here?’

‘No. Just a family friend. I couldn’t sleep, so I came down here to talk to Nazir.’

‘And did you see anyone? A car, or someone on foot?’

‘No. I ran out into the street, but I didn’t see anybody. It was too late by then.’

‘OK. Well. You know. I’m not going to lie and say the investigation will go much further than this.’

‘I know. I think he just wanted the police report for insurance purposes.’

‘Understood.’

‘I worry about his daughter, too. You don’t think they’ll really throw a bomb next time, do you?’

‘I doubt it,’ he said, standing up. ‘Your name, for my report?’

‘Russell Ammiano.’

‘Spell it?’ he asked.

And I did.

‘Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. So far the crimes seem to be about expressing an opinion. Maybe costing them some money. Nobody seems to be out to hurt anybody. Things’ll cool down after a while.’

‘Hope you’re right,’ I said.

‘Me, too.’

And he picked his way through the sea of glass to the door, and let himself out.

I walked back through the kitchen to get a broom.

I found Nazir standing with his head bent forward to the table, resting on his fists. I thought he was crying.
But
when he looked up at me, I saw it was rage he was battling. Not tears.

‘I’m going to get a broom and sweep it up,’ I told him.

He nodded. Not as though nothing needed to be said, but as though his speech was not currently functioning.

I found a big push broom in the storeroom. I also found a gigantic roll of plastic wrap. I wasn’t even looking for the plastic wrap. I just leaned in to get the broom, leaned over the big white buckets – the storeroom was a sea of those five-gallon white buckets with snap-on lids – and there it was, in front of my eyes.

Working slowly, being careful not to cut myself, I swept up all the glass. I cut myself once, anyway. Then I shrink-wrapped the open window, stretching the plastic wrap from one side of the window frame to the other in several long strips, securing it to the frame with tape from a dispenser on the counter. For extra good measure. As I did, I noticed there was still a smudge of paint on the bricks under the window.

I looked up at the clock. It was well after five. Ben would be up. Ben always got up at five.

Back in the kitchen, I leaned the broom against Nazir’s big refrigerator.

‘I have to get back,’ I said. ‘Ben gets up at five. If he sees I’m not back he’ll have a fit.’

Nazir nodded. Without looking at me.

‘Funny, huh? I came in here to get some support from
you,
and you ended up having a night that made mine look happy.’

‘Life turns on a dime,’ he said, still not looking at me.

‘Well … bye.’

I let myself out.

I walked halfway across the parking lot, then turned and walked back in.

‘Got a pen and paper?’ I asked him.

He flipped his chin in the direction of a small yellow pad adhered to the side of the refrigerator. Beside it, a pencil dangled on a string.

I picked up the pencil and wrote ‘Russell’s cell phone number. Call anytime.’ And the number.

‘I’m leaving my number,’ I said to Nazir. ‘In case you’re ever here alone and you need me. Or Anat. If Anat was alone here and anything happened, I’m literally less than two minutes away. I could beat you here by half an hour. But make sure she knows it doesn’t matter if it’s four o’clock in the morning. And it doesn’t matter if she’s not sure. Even if she hears something she can’t identify. Or there’s a car idling out front. Anything that doesn’t seem right to her. She should call me. I mean, obviously if something really happens, she should call the police. But if there’s just something she’s not sure about, she should call me. And I’ll come down here and sit with her.’

He looked at me then. Turned that searing gaze on me.

‘Thank you, my friend,’ he said.

There didn’t seem to be more to say, so I just walked to my car and drove back to the house.

Ben was sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal. He seemed surprised to see me walk through the door. But he obviously hadn’t been upset. So apparently he’d had no idea I’d been gone.

’I thought you were asleep,’ he said.

‘Good.’

That was exactly what I’d hoped he’d thought.

‘But you weren’t. You were out.’

‘True.’

‘Why weren’t you asleep?’

‘I couldn’t. I couldn’t sleep. I tried, but I just couldn’t.’

‘Oh,’ Ben said, around a mouthful of half-chewed food. ‘OK.’

Miraculously, he said nothing more about it.

On the way in to his work, Ben spotted the broken window from blocks away.

‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘Oh, no. Uh oh. That’s bad. That’s really bad.’

‘It’s pretty bad,’ I said.

‘You don’t sound like you think it’s as bad as I think it is.’

‘No. I do. It’s just that I already knew about it.’

‘Oh. Who broke it?’

‘We don’t know.’

‘Somebody broke it and ran away?’

‘That’s about the size of it, yeah.’

Ben whistled softly, obviously impressed by the scope of the crime. By small-town standards, it was quite a happening. By Ben standards, it was earth-shattering.

‘I’m glad I didn’t do a bad thing like that.’

‘Me too, Buddy. I’m glad you didn’t, too.’

WHEN BEN AND
I drove by the bakery the following morning on our way to Gerson’s Market – it was a Tuesday but Ben had to cover another bagger’s shift – we saw fresh new window glass already in place. Nazir must’ve gotten someone to come fix it in-between the time I drove Ben home and closing time.

Only problem was, it no longer said Nazir’s Baked Goods on the window. That would take a little more time.

I stuck my head in the front area of the bakery. The lights were on. It was ten minutes to seven.

‘It’s only me, Nazir,’ I called.

I heard nothing in return, so I walked to the end of the counter and looked back into the kitchen. Nazir was cutting donuts, intensely. It gave me a trace of sudden indigestion. That stress level of his. On top of my stress level. Well. Anything on top of my stress level would have been a problem.

‘Good morning,’ I said, and he waved without looking up.

‘Get yourself a coffee,’ he said. ‘I have it regular. Regular coffee. For customers. You can’t strip paint with it, or anything such as that.’

I poured a big coffee into a to-go cup, black, and took it into the kitchen with Nazir. I stood with my back leaned up against the long bar handle of one of the two ovens. The warmth felt good against my back. I thought, I remember warmth. Whatever happened to warmth?

‘Looks better,’ I said.

He looked up for a fraction of a second. ‘The window?’

‘Yeah. That was fast.’

‘Except it doesn’t say what it is, this place. Could be a dry cleaner, like it used to be. Could be a florist. Who knows what it is unless you come and look in? You don’t know if you will see flowers or bread.’

‘I expect the locals have it pretty well memorized. You know. Which shop is which. Besides, you’ll get it repainted.’

No answer.

‘Right?’

‘Will I? I don’t know. I suppose I will have to. I think it must say “bakery” or “baked goods”. But must it say “Nazir”? I don’t know why that’s so enraging to some. But I hesitate to pay to have that painted back on. It costs money to have someone come paint that, you know. I already have to pay five hundred dollars for the window. That’s the deductible for my insurance. No
matter
what the window costs my bill is five hundred dollars. Then I pay a hundred or two more to have my name painted on. Then some wise guy drives by when I have it all back to normal again. Throws another stone. I can’t keep up. I am feeling tired, my friend.’

I just leaned and breathed for a moment. I knew tired. I could relate to tired. I had no cure for my own tiredness. What was I supposed to say to alleviate his?

I said, ‘You want me to go by the hardware store and get a stencil? I could just stencil on the word “bakery” if you want.’

Nazir slid a tray of Danish into the oven, the one I wasn’t leaning on. Then he looked into my eyes. I could tell he was taking my offer seriously.

‘What do you think it should say?’ he asked.

‘I think it should say your name.’

‘You do.’ It was a statement. It wasn’t a question.

‘It’s what I would do. Otherwise I feel like I’d be letting them win.’

Nazir laughed soundlessly. ‘I have news, my friend. They are winning. I am not letting them. They just are. But all right. I think you are correct. It should say “Nazir”. I am not ashamed of my name.’

‘I’ll still stencil it on if you want.’

He didn’t answer. Just grabbed his white china coffee mug and took it out into the customer area. When he came back with it full, he said, ‘I have been thinking. And, also, talking to my daughter. And … maybe between Anat and myself, we could look after Ben.’ I
know
my shock must have showed, because he said, ‘Close your jaw, my friend. I don’t mean for all of time. I mean for as long as you would need to go quickly and get your belongings. How much time would you need?’