Chapter Two:

Barney’s Bagels and Schmear

With my supplies in hand, the dark night before me, and Mom inside, I’m feeling pretty grown up right about now. I hold up my thermos and paper bag. “Hi, Dad, I’m ready to go to work!”

He lets out a deep, rumbly laugh. “Buckle up then, Archie! You’re in for a wild ride.”

I carefully place Grandpa’s tube on the floor behind my seat and put my seat belt on. The old taxi rattles and groans as we pull away from the curb. I don’t think the ride’s going to get too wild. Our biggest adventure will probably be going over a bump and losing a hubcap!

I’ve never heard the streets so quiet. It’s almost spooky. I shiver, even though it’s not cold. I have to remember not to let my imagination run away with me. That’s what Mom used to tell me when I was a little kid and thought a four-armed, three-eyed alien was living under the kitchen sink. Plus, I’ll be with Dad, and he does this every night.

I look around at the empty streets. “How do you find someone who needs a ride?” I ask.

“I get my assignments from the depot,” Dad explains. “Then I go pick up my fare. That’s what we call the person—or people—who need a ride. Then I take them wherever they want to go. It’s different every night. And tonight I’ll have my best pal along for the ride. Sounds like an adventure, right?”

Feeling better, I smile back at him. “Right, Dad!”

A few minutes later we pull up in front of Barney’s Bagels and Schmear. It’s not closed for the night like the rest of the restaurants and stores in the area. Through the large window I can see that half the tables are full with people eating, sipping coffee, talking, and laughing.

“Our first stop,” Dad says, turning off the car.

“But Mom already gave us food,” I say, pointing to the brown bag at my feet.

“That’s breakfast,” he says with a grin. “This is a midnight snack.”

As Dad pushes the door open, all the eyes in the place look up. Some people shout, “Hey, Morningstar, how’s it going?” Others wave or give the thumbs-up sign. Dad shouts back greetings and leads me to the counter. For a second I think I see what looks like a dog wearing headphones slip out the back door. I rub my eyes. Mom was right. I probably should have gotten some sleep.

Dad orders us each a tuna sandwich on a bagel, along with a coffee for him and an apple juice for me.

“Is this your boy?” the man asks as he neatly slices our poppy-seed bagels. He has a big, round belly and a happy smile.

Dad nods and pats me on the shoulder. “This is Archie. He’s eight years, eight months, and eight days old today.”

“Big day for you, eh, young Morningstar?” the man says, and then winks. At least I think he winked. Maybe a poppy seed flew into his eye.

I almost tell him that it’s a big night for me, not day, but Mom always says it’s rude to correct people. So I just nod and say, “I’ve never seen the city at night before.”

“You’re gonna see a lot more than that,” he says, winking again. Those poppy seeds must really fly! Someone behind us chuckles and I turn around. For a split second it looks like a lady sitting at the counter has one more head than she’s supposed to have. But when I blink again, she goes back to normal.

Okay, I definitely see a nap happening in my near future.

On the way out of the deli, Dad stops at almost every table. How does he know all these people? When we get to the street, I ask, “Are we going to the depot now?”

“We just did,” he replies, pulling a slip of paper from the bag holding the sandwiches.

“Huh?” I look behind us at the bagel shop. All the customers are crowded by the window, watching us. When they see me looking, they quickly run back to their seats. Life after midnight is weird.

“Let’s go, son.” Dad steers me toward the car. He hands me the piece of paper and says, “Our first pickup awaits.”