I’m up so early it’s still dark and down at Dawn Donuts it’s still Althea’s shift, except now she has a helper and the counter is packed. Nelson Maddox is there.
“Hey Darby! What’s up, my man?”
The radio is on and there is so much noise. Cheap Trick doing Elvis, the voices, the pinball machine, I love it. I thought I wanted silence but now, no. I thought I wanted to play alone in the sandbox forever. Give me a map back to civilization and a package of jerky. Set me on fire and I’ll light my own way.
“Nelson, do you ever sleep?” I say.
“Oh yeah. Sometimes. Sometimes I get an hour or two here and there.” He shrugs, looking genuinely sad. “It’s a hard thing. But you’re kind of a vampire too. What brings you out at this hour? Here, man, let’s take a seat.”
I get a coffee and we move to one of the booths. Nelson says, “What the fuck happened to your face?”
“I had a run-in at the Depot Tavern.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah. I was . . . running off at the mouth to a big guy named Spode.”
“Rod Spode? I know that son of a bitch. He sells like, luxury boats to the Fudgie crowd. Always seemed like an okay guy to me. Bit of a meathead but generally okay.”
“Could be. I was at fault.”
“Too many beers?” says Nelson.
“Something like that.”
“Well good, man. Good for you. It takes a big man to admit he’s in the wrong. But let this be a lesson. Bad things happen when you leave Dawn Donuts.” He laughs and runs his hands over the table. “This place is like a, what do you call it. Sanctuary.”
I pause, sipping my coffee. It tastes perfect.
“Nelson, I’m gonna tell you something now.”
“Okie-doke,” he says. “Shoot.”
“It’s a secret,” I say.
For a moment he only looks at me. He leans back and puts his arms up on the booth behind him and his knees knock into mine as he stretches out. “Whup, sorry,” he says, shifting slightly. Now he’s ready to listen. His face has changed, eyes like I haven’t seen them before these few times we’ve talked, saying Take whatever you don’t want and throw it away, throw it into me, let me have it, fill me with all that you want to let go of.
“It starts with... it starts with my name,” I say.