thank you for helping us fry

thank you for helping us fry
(Part of the bacon pete and other people collection You can find the whole thing so far at:
https://www.facebook.com/delormewriting )
Warning: Adult language and situations


buckshot liked pie.
he especially liked the pie at the two toes diner.
he liked the all day big breakfast too. bacon. two sausages. three eggs. two pancakes. a biscuit and jam from a jar.
myrna and the other one, the sister who was mostly always in the kitchen, were bitches. they could learn a lesson or two about customer service but they could cook and they made great pies.
most of the time you didn’t know what kind of pie it was going to be until you walked through the door. sometimes you could just smell it from the parking lot. cherry. apple. strawberry. sugar. pecan. peach. and buckshot’s personal favourite strawberry rhubarb.
the place was a shithole.
ceiling yellow from all the cigarette smoke. dirty windows that you could barely see through. floor could use about ten good scrubbings.
but they sure knew how to make pie.
and they didn’t overcook the bacon.
today was cherry pie which was buckshot’s second favourite.
he finished his last bit of pancake. buckshot liked his pancakes with butter and nothing else. no maple syrup. no jam or fruit. he liked to taste the pancake. he didn’t know why people wanted to spoil a good pancake.
he finished the last few bites and myrna came over. asked buckshot if he wanted pie.
of course he wanted pie.
myrna didn’t talk much except to her sister. buckshot liked that much about her. it meant not too many stupid questions. that suited buckshot just fine. but that was a stupid question myrna always asked.
not once. not fucking once did buckshot not get pie in all the years he’d been coming to the two toes diner.
buckshot just nodded his head.
myrna leaned forward to pick up his plates and that stupid pendant necklace hung there for a moment.
buckshot knew what it said.
he knew what it said by heart.
thank you for helping us fry.
stupid.
he even knew the stupid story behind the stupid necklace.
buckshot never asked because he didn’t give a shit but he heard her tell the story to people who asked about hundred times or so. both sisters had it and it was supposed to say thank you for helping us fly because they paid for their nephews’ first plane trip way back when about a thousand years ago but they got the spelling wrong and they never got it changed. so now it said thank you for helping us fry.
stupid.
but people seemed to love that stupid story. stupid people.
buckshot didn’t give a shit if it was true or not. he just ate his big breakfast and his pie and kept himself to himself. myrna was a moody bitch and she spent half her time shouting at her whatshername sister in the kitchen. sometimes she yelled at customers and sometimes she was as friendly as could be. the sister hardly ever came out of the kitchen but you could see whatshername cooking and smoking non stop through the door to the kitchen. lots of the time she looked like she was talking to herself. crazy bitches.
myrna brought the pie and put it on the table in front of buckshot. she didn’t ask if he wanted ice cream with it. buckshot never wanted ice cream with his pie. he didn’t understand why anyone would want to spoil a good pie with ice cream. pie was pie and ice cream was ice cream. why people wanted to mix them up was beyond buckshot.
myrna wandered into the kitchen and shouted at her sister whatshername for a while and buckshot ate his pie. he took his time and enjoyed every bite.
buckshot didn’t like to rush things.
he liked to take his time and he especially liked to take his time with pie.
myrna stood in the doorway for a while shouting at her sister and the sister whatshername shouted back. sometimes they argued in english. sometimes in french. and sometimes they screamed at each other in mohawk.
buckshot only understood the english but he didn’t even bother listening to that. they were stupid crazy bitches.

the pie was all that mattered.
the pie and the big all day breakfast.
buckshot’s mother tried to teach him mohawk. he didn’t see a reason to learn a language nobody except people on the island ever spoke. english was just fine as far as buckshot was concerned. everybody seemed to speak that. lots of french people in the city and lots of people on the island who grew up speaking french but buckshot thought french was a stupid language and most of the french people could understand english just fine even if they pretended they didn’t.
screw anyone who didn’t speak english.
buckshot just wanted to be left alone to enjoy his pie.
it wasn’t strawberry rhubarb.
the place was a shithole.
and myrna and her whatshername sister were crazy and lousy at service.
but the cherry pie was pretty damn good.
and they didn’t overcook the bacon.



#writing #writer #writers #poetry #poem #poems #poet #JulesDelorme #JulesFDelorme #delormewriting #ScarboroughWritersFightClub #baconpete #baconpeteandotherpeople #akwesasne #cornwall #cornwallisland# #stlawrenceriver #pollysgut #native #indigenous #indigenousstory #indegenousstories #indigenousstorytelling #shortstory #shortstories

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