Ike had the truck running when he hopped in. He had barely closed the passenger door before Ike was mashing the gas pedal to the floor and backing out of the strip mall’s parking lot. He executed a three-point turn and crossed the grass-covered median. Once they were a few miles from the Time and Thyme, Buddy Lee let out a whoop.
“What the hell was that for?” Ike said.
“Shit, man, it feels good to be doing something. We not just sitting in the dark crying anymore. We doing something for our boys. For a minute I didn’t feel like a piece-of-shit father,” Buddy Lee said.
“We didn’t find out anything. It was a waste of time,” Ike said.
“Maybe. But it felt good slapping those punk asses around, didn’t it? Shit, we did what their parents should’ve done a long time ago. Blue Fucking Anarchists. What the hell is that?” Buddy Lee said.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Ike said.
“You didn’t?” Buddy Lee said.
Ike didn’t answer.
TEN
“I think that’s it over there,” Buddy Lee said. Ike pulled the truck up to the sidewalk and parallel-parked it with surprising ease.
“You know how to wheel this thing, don’t you?” Buddy Lee asked.
“Part of the job,” Ike said.
They got out of the truck and started walking down the sidewalk a few feet until they stopped in front of a building with a flashing LED sign in the door. The sign said ESSENTIAL EVENTS BAKERY.
“You sure this the place?” Ike asked.
“Yeah. Fairly sure. The last time I talked to Derek he mentioned he was up for a promotion at his job. I asked him where he worked. He didn’t want to tell me at first. I guess he thought I’d come down here and embarrass him. Ask them to make me a titty cake or something.”
“A titty cake?” Ike said.
“Told ya it’s been a few lonely years,” Buddy Lee said. Ike felt a smile trying to crawl across his face, but he pushed it away.
“Hey, before we go in here, I guess I should say thanks for having my back over there earlier,” Ike said. Buddy Lee shrugged.
“I know you don’t particularly like me. And to be honest you’re kind of an asshole. But we in it to win it now,” Buddy Lee said.
“Yeah, I guess so. You think they know anything about what happened?” Ike asked.
“Fuck if I know. But where else we gonna go?” Buddy Lee responded.
Essential Events Bakery was housed in a cavernous building with high ceilings and multiple skylights tinted a light green. It gave the interior a vibrant verdant hue. Ike could taste sugar in the air and smell bread baking. His mouth began to water like a Pavlovian dog’s. Several tables were set up throughout the building with a multitude of displays. Sixtier wedding cakes, flower-shaped loaves of bread, cupcake towers, skewers of beef and chicken arranged in interlocking levels like a puzzle. There was a cornucopia of epicurean designs and delights. Buddy Lee walked up to one of the cakes and extended his finger.
“It’s covered in polyurethane,” a young man said. He was standing behind a counter with a cash register and more examples of the artistry Essential Events was capable of creating. Behind him a blackboard listed the daily specials in bright-red chalk.
“Damn that icing look good,” Buddy Lee said. The young man smiled. He had a wide grin with huge teeth that were as white as his pale skin. His light-blond hair was tied up in a short bun on top of his head like a sumo wrestler’s topknot.
“It is. But these are just for display. See anything you like?” The young man asked. Buddy Lee walked over to the counter. He smiled back at the man.
“Well, to be honest, we’re not here to buy any cakes. I’m Buddy Lee Jenkins,” Buddy Lee said as he held out his hand.
“I’m Brandon Painter,” Brandon said as he shook Buddy Lee’s hand. Buddy Lee had felt a firmer grip from his grandmother on her deathbed.
“Nice to meet you, Brandon. That big ol’ bear back there is Ike Randolph.”
“Are you guys looking for cake for a special occasion? Are we celebrating an anniversary?” Brandon said with a smile. Buddy Lee frowned.
“Say what?” he asked. Brandon smiled again.
“Hey, it’s all good, man. We ain’t like that baker in Colorado. We’ll make a cake or set out a spread for anyone. You two make a nice couple,” Brandon said. Buddy Lee glanced back over his shoulder at Ike. Ike glowered back at Buddy Lee.
“Nah, son, you got it mixed up. We ain’t … like that. My son is … was Derek Jenkins. He was with Ike’s son, Isiah,” Buddy Lee said.