Barry the Butcher

“How are those steaks coming momma?”

“Just fine baby.”

“Can I help you with anything?” I said, reaching for the piercing fork from her hand.

“Boy! Go set the table, you vulture.” She said slapping me away.

“But momma,” I began rubbing my hand, “last time ya burned ‘em. It don’t bother me none, but ‘member? You couldn’t git some of them larger pieces down.”

“Just cause a women’s loosing her eyesight don’t mean she can’t tell when meat is well done. Now git out of the way I need to move these off the grill.”

I held my breath as she transferred our meal from the grill to the plastic tray beside her. Below her palsied forearms our mutt sat licking his fangs. He waited anxiously for her arthritis to disrupt her movements. But I was relieved and he was disappointed as momma successfully carried the food over to our makeshift dining table.

She moved to set the glasses and I placed the bowl of mixed frozen vegetables. When I sat down the table lurched, I’d knocked loose the supporting plank, but I managed to catch the edge and set upright the plastic floral centerpiece before momma sat down across from me.

“I’ll say grace,” she said. I respectfully clasped my hands and bowed my head. But I kept an eye on the dog, who sat in the corner still eyeing our meat.

“Heavenly Father, we thank you for this generous bounty in front of us, for Barry’s generous manager who lets him to treat me to such fine quality dining. Let Barry keep this nice job, and please keep his truck from needing anymore repairs. In just one more month we’ll have paid off the first mortgage. Finally Lord please be with me as I struggle through loosing my sight, help me see the world through your eyes. Amen.”

“Amen.” I murmured and began helping myself.

“Have you heard about them poor children Barry?”

“Momma just eat your meat.”

“No Barry listen, I read it in the newspaper this morning. All over this town somebody’s still snatching up those little children off the street. In broad daylight too and they can’t figure out who done it. Sad part is they haven’t found any of them, not even their little dead bodies.”

“That’s real nice momma. So do you have any requests for tomorrow?” I asked her as I swirled around my steak.

“Hmm…what was it you brought home last Tuesday? It had an exotic name.”

“Was it the lamb?”

“No, it was something I had never heard of before…”

“Oh, the veal then?”

“Yes! That was it! Mmm it had such a succulent, tender taste.” Her fading eyes glistened in the yellow light above our heads. “It went so nicely with the last of the bread rolls.”

“Yeah it did, I’ll see if there is any left at the shop tomorrow.”

“That’d be nice dear.”

II

I left the house while the morning was still grey. I liked to be the only corpse with a pulse on my vacant street. I was worried that the garage door closing might wake momma, but I forget about it as I backed my truck down the driveway.

‘So momma wants veal.’ I thought. I pulled the clipboard out from under the dashboard.

‘Hmm…I went to Jameson last week…not Hunter…Phillips won’t work their starting to run low on near everything…it’ll have to be Baker then. Yeah, Baker. I haven’t been there in weeks anyhow.”

It took me two hours to get across town. I hate traffic. Every time someone would cut me off I just throttled my steering wheel a little tighter and ground my teeth to keep from doing anything regrettable.

Finally I reached the crossroads where Baker turned south. I turned on the sound system and drove to the east, down other streets in the neighborhood once or twice. It was never any good if they don’t hear me coming for a while. It gives them time to get all excited and ready. I finally turned down Baker St. and slowed down to a predatory stalk. I saw them coming to meet me and got excited myself.

They were standing there, waiting at the curb, so I pulled up to a stop and went into the back of my truck. The temperature dropped several degrees from the front compartment due to the freezers. I opened up the side panel and looked down at my customers.

“Hey Mr., how much is the Tweety one?”

“Well aren’t you a beautiful little girl.” Oh and she was. She had long golden hair that fell in a waterfall of ringlets down her back. Her skin still looked baby soft and fair. Oh so fair! If anything was wrong with her this girl needed some more time in the sun. But she was so lovely. So lovely. Oh and here was the best part! Down by her feet she was holding hands with a small boy. He could only be two years, three at max. What luck indeed.

“Why, for you Tweety Bird Popsicle is only 50 cents.” I smiled warmly down at her. She held out her small fist and I leaned down to place my paw beneath it. She smiled back and dropped two hot quarters into my palm. I straightened and put her money away.

“Just one moment sweetheart.” I left the window and pretended to rummage through my freezers. I actually had plenty of Tweety Bird Pops, right under the window, but I feigned to search and search. Finally I returned to the window with a sad countenance.

“Sugar I can’t find your Tweety, do you think you could come help me look for it?” I smiled real wide, showing her my large yellow teeth. If she looked hesitant it passed in an instant.

“Sure Mr. But you have to hold my baby brother cuz I am watching him for my mommy.”

“I don’t think that would be a problem. No. Not a problem at all.” I went to the back of my truck and opened up the little door. Just like a good little girl she handed me the baby and climbed right in. I shut the door with a clang which made her jump.

“Don’t worry honey, I just want to keep the cold air in so the ice cream don’t melt.” She nodded and began searching. She went straight for the front freezer under the window and pulled our her treat.

“ Mr. you’re so silly it was right under your nose the whole time.”

“Well what do you know?” I told her and I moved to sit her brother in the passenger seat. “There is something else I want to show you my precious little girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm and it is right here.”

III

I put on my long white coat and started cutting the meat into sections. Mm such nice pieces we would have: ribs and brisket and sirloin and chuck steak. My mouth was already starting to water.

“Well this should last us a full week. Oh and what luck to have veal for momma.” The problem with veal is that it’s never really a meal that last for more then a day. Still I took all the boy had to give me, so it would have to suffice.

“Maybe I’ll go home early and surprise momma with lunch.”

I pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. Afterwards I climbed back into the back compartment and opened up the other freezer across from the window. I pulled out some nice thick loins and went into the house.

“Hey momma! I got us some more meat!” She came bustling into the kitchen to meet me.

“Your boss is so generous Barry! These cuts look marvelous! I’ll start grilling them right away.” She smacked the meat down on the plastic tray and took it outside. The sizzle of cooking grease and the aroma of fresh steak swathed our porch.

“Barry I just can’t get my mind off those poor little children,” She flipped one of the cuts over to cook the other side. “I think we ought to write to the parents of them children. Let them know that we’re praying their little dears. Tell them we’re hoping they find their way home.”

“Sure momma.” I watched the fat slither down through the metal rack, “That would be real nice. Real sympathetic and nice.”