Phoenix

I pulled up in front of Phoenix Cafe. The neon sign shown a hazy red in the fog. I got out of the car I'd borrowed, it was my mom's, an orange Ford Escape and turned back to press the lock key as I walked to the door. One door has always been broken and I always forget which. I heard the car honk as it's flashers went off twice in quick succession. They were hazy in the fog too. Why is it this foggy? This is San Antonio, at noontime, there should 't be a fog like this, especially in the summer. I couldn't see anything around the cafe as I pushed at the broken door. Two bells hanging from a string above the working door rang lightly when I entered. The air inside seemed to be thick too. Like a cloud was hanging around the ceiling. There was no one inside. I walked in, ignoring the fish tank. It was small and the fish aren't worth watching. I'd expected someone to welcome me as I walked up to the front desk, but no one was there either. I'd been here a million times, almost daily during my senior year of highschool, and they knew me here. Me and my server even had a secret handshake called happy salmon. I walked over to a small table and sat down. Somehow there was already a glass of iced tea waiting for me. I prefer sweet, but they don't have that here. Was it cold in here? I wished I'd of brought a jacket in with me. But it's summer, why would I have a jacket. Then all of a sudden Thomas, my server, was next to me and we were doing happy salmon. He took my order quickly. Mongolian Triple? Yes please. Hot and sour? Yes please. Fry rice or steam? Fried please. It be right out. Thank you Thomas. I didn't notice him leave. There were people to my right now, in the booth by the window. All I can see outside is white fog pressing in. It looks likes it's coming through the glass, the gray light is condensing the air inside. God it's cold in here. I look down and my food is there, back up and the people in the window booth are gone. Then Thomas is there with a fortune cookie resting on the check and it's foggy inside too, I can't even see to the cashier counter and as he walks away he disappears. It's fucking chilly, I want a jacket. Is the room rocking? And what is that drumming? I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, not realizing I was holding it. One... Two... Three... Open.

The first thing I see is the thin wooden wall full of knots next to my bunk on the barge. There's the soft pitter patter of rain on the tin roof and the barge is slowly rocking back and forth from the small swells that live in the strait. I suddely remember I'm holding my breath, and let it out slowly, silently, so as not to wake Corey. Then I remember he's not even here, he must've been too drunk to make it up the ladder last night. No doubt him and Max are both on the Deer Harbor. The generator isn't running either, it's been having issues lately. No wonder it's so cold. I zip my sleeping bag up a little more and snuggle into it. It's only 6am. Confident that I'll be warm again soon, I snuggle deeper into my bag, flip my dreads to a more favorable position, and lay my eyelids down in order to fall back into sleep. One... Two... Three... Open.

The fortune cookie taste is sweet in my mouth. I can feel the fortune crumpled in my hand and, due to superstition, I refuse to read it until I've finished eating the cookie. Only after I wash down my last swallow with iced tea am I brave enough to look down. The paper looks so small and insignificant in my large hand as I bring it close enough to read... "And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good"

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Thank you Elisa