Breathless: Tales of Darkness

The Secret Recipe

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     Frank couldn't tell if it was sweat rolling down his back or if he just didn't sufficiently dry off after his shower. His trailer didn't have air conditioning and in this Mississippi humidity, it was almost unbearable. Funny thing was - it was only 8:30 AM - and it was already so muggy that birds would fly with one wing just so they could fan themselves with the other. He needed to finish getting dressed and get to work, it was his third week there.

     Walking the 3 miles to work on State Hwy 42 was all flat, but in this heat, it felt like 300 miles. Still, he made it to Petunia's on time. He was the sole cook for Petunia Pig's Hickory Smoked BBQ in Bergenville, MS. It had won the distinct award of Best BBQ in the State of Mississippi since it opened in 2006. Annie Pearl, the owner, was a hurricane Katrina transplant who had seen enough flooding, high crime and chaos that Nawlin's had to offer. At 44, she had decided to start over. She had bought this place with FEMA money, and remodeled it to include a two-bedroom apartment upstairs. She had lived there with her sister, Talia, for three years. Business was so good that she had been able to buy a house in town, and was quite content with her new hometown community.

     His shift started at 9 AM, when he would enter through the back, and begin pulling all of the pork and beef off of the ribs from the smokehouse. Petunia's opened at 10:30, and there seldom wasn't a day that it wasn't packed to the gills by 11 AM. Everyone in town seemed to eat there, as the only other place to eat was Red's, which was a mediocre steakhouse on down the road towards Jackson. They closed at 7, and he would be there until 8 most nights, cleaning up and restocking the kitchen and dining room while Annie Pearl and Talia counted the money and made the deposit.

     Annie Pearl and Talia guarded their seasoning rub like Coca-Cola guards it's formula. They were the only two people in the world who knew its mixture. Frank wasn't even allowed in the smokehouse, for fear he'd figure out the secret recipe and sell it to all of the bigger BBQ chains in Jackson and Hattiesburg. Not only was the flavor right, but every bite of meat was the most juicy and tender anyone had ever tasted before, thus earning her all of those awards on the wall. And the price was just right, too! $5.99 included a sandwich, side and drink, while $7.99 got you the platter with three sides, a drink and dessert. Not a bad deal at all.

     The day went like any other, with the lunch rush lasting until 2 or so, then about an hour lull, and it would pick up with customers wanting an early supper or placing a pick-up order to go. They closed up promptly at 7, and Frank began his clean up process.

"Frank," Miss Annie Pearl called out. "Can you please take that last half of ribs and go on ahead and pull the meat. We got a big order in the morning, and I don't want us to get behind."

"Yes ma'am, Miss Annie P!", he answered. He was slightly annoyed, but he didn't have anywhere to be. His girlfriend, Rhonda, had left him a few months ago for community college in Hattiesburg. Her words to him still stung him as if it were yesterday. He replayed it again in his mind.

"I'm leavin' your sorry, no good ass! You have no ambition. You love this shithole of a town that has no future. I don't care that your momma left you this trailer, I'm not staying here another day!"

"What did I do?"

"Nothin'! That's the point! I want more outta life than to grow old and die in a fucking mobile home with no a/c!" She spun around to face him.

"And don't start your pity party speech, about not havin' no friends, no family and I'm all that you got. I. DON'T. CARE!" And with that, she whirled back around and grabbed her suitcase and a Walmart bag full of odds and ends.