Burning Down Boise: Book One in The Way of Dan by Franklin Horton

Author:Franklin Horton [Horton, Franklin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-07T16:00:00+00:00

23

Cutting through the medical campus to Idaho Street, Dan soon left the scene behind. The terrain transitioned back into tree-lined residential neighborhoods. He passed several folks hurrying toward the hospital in scrubs or white coats. The neighborhood was a mix of businesses and homes, but became more commercial as he got closer to downtown. By the time he crossed 5th Street, the road was wider and the buildings taller. It had a small city feel to it but he could see even larger buildings in the distance.

He smelled cooking coming from some of the houses he passed. He imagined families attempting to rustle up breakfast on their backyard grills. Cereal and milk would soon be a thing of the past, as would Pop Tarts. His surroundings became more urban and there were more people moving around, but the smell of food was gone. People in work clothes stood around the closed entrances to restaurants, trying to understand why their routines were being disrupted. What were they supposed to do with this? Where were they supposed to get their coffee and their breakfast? They clearly had no idea.

Dan passed a bakery on the corner of a two-story brick building. A woman in an apron had propped the door open with a chair. She was posting a handwritten sign that read: Day Old Goods! Still fresh! Cash only!

Dan had no pride where baked goods were concerned. He’d eaten too many old, stale donuts in his life to claim otherwise. Lured by the sign, he veered in that direction and stepped in the door.

The pale ambient light coming through the tall windows was the only illumination. Chairs were turned upright on tables from last night’s sweeping. A woman around his own age, long hair tucked into a green cap, was the only person working. She was arranging baked goods in the display cases, most of them covered in plastic to retain the freshness for as long as possible.

“Good morning,” she said.

He detected a western European accent, but that was as far as he could narrow it. His part of Tennessee wasn’t known as an international destination so his experience was lacking. She gave him a thorough look, as if balancing the need for caution against the need for making money while she still had something to sell. He stared at the cases, skipping over the fancy braided breads and artisan loaves. He wanted pastries.

“Good morning,” he replied. “I really like apple fritters. What do you have with icing, fat, and too much sugar?”

She smiled. “You’re in luck. I make a mean apple fritter. It’s this way.” She walked a few cases down and gestured at several trays of glazed goodness.

Dan began to smile too. It was just what the doctor ordered.

“I can’t accept anything but cash. No cards. And I have some fresh coffee brewing on the propane stove.”

That sealed the deal. “Perfect. I have cash. How much for one of these apple fritters and a large coffee?”

She named the price and he counted out the money while she got his order together.

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