One Ghost Per Serving by Nina Post

Author:Nina Post
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781620070727
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Published: 2012-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Eric stopped into the frigid and sweet-smelling Moo-ateria, a dairy-themed store and counter he found just outside of Jamesville. The Moo-ateria sold the entire line of Quantal products, including Quantal Organic Yogurt. They also sold milk, sour cream, other brands of yogurt, eggs, and ice cream cakes, and made egg creams and milkshakes at the counter.

Eric pulled up a stool and ordered a plain vanilla shake from a man in a cow costume. He needed the calories. The guy’s nametag read ‘Patrick.’ He had watery blue eyes and pale, freckled skin.

“Hey, are you Eric Snackerge?” Patrick said, taking a tin container off a stack.

Eric shook his head. Those damn videos. “Look, Patrick, I don’t want to be rude, but I’ve had a crappy day and an even crappier week, so I really don’t feel like talking about –”

“You’re like, my hero.” Patrick inserted the cup, turned on the mixer, then raised his voice as he spoke over his shoulder. “You’re an inspiration. I read the piece in the paper about how you had all this hope for the future and then the universe just barfed in your hair, like my roommate’s dog did to me yesterday. In bed.”

Eric felt a warmth in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it was. The effect of empathy? Heartburn?

Patrick was about to pour the shake from the tin into a glass when Eric put up a hand. “Just the tin. And a straw.”

Patrick arched a brow but handed him a gaily striped straw. Eric relaxed as he drank the sweet and thick vanilla shake, steadily and without stopping. “I … well, you and I,” Patrick said, “we’ve got something in common.”

Eric paused to speak and watched the level creep down in the inside of the tin. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Patrick said, cleaning the machine. “The point is, I had a similar situation. My parents thought I would accomplish –” he took in a breath, “more. And now I’m serving you a milkshake. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an honor, but I’m working in the Moo-ateria in the middle of nowhere. But you took on this big project, and you’re still at it, aren’t you?”

Eric drank the rest of the shake through the yellow-striped straw. “Yep. Still at it.”

“That’s great.”

Eric paid for his milkshake and got all of the Quantal Organic Yogurt they had. He thanked Patrick, wished him good luck, then went back outside. It was a crisp October day. The leaves were still a brilliant red and orange, though he knew an upcoming cold snap would strip them down. An Amish buggy with two glossy brown horses clipped down the road past fat orange pumpkins and twined bales of hay. Eric stopped to enjoy it. And since he hadn’t had a proper lunch, just a milkshake, he took a yogurt out of the bag and peeled off the lid, though he was getting tired of dairy and would kill for a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich, or a steak.

On the underside of the yogurt lid, there was a phone number.

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