The Meth Lunches by Kim Foster

Author:Kim Foster
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

* * *

Marina pulls out into the street. She speeds away.

I go back inside. Raffi offers me a piece of quesadilla. It tastes like my mother’s corn muffins. We stand around the butcher block, sampling Marina’s cake.

“It was nice of that lady to give us this cake! And like for no reason,” Raffi says, popping a piece in his mouth.

I take a bite.

“It sure is.”

* * *

The first thing Coco does after hugging me is run through the front door. Through the house. And out into the backyard where the chicken coop is.

She does not even say hello to her fellow humans.

She is the chicken whisperer.

Coco is twelve, the exuberant daughter of Emilie and Chantal. Also a child who wears cool clothes and a rainbow of hair colors.

Emilie and Chantal are driving for a delivery service. They drive for all the big delivery services: Amazon, DoorDash, Uber Eats. Then, after their work is done, they deliver food to people who are in even deeper shit than they are.

They are always in their vehicle, a clunky Suburban with dents and scraped paint. Not pretty, but a warhorse. They cobble together the money for rent and keep the lights on in their trailer while eating from USDA food boxes. They come to the pantry often, usually bringing as much for others as they take for themselves. It’s been rough. They are caring for their two kids along with Emilie’s disabled mom. They hop out of their rough-looking Suburban with stories of clashing with the public.

“This lady sent me to buy $1,000 worth of groceries for charity.” Emilie isn’t even out of the car before she is well into the story. She is round and pale and badass, with her platinum crew cut.

“I bought all this food and delivered it to the place … and you’re not gonna believe this…” She is pointing at me from the middle of the street.

“That bitch didn’t even tip me. On a $1,000 order for CHARITY.”

We give each other a masked hug.

“It’s devastating. To do all the work, everything she asked for,” she says, her hands flying in big thrusts as she talks.

Emilie counted on that nice fat tip for her hours of work. It doesn’t come. In her attempt to gather food for charity, the buyer didn’t think that maybe the person packing her order needs money, too.

Despite her hilarious delivery, the result is devastating for the family.

They pick up extra USDA Farm to Family boxes from various locations around the city. They bring some to the pantry. These boxes are supplied by the government. They are given out by food banks, tribes, community pantries, and churches. People are so desperate, they line up around streets and neighborhoods in long, winding lines to get one or two per family.

Emilie and Chantal have several boxes in the back for some families in their trailer park. They hand me four boxes. I unload them into the pantry.

This Farm to Family box has precooked meatballs, a bag of onions,

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