The Falls Read Free Page A

off?”
    â€œHer father wouldn’t let me see her,” I mumbled.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHe wouldn’t let me see her. He told me to go away.”
    â€œWhat did you say to tick him off?”
    â€œI didn’t even get a chance to say anything. He answered the door and told me to go away.”
    â€œWhy would he do that?” Timmy asked.
    â€œHe said I was a loser and he didn’t want his daughter hanging around with a loser.”
    Timmy started laughing. Just the sort of support and understanding I was looking for.
    Timmy pulled open the door of the Donut Hole. “After you . . . you loser,” he said, bowing at the waist.
    â€œShut up or you’ll be buying your own donut.”
    I walked into the smoke-filled donut shop. Most of the booths were filled—mostly with people who looked as though they hadn’t slept last night. Red eyes, rumpled clothes, cigarette in one hand, coffee in the other. Some of them probably came straight here when the casino closed and were just killing time until it opened again.
    â€œNext!” barked out the woman behind the counter.
    I stepped forward. “Two coffees and a couple of donuts . . . What do you want, Timmy?”
    â€œDouble-chocolate,” he said.
    â€œTwo double-chocolate donuts and a couple of coffees.”
    â€œ
Large
coffees,” Timmy added.
    â€œTwo large coffees,” I echoed. “One just cream and the other double-double.”
    â€œMake that
triple-triple
,” Timmy said. “That way I can get enough cream and sugar to keep me going until lunch.”
    The woman grunted out a response and went to fill the order.
    I turned to Timmy. “I don’t even know why we come here,” I whispered. “The donuts and coffee all taste like cigarettes.”
    â€œThat’s one of the reasons I
like
coming here,” Timmy said. “Besides, it’s close and it’s open.”
    â€œWe should go to a real donut place.”
    â€œThis is
real
,” Timmy said. “Maybe the problem is it’s too real for you.”
    â€œToo real? How can it be—?”
    â€œFour-fifty,” the woman said as she plopped down the donuts and the coffees. One of the coffees sloshed overthe top and onto the counter. She didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care.
    I handed her a five-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” I said.
    She grabbed it, grunted out something that might have been “Thank you” but could have just as easily been “Screw off,” and walked away.
    â€œIt’s the friendly service that keeps
me
coming back,” Timmy said.
    I pushed a lid down onto one of the coffees and Timmy did the same with the other. I grabbed one of the donuts. “Let’s get out of here. I want to get away from the smoke.”
    â€œYou know, that wouldn’t be a problem if you took my advice and started smoking,” Timmy said as he trailed after me out the door. “Instead of complaining, you could just inhale real deep, and it would be like getting your first smoke of the day for free.”
    â€œ
You
inhale. I’m planning on using my lungs for a long time and I want ’em to keep working. Let’s just go to the park and sit on a bench,” I suggested.
    Timmy peeled back the lid of his coffee and took a big sip. “Wrong one,” he said, making a face. “No sugar,” he explained, and we changed cups.
    We walked across the grass of the park. It was soggy underfoot. That was partly the dew, and partly just from the mist that came off the Falls. We weren’t even that close but the mist found its way to places far from the river.
    The park was practically empty. Except for us, the only person around was some guy lying on a bench onthe far side. Maybe he was sleeping it off, or maybe he just didn’t have any money or a place to crash. We stopped at a picnic table and I sat down on one