Akayuki (Red Snow)--Michael's Past Part 5

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction. It is intended for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual persons living or deceased is purely coincidental.

~o~

As promised, the boy stood outside the tea house the next morning when Michael arrived for work.

“Lonnie.” He used the name Annie had provided for him.

“Lonnie is a little shit,” she informed him during dinner. “I babysat him a couple of times when I was still in school. Just threaten to tell his mom he’s skipping school and he’ll leave you alone, guaranteed. He’s terrified of his mother.” Annie frowned and rubbed her pregnant belly. “In fact, so am I. She’s a yeller.”

The boy appeared surprised by the name drop then scowled at him.

“Mister Elam to you. Only my mom calls me Lonnie.”

“Speaking of your mother,” Michael said. “I should tell her where you are in case she goes to the school and doesn’t find you there.”

“She won’t. She doesn’t care about me.” The boy scuffed the ground with the toe of his sandal.

Michael offered no comment. He unlocked the tea house’s blue-painted doors and hung out the Open sign. The usual weekday routine.

“Can I help you?” Lonnie asked, as Michael tied on an apron. Like yesterday, the boy had invited himself not only into the tea house but also into the kitchen.

“Your hands are filthy, so no.” 

Lonnie checked the condition of his hands, which were dirt-coated and rushed out of the kitchen. “Be right back!”

Michael made no comment. He put the kettle on the stove and fetched the box of tea leaves.

Lonnie returned as Michael rolled the day’s first batch of dough into dango.

“Teach me,” the boy said, watching Michael work.

“If you want to learn, go to school.” Michael took the tray of dango to the oven.

Lonnie pulled a chair over and climbed onto it so he could reach the counter. He tore off a blob of dough and rolled it into a ball. The “dango” he crafted wouldn’t fit on a skewer larger than a katana.

“I suppose I can serve dumplings.” Michael took the oversized dango and pulled it apart. No point wasting dough.

“Let me try again.” Lonnie pulled off another chunk of dough.

“You’re using too much,” Michael scolded.

“Then teach me, Boogeyman-sensei.”

So Michael spent the hour teaching Lonnie to make dango. He allowed the boy to eat his creations. Michael didn’t want to make any customers sick eating newbie dango.