Ewie: Chapter 3

He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from Mama Cho, hard soles scraping on the linoleum, and started towards the door.

"I've got a couple of errands to run and I'll be back about nine when you're closin' up," he said, waving at her as he made his way past the egg rolls and day-old rye muffins on display by the register. A wave of the potato casserole he ate earlier came up with a warm belch and it made his pants feel a little looser.

"Hmm," he mumbled.

She blew him a kiss and it hit the glass door as he walked outside into the asphalt heat. He adjusted his Foster Grants and squinted towards the busy boulevard.

Ninety-one degrees, the bank across the street displayed in big orange numbers, digitally laughing a silent laugh at the humans toiling below. Laughing especially heartily at the painted lady in a business suit attempting to change a flat tire while gripping her cellphone between her shoulder and ear.

"What the hell could possibly be that important for her to yap about," Ewie thought, shaking his head. He could hear her cuss as she wrestled with the tire iron. "Serves her right," he said to himself as he scratched his forearm.

Suddenly, a jagged-loud explosion from around the corner knocked him off his feet. He slowly got up and he could see fire and smoke billowing out of a small building next to a vacant lot that used to be Torgie's Fine Trivets before it was raized to built a supermall back in the 1980's. That never materialized so the lot stood empty, growing nothing but older as the years slipped by. Oh a few weeds poked up here and there, and kids with their knee-less wrinkled jeans would play army and Bye-Bye Susie in the big dirt piles, but other than that it was just another vacant lot.

Ewie ran over to see if he could help but the heat was too intense. Remembering that he had too much time and money invested in his hair implants (especially the ones on his lower forehead) to risk another fire rescue, he backed off and watched from a safe distance.

A small thin man stood next to him and gestured towards the fire. "Whaddya think was in that place that would make such an explosion?"

"No idea," Ewie replied. "I didn't even know there was anything in there. It always amazed me though, you know, the stone masonry, the ironwork."

"Yes, yes, yes, an exceptionally beautiful building it was," sighed the little man. "The architecture, the ambiance...well I suppose it's history now. Well, everything is history, with the passage of time considered omnipresent and constant..."

He pushed the soiled ballcap way back on his head and wiped off the beads of sweat with the back of his hand. All in all, he didn't really seem the biker type to Ewie. Maybe it was the deep scar on his cheek and the bridge of freckles across his brow. Or it could've been the black plastic hair pick sticking out of the back pocket of his corderory overalls. The Guns & Roses tattoo on his neck was a dead give-away though.

"Hmm," Ewie mumbled.

He felt a little bit nostalgic, and decided to take the long way home to his apartment, around the park and over the stone bridge. He said goodbye to the little thin guy and started towards home.