Page 3 of Love in Mission City: The Shorts

“A hunch.”

No point arguing or snickering.I grabbed my formerly extra-hot drink and headed out into the morning sun.

Our store faced south, so we had sun for a good part of the day.The sun blazed overhead, promising another scorcher.Mid-June, and we’d already set record temperatures for most of the spring.And really dry too, which meant my parents were likely to have to endure smoke from the wildfires.

I’d tried to dissuade them from heading up into the interior, but they’d tired ofcityliving.I missed them.

I pivoted away from the new store and headed down the road to Tim Horton’s.No line-up this morning, so I secured a cup of dark roast and a six-pack of Timbits.Nothing said gracious more than offering half-a-dozen donut holes.

As I wandered back past my shop, I snuck a peek into the front window.

Aristotle lay resplendent in her window seat, perched upon her preferred pillow.She was a favorite amongst all the patrons, although she was getting older.Still, she was as cute as the day I brought her home.

I’d heard about a litter of kittens found abandoned by the railway tracks.

They’d been in rough shape, and the littlest one had a broken leg, some nasty bites, and an infection.

Sunshine’s older sister, Dr.Zephyra Dixon, had stepped up to offer her veterinary skills for free.

The deal was, I could keep one of the kittens if I raised enough money to pay for the medicines they required.Being all of fifteen, I organized a bake sale at school and guilted everyone I knew into baking and then goaded them into buying the sometimes-questionable results.I raised enough to cover the costs for all the kittens.To my pride and joy, all found good homes.I got my pick of the litter and, of course, chose the little black-and-white one.

After recovering from her broken leg, Ari thrived under the love.

I begged my parents to bring her to the shop so she wouldn’t be alone all day.

They rolled their eyes, but did as I requested and, for all those years, they hauled that cat home every night and back to the store every morning.

When I moved in upstairs, she naturally followed me home every night.

Sunshine watched her while I was out of town.

She opened her eyes, blinked lazily in the sunlight, licked her paw, and then laid her head back down on the pillow.

I wouldn’t have her with me forever, of course, but I’d enjoy every minute until the time came.

Another engine blast raked across my nerves.

Determinedly, I stalked over to the store.

Spike’s Cycles’ façade was much the same as it’d been when the McKinneys owned it.Brown brick with a huge plate-glass window.The old-fashioned wood door had been replaced with a metal one, and the gray color stuck out as too modern.

Oh well.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

The waiting room had three metal chairs, a coffee table with some magazines, and a counter.A couple motorcycle posters adorned the wall.

The room felt jarringly new, but that’d soon dissipate, I was sure.I tried to see past the counter into the back room, but spotted nothing.I exited the store and headed around the corner.

They’d partitioned part of the old parking lot with high wire fencing and razor wire at the top.

It stood out like the proverbial sore thumb and didn’t fit with the aesthetic of First Avenue.

Well, maybe it matched the car dealership at the other end of the street, but that’d been there as long as I could remember.

An overhang covered much of the space, but part of the brick had been torn away to create a massive rolling door that sat open.Three motorcycles sat on the asphalt.No, wait, a fourth sporty type one sat off to the side.Lime green.

Oh, Lord.

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