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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2194230-The-Shoe
Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #2194230
It was the worst day of my life until it turned into the best day ever.
The Shoe


My world had collapsed. I had just seen my Life fly out the window as my boss said, "You're fired!" He didn't give me time to gather things out of my desk, "They'll mail your stuff to you." I didn't even know what I had doneā€”no explanation, no severance, no hope for a recommendation. I figured I'd have to ask him why later after he had a chance to mellow.

As I walked in a daze down Main Street, cars whizzed by, people bumped into me, but I never raised my head out of a steady stare at the sidewalk, thinking, "What am I going to do? I'm already a month behind on my rent. I've tapped out mom and don't know where dad is or how to get word to him. Mom won't call him for me. My sister might help if her husband will let her. God, I hate spouses." At that moment, I passed a little Italian restaurant, and the smell sponsored an eruption inside my stomach as a long-drawn-out growl and a rumble. I checked my pockets for cash--nothing. I walked on through the cloud of freshly baked pizza doe smothered with tomato sauce, garlic, pepperoni, sausage, and a dash of onion. Then a ravenous hunger halted my travel, "I have a credit card, with some credit left on it."

I stepped through the door like I owned the place, turned immediately, and took a seat. I sat staring out the front window as a beautiful young woman confronted me with an order pad. "What can I get you?"

"Uh, I don't know. What you got?" I said, still swimming inside her emerald green eyes.

"You got a menu right in front of you, don't you?" she answered.

I looked on the table under my elbows, and she was right. I smiled, picking up to the menu, then smiled again, saying, "Can you give me a minute?"

She turned to walk away. As she turned, her hip dipped to her right, and she fell to the floor.
I immediately dropped my menu, jumped into the floor, and knelt beside her. At first, I was afraid to touch her. I feared being accused of causing the accident. As she rolled into a sitting position, clutching her right leg, I reached out and took her other arm to steady her, "Can I help?"

She starred into my eyes as tears formed, then rolled down her cheek. Her glassy green eyes glistened like jewels, and I couldn't pull my eyes away. She released her injured leg and wiped her cheek with her right hand, leaving her left arm still in my grasp.

Suddenly a face appeared in the serving window to the kitchen, then disappeared just as quickly. An older man ran through the kitchen's double doors and knelt as he lifted the girl in his arms. He stood, gingerly, then headed for the front door. He stopped beside the door, turned back toward me, and spoke, "Please, give me a hand. I've got to get her to the Doctor's office across the street." Her head lay on his shoulder, tears flowing, soaking into his shirt.

I lept into a jog, grabbed the door, and swung it into the sidewalk, not thinking of pedestrians. I slammed the door in our wake, then followed the older gentleman across the street. We ran up one flight of stairs, and into the Doctor's office.

A nurse rushed from behind her desk. She grabbed a wheelchair from a closet in the hallway, then hurried to the side of the older man. He lowered the young woman into the chair.
The nurse whirled the wheelchair around, then turned back to us and said, "I'll take her right into the Doctor. He's consulting a patient, but he'll want to see her next."

The older man sat next to me, then spoke. "I hate to ask another favor of you, but will you go back to my shop and lock the door. Just turn the knob on the inside of the door, and it will lock when you shut it. Please."

I nodded, "Sure, is she going to be okay?"

He smiled, "I believe she will. She probably just turned her ankle, but I love my daughter very much, and I'm not going to take a chance. You're a very nice young man. Come by another day, and I'll fix you the best pizza you've ever had. On the house!"

The nurse peeked through the door of the examination room and motioned for the older man to follow her. They both disappeared through the doorway.

*****


When I returned to the restaurant, I opened the door and searched the dining room to ensure no one was there. Finding the place empty, I went inside, groping the backside of the door to turn the lock. I smelled something burning, so I went into the kitchen. The grease on the grill smoked, so I turned off the grill then scraped the burnt crumbs into the tray running along its front. I dropped the dirty spatula into the soapy water in the sink and walked out the kitchen door toward the dining room. As I rounded the side of the serving counter, I noticed an object jutting out from under the booth, where I had sat when the waitress fell. It was her shoe. It must have fallen off, or she pulled it off after she twisted her ankle. A white Keds tennis shoe, and as I lifted it from the floor, I noticed something written inside, on the tongue. "Angella Carmen, 256 Cleghorn Avenue, Birmingham, 248-633-2996."

I smiled and slipped the shoe into my back pocket. Then I walked out the front door, listening for the latch to click as I exited.

"This may have been the best day of my life," I thought.

Without realizing it, I began to whistle a happy little song as I walked down the sidewalk toward my apartment.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2194230-The-Shoe