While pumping gas at a station in Youngsville, NY, I perused the photographic “menu” in the window, advertising the various foods served inside at the gas station grill. Among the offered delights was popcorn shrimp. Ugh. The story of Serrated grew from there.
I was very pleased that this was my debut story in the wonderful trampset, published in July, 2019. The story can be read below, or by going to the publication HERE.
*Update: Serrated was nominated for the 2020 Best Small Fictions.
Serrated
by
J. Edward Kruft
Tina ordered the basket of popcorn shrimp at the gas station. The guy who took her order had an oval tag on his striped shirt that read: “Billy.”
“I guess,” she said reluctantly, “you could tell them whatever you wanted.”
“Huh?” the attendant tilted his head.
“For your name tag,” she pointed. “If it were me, I’d tell them my name is Serrated. Like the knife. Only I’d pronounce it Ser-ray-TED. You know. Just to throw them off.”
Billy cleared his throat. “Anything to drink?”
“No,” said Tina, disappointed. “Just the shrimp.”
Girls at school thought she was homely. That’s one of the reasons she walked the almost mile to the gas station for lunch.
Homely. That was her father’s word for it, not hers, not the girls at school. Their words were different: ugly, roadkill, after-birth. And no, Dad, they’re not JEALOUS!
Weekends, she spent as much time as she could at her grandparents’ lake house. They also used words like homely but in a way that didn’t infringe upon her life. Because they were her mom’s parents she liked to think they had more common sense than a father has. She would go mornings to the clubhouse and sit on the swing not nearest, but not furthest away, either, from the merry-go-around where girls her age congregated and complained. She knew none of them by name.
“I heard Jenny’s been cutting.”
“School?”
“No, you moron. Herself.”
Tina wondered if Jenny used a serrated knife. She figured it would hurt more than using a sharp, straight blade, and after all, wasn’t that the point? If she was Jenny’s friend, she would tell her that it’s probably not a very good idea to cut herself at all, but if she really must, might she suggest the serrated knife?
The lake was too cold to swim, but she liked rolling up her jeans and standing ankle deep in the choppy water. She would close her eyes and count slowly until she could no longer feel her feet. Twenty-three seconds was the longest it ever took.
The last day of school for the year and today she ordered the popcorn shrimp from a guy named Mikey. She wondered if everyone who worked at Quicky-Mat had names that ended in “Y.”
Why.
“My name’s Ser-ray-TED,” she offered. Mikey just stared. Not the way the girls at school stared, with their upturned lips and their slitty little eyes. Mikey’s stare was blank and sort of stupid looking. But if you looked beyond that and sought the pale blue of his eyes and the lashes that made him look like he had on eyeliner, Tina decided she could love him if she wanted to, even though he was kind of old, maybe twenty-five.
“Anything to drink with that?” asked Mikey.
“Pepsi,” said Tina. Mikey turned toward the soda machine and then stopped.
“Is that really your name?” he asked. She felt seen. She nodded twice and then shook her head.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” His smile was a little toothy, she thought. But warm and seemed real. He filled the waxy cup with Pepsi and took his time putting on the lid, making sure it was sealed all around. As he placed the drink on the counter before her, her strongest desire was for him to say: “This one’s on the house.” But he didn’t. Instead, he looked over her shoulder to the next customer in line.
Tina sat on the bench outside, popping shrimp into her mouth one after another, pausing only to sip the Pepsi she had to pay for, and breathing-in the sweet smell of gasoline.
(BIO as it appeared in the original publication)
While pumping gas at a station in Youngsville, NY, I perused the photographic “menu” in the window, advertising the various foods served inside at the gas station grill. Among the offered delights was popcorn shrimp. Ugh. The story of Serrated grew from there.
I was very pleased that this was my debut story in the wonderful trampset, published in July, 2019. The story can be read below, or by going to the publication HERE.
*Update: Serrated was nominated for a 2020 Best Small Fictions award.
Serrated
by
J. Edward Kruft
Tina ordered the basket of popcorn shrimp at the gas station. The guy who took her order had an oval tag on his striped shirt that read: “Billy.”
“I guess,” she said reluctantly, “you could tell them whatever you wanted.”
“Huh?” the attendant tilted his head.
“For your name tag,” she pointed. “If it were me, I’d tell them my name is Serrated. Like the knife. Only I’d pronounce it Ser-ray-TED. You know. Just to throw them off.”
Billy cleared his throat. “Anything to drink?”
“No,” said Tina, disappointed. “Just the shrimp.”
Girls at school thought she was homely. That’s one of the reasons she walked the almost mile to the gas station for lunch.
Homely. That was her father’s word for it, not hers, not the girls at school. Their words were different: ugly, roadkill, after-birth. And no, Dad, they’re not JEALOUS!
Weekends, she spent as much time as she could at her grandparents’ lake house. They also used words like homely but in a way that didn’t infringe upon her life. Because they were her mom’s parents she liked to think they had more common sense than a father has. She would go mornings to the clubhouse and sit on the swing not nearest, but not furthest away, either, from the merry-go-around where girls her age congregated and complained. She knew none of them by name.
“I heard Jenny’s been cutting.”
“School?”
“No, you moron. Herself.”
Tina wondered if Jenny used a serrated knife. She figured it would hurt more than using a sharp, straight blade, and after all, wasn’t that the point? If she was Jenny’s friend, she would tell her that it’s probably not a very good idea to cut herself at all, but if she really must, might she suggest the serrated knife?
The lake was too cold to swim, but she liked rolling up her jeans and standing ankle deep in the choppy water. She would close her eyes and count slowly until she could no longer feel her feet. Twenty-three seconds was the longest it ever took.
The last day of school for the year and today she ordered the popcorn shrimp from a guy named Mikey. She wondered if everyone who worked at Quicky-Mat had names that ended in “Y.”
Why.
“My name’s Ser-ray-TED,” she offered. Mikey just stared. Not the way the girls at school stared, with their upturned lips and their slitty little eyes. Mikey’s stare was blank and sort of stupid looking. But if you looked beyond that and sought the pale blue of his eyes and the lashes that made him look like he had on eyeliner, Tina decided she could love him if she wanted to, even though he was kind of old, maybe twenty-five.
“Anything to drink with that?” asked Mikey.
“Pepsi,” said Tina. Mikey turned toward the soda machine and then stopped.
“Is that really your name?” he asked. She felt seen. She nodded twice and then shook her head.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” His smile was a little toothy, she thought. But warm and seemed real. He filled the waxy cup with Pepsi and took his time putting on the lid, making sure it was sealed all around. As he placed the drink on the counter before her, her strongest desire was for him to say: “This one’s on the house.” But he didn’t. Instead, he looked over her shoulder to the next customer in line.
Tina sat on the bench outside, popping shrimp into her mouth one after another, pausing only to sip the Pepsi she had to pay for, and breathing-in the sweet smell of gasoline.
(BIO as it appeared in the original publication)
J. Edward Kruft received his MFA in fiction writing from Brooklyn College, and has been a Best Small Fictions nominee. His stories have appeared or are forthcoming in several journals, including Cabinet of Heed, Johnny America and MoonPark Review. He believes he should have been left-handed. He lives in Queens, NY and Sullivan County, NY with his husband, Mike, and their adopted Siberian Husky, Sasha. His recent fiction can be found on his website: www.jedwardkruft.com and he can be followed @jedwardkruft.