Cold Turkey

by Steve Liskow

About the Author: Steve Liskow (www.steveliskow.com) has published over 50 short stories and been a finalist for both the Edgar Award and the Shamus Award. He has also won the Black Orchid Novella Award twice. His latest novel is Words of Love.

Excerpt

Harley Markham stands to my left, serving stuffing to the homeless who creep by like a freight train, their clothes faded to the color of pavement. So are their eyes.

“This is so stupid,” Harley mutters. His lower lip is thick as a turkey drumstick when he pouts, and if he were any bigger, he’d need a street number. He’d also probably be playing in tomorrow’s Thanksgiving Day football game against East Side, but he doesn’t have a “C” average, the minimum to be eligible for sports.

“No.” That’s Ms. Wiznacki, our guidance counselor. She’s on my right and wears an apron like the rest of us, her hair with its emerald streak peeking from under the paper cap. She’s got to be at least thirty, but, even in the apron, she’s seriously hot.

“Stealing a car with almost no gas and no spare tire,” she says. “That’s stupid. And then having three joints in your pocket when the police catch you.”

“I found them in the car.”

“Right.” She ladles squash onto another plate. “You’re lucky you just turned sixteen in August so your juvenile record didn’t get brought up.”

She’s got him there and we both know it. The judge gave him community service and probation instead of locking him up, so he’s with the rest of us at the Sullivan Street Food Bank, serving for the Thanksgiving feast. It’s worth six of his sixty hours, and Ms. Wiznacki is making sure he works every second.

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