The Phantom at the Hamburger Stand

It was the middle of the afternoon when he cut through the parking lot on his bicycle. His backpack slung low over his shoulder, he leaned in front of me on the railing with his head close to the window. I couldn't hear exactly what he was saying over the train whistle overhead. He pulled a few crumpled dollars out of his jeans and flattened them on the counter with his palm, sliding it to the attendant who promptly disappeared. The window stood in front of me. I went through the same charade, flattening the paper currency on the counter. We stood gracelessly. He held his bike while away from his body while I bent my neck awkwardly looking between the trashcan and the ground. From the window the attendant held a paper cylinder, calling out in my direction. "Thirsty?" he said as I plunged the straw into my prize. "Yeah." "Say, I come here about every day after work. There ain't nothin' beat a good burger, I usually get two or three. You work by here?" "Yeah, I work at the library." "There's a library near hear? No kidding?" "It's on the avenue behind Wendy's" "No foolin' you ever get busy?" "Some days," I replied and took another drink. He said, "Yes sir, I do my best to keep up with the machines," he was looking past the railroad tracks. "I work over there, in the warehouse. They pay me and I try my best to keep up and I get me three cheeseburgers," he said with a wink. "I figure I'll work here 'till I can't keep up no more then I'll move along." We both stared into the distance. The air was like glass, despite the smoke stacks, a cluster of totems on every horizon. A cement truck floated past, grumbling and churning. Beneath its noise, the attendant said something and shoved a white bag in his direction. Getting onto his bicycle, he thanked her and took the package. Wobbling across the parking lot, he turned and said, "You have a great Halloween, my man." I thanked him, wished him the same, and turned around to see my bag waiting for me. Walking towards my car, I saw him hobble across the street on his bike. A train was scooting ahead of him. At first I saw him wobbling towards the crossing, then he went straight into it. Between the passing cars, I saw him safe on the other side, the wheels floating along the pavement towards the warehouse where he would work on his machines.