The Donut Shop
A FILP Short Fiction
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
by Vince Wetzel
Copyright Vince Wetzel and OT Press
2005
“There’s no way Peyton Manning is a better quarterback than Tom Brady,” Jack said. For a man in his mid 80s, his mind and opinions were sharp. “Tom Brady already has three rings. Peyton has none.”
“Because Tom Brady has a whole team around him,” Tony said. “Peyton has to do everything himself. The stats speak for themselves.”
Fred bit into his donut and watched it all unfold in front of him. Fred was one of four regulars who came to Tony’s Paradise donuts in San Leandro at least three times a week, taking up three tables in the place. It wasn’t like they were going to be used by the families or worker drones coming in to pick out their dozen. Most of the time, the paying customers were brief interruptions to the debates they had on current events, sports, or the philosophical question of life.
Jack was a regular long before Fred started coming around four years ago. He prided himself as the elder and overall know-it-all and typically made condescending replies that were routinely debunked. Rounding out their foursome, Charles was a former sportswriter who now wrote a betting sheet and ran a small local book out of Tony’s donut shop.
“They will never be better than Joe Montana,” Charles said, ending the debate. In the Bay Area, Joe was the standard and mere mention of his name and four Super Bowl trophies was enough to get everyone to nod and move topics. “And besides, the Patriots won the Super Bowl two months ago. Can we at least talk about the draft or another sport.”
Fred was open to this. Yesterday was baseball’s Opening Day, and although the A’s wouldn’t celebrate their first home game for another week, he was happy the game was back. When the A’s opened up their home schedule next week, Fred was looking forward to his fourth season roaming the aisles as a member of the Guest Services crew.
“You all shut up,” Fred said. “The A’s highlights are coming up on SportsCenter.”
For Fred, the A’s highlights on ESPN were two minutes of appointment viewing. Fred looked up at the television above the donut counter.
“Now to the Baltimore Orioles hosting the A’s on Opening Day,” said the SporsCenter anchor Paul Buckley. “Barry Zito on the mound for A’s, now solo after Mark Mulder’s and Tim Hudson’s departure in the offseason. This is not the way he wanted his season as THE guy to start because Luis Matos blasts one to left center for a two-run homerun.”
Fred groaned. It could be a long year.
“But all was not lost. Mark Kotsay lays out in centerfield to rob former Athletic Miguel Tejada. That’s your the Blue Crab Special, the Catch of the Day.”
“I like that guy,” Jack said. “Like that Catch of the Day bit. He’s new, right?”
“Yeah, I just started noticing him a couple of months ago,” Tony said. “Funny kid.”
“Just give me my Chris Berman,” Charles said. “He could. Go. All. The. Way.”
Fred took a bite of his chocolate old fashioned, probably the donut that described him most. Sure, he wasn’t as old as Jack, a World War II veteran, Tony, a Korean War vet, or Charles, who served in Vietnam. But after more than 30 years in the Postal Service, Fred’s retirement status still allowed him to join the old-guys-eating-donuts club.
The small bell on the edge of the door dinged, announcing the entry of Derek, the ball of energy food hawker who always came in on Tuesday morning to settle his bets with Charles.
“Hey guys,” Derek said. “What a game last night.”
“The A’s lost. It’s going to be a long season,” Fred said. Baseball was the only sport he cared about. Four years ago, Derek suggested Fred become an usher for the A’s. Since then, Fred has watched more than 300 games and helped thousands of fans to their seats. It was a godsend to get him out of the house and his wife’s hair.
“Nah guy, college basketball,” Derek said. “North Carolina won the National Championship, beat the spread too, so we’re celebrating today.”
“That just makes you even on the NBA parlay you placed last week,” Charles said. “Congratulations, you’re square.”
“I know. I’m excited. The Masters are next week. What are the odds on Tiger Woods taking the Green Jacket.”
“I don’t know man,” Charles said. “I just do the big three plus a little hockey.”
“If I get you the line, can you back it?” Derek said.
“I’ll see. Are you sure you want to go do that though?” Charles said. “Do you even know anything about golf?”
“I just know Tiger is a stud,” Derek said. “He’s going to win this weekend. I can feel it.”
Charles shook his head and sighed. He pushed up from the table, willing his aging knees to obey. “Let’s go talk outside.”
Charles nodded toward the door and walked outside first, followed by Derek. Once outside, Charles had his hands on his hips. Fred tried to make out what he was saying, but could Charles’s lips barely moved. Instead, Derek became animated, waving his arms with purpose. Fred wondered if Charles and Derek were in Vietnam together. Charles was at the Fall of Saigon. Derek’s parents were Vietnamese refugees and brought Derek to the United States as a baby.
“What are they talking about?” Fred said.
“My guess is Charles is giving the kid a warning for his own good,” Tony said. “There are levels to gambling and Charles can tell when people start to get in over their heads. All in all, Derek’s been pretty good. Even if he gets behind, it’s not too bad, a couple hundred bucks or so. And he usually cuts himself off until he can get square with Charles. But when he wants to bet on sports he doesn’t know about, Charles knows that’s a level closer to a real addiction for the action. I’m sure that’s what they’re talking about.”
“Wouldn’t Charles want him to bet more?”
“Not when losses can’t be easily paid back. You know Charles. He doesn’t like his hands dirty. When folks get too far behind, then things can start to get ugly. He just wants to run a simple book.”
Fred looked outside. Derek took a step toward Charles. While Derek was four inches shorter than Charles, he was 20 years younger. Charles wasn’t giving any ground.
“Oh man,” Fred said. Before he could stand up, Tony was moving around the counter. He swung open the door.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me guy,” Derek said. “This is an easy bet. I’m even. What the fuck.”
“Derek, you need to cool off,” Tony said. “Maybe it’s best you leave.”
“Man, you old farts,” Derek said. “Maybe I need to find a new bookie.”
“Maybe you do,” Charles said. “But before you do, just think about why you gamble and how much you are willing to give and give up for it. Because some of these guys out there like taking payment in pain if you get far behind. You and me got a good deal. But others aren’t so forgiving.”
“Whatever,” Derek said. “I’m outta here.”
Charles and Tony walked back in and joined Jack and Fred in the shop.
“Well?”
“Who knows?” Charles said, his left shoulder moving slightly toward his ear. “He’s a nice kid, but I can tell he might get himself in trouble.”
“Don’t all gamblers?” Jack said. “I mean the ones who use you?”
“A lot keep themselves in check or count on me to keep them in check. Some, want the action and want to push it as much as possible,” Charles said. “Derek is flirting with it, but I think he’ll either return to his normal $100 bets, learn more about golf and how to bet on it, or he’ll leave me altogether. If it’s the last option, I’m afraid of where he goes next.”
“That’s too bad,” Fred said. “I like him. He’s pretty good hawking hot dogs and lemonade at the A’s games. And he’s the one who got me to be an usher.”
“Yeah. He’s pretty smart. He might be able to handle himself,” Charles said. “But, it could go either way.”
Copyright 2023 Vince Wetzel and OT Press
Stay tuned… Fred and Derek will return in Lose Yourself, a new novel out in Spring 2024.
Extra Mustard
TED LASSO. NO SPOILERS: I was an early viewer of Ted Lasso. In fact, I remember the Jason Sudeikis promos for the Premiere League on NBC Sports Network nearly 10 years ago. Like many, I first thought it would be a football/soccer version of the film Major league. But, the humor, the quick wit, the characters, and of course, the heart showed us all it was quite different. It was the perfect salve to the crazy summer of 2020, amidst the pandemic, racial unrest and political upheaval. We all just wanted to “Believe.” Believe in Hope. Believe in Kindness. Believe in People. Believe in Humanity. And through these three years, it has provided us characters for whom we can root or who break our hearts. It’s been about finding redemption and understanding that we can all grow if we put in the work, show grace, and ask for help along the way. Isn’t that what being human is all about? Not about getting ahead at all costs but trying to a better person today than you were yesterday. The season finale ends, mostly, where we all expect and I’ll always be “Richmond Till I Die!” Share your thoughts. (Bonus Points if you can point out the Cheers finale reference in the Ted Lasso finale)
Looking across social media, it’s the end of the school year and graduation. Seeing pictures of graduates on the cusp of new journeys ahead is always exciting. In our community, there are kids who have seen each other for at least six hours a day for 13 of their 18 years. They’ve had shared experiences in their community for the majority of their lives. Beginning this Fall, that will start to splinter with grads going into the military, trade school, college, or beginning their professional career. Their journeys are now their own, full of hope, optimism, and potential. Good luck to them all!
Looking forward to watching season 3 of Ted Lasso! Believe!