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It never occurred to me that Hal might have a life beyond Rangeman. He was a nice guy, but he looked like he ate kale and raw meat, and his sole recreation was skinny-dipping in the ocean in January.
Our little deli family was huddled together. Moments before we’d been squabbling, and now we were speechless. I have no idea what was going through anyone else’s head, but I was numb. It happened so fast. It was hard to believe. There was smoke pouring out the door, and flames licking at windows. And out of the dumb numbness I had a moment of panic
for the poor trapped roaches and rats.
“We’re back in the food business,” I said to Lula. “It was meant to be. It’s an act of God.” It didn’t seem right to pin this fiasco on God, but I guess at the end of the day, he was the bottom-line guy. Or girl. Or gender-neutral entity.
