USB (A MINI MEGABYTE SERIES)

(1,578 Words)

Miles Mayvik was at his favorite sandwich spot at his usual area by the window. He came every Monday after his 45 minute session at the gym.

His pallet was feeling adventurous and he wanted to try the new three-mustard pastrami melt.

It was delicious. Miles found that the saltiness of the red meat went perfect with the sweet and spiciness of the mustard. It instantly became his favorite sandwich.

As Miles popped the last piece of the sandwich into his mouth, along with a pickle an older gentleman approached him.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but did you order the pastrami?” The man watched Miles expectantly as he chewed.

Before answering Miles quickly wiped the edges of his mouth and his fingers, “Yes sir, I did.”

“How’s it taste?”

“In my opinion it’s easily their best sandwich. It was delicious.”

The gentleman placed his hands in his pocket and searched the menu board with his eyes, “You’ve had every sandwich here?”

Miles nodded his head confidently, “Yes sir I have. I’m a big fan of sandwiches. I’ve actually been coming here every monday for the past eight months. Even the servers say my name might as well be written on this table.”

Miles lightly tapped the surface of the table with his knuckles.

The old man lingered in silence, peering down at Miles as if expecting him to say more, so he elaborated. “Sometimes my friends even call me Cheese,” Miles admitted with an embarrassed chuckle.

The old man nodded and thanked Miles before suddenly exiting the deli.

Miles eyed the man curiously, wondering why he hadn’t bought anything. Miles attempted to justify the man’s actions; maybe he was just a lonely man looking to talk to anyone about anything.

Nothing weird there, he thought, since his father was the same way. He’d often strike up random conversations with all kinds of strangers. Miles recalled one specific conversation his father had with an ex convict about toasters, the meaning behind skulls, and the teardrop tattoo.

A week later when Miles returned to the deli he found that his seat was filled. The person occupying the spot was wearing a hat and reading a newspaper.

Being a patient guy Miles didn’t mind too much so he settled to take his food to go as he stood in line.

As he waited for his sandwich to be made, Miles ventured to the soda machine and filled half of his medium cup with lemonade and the other half with sweet tea.

After three minutes his order was ready; as he exited the deli he took one last glance at his usual spot to see if it was vacant. But it wasn’t.

The person occupying the seat set his newspaper down and waved down Miles, it was the old gentleman from the week before.

“Miles! Happy Monday!” His bright face matched his cheery tone.

Miles tried recalling when he introduced himself to the man but couldn’t recall ever giving his name. “Hi,” Miles waved at the man and felt obligated to approach him.

“What was your name again?” Miles asked, rubbing his chin, “You remember mine but I don’t remember telling you...”

The old man began to fold his newspaper carefully as he interrupted, “Sure you did. You said your real name’s Miles but your friends call you Cheese, right?”

Miles nodded his head slowly. ‘Did I tell him that?’ He thought to himself.

“There’s room for one more if you’d like. I just finished my paper anyway.”

Being the nice guy he was Miles obliged. They had a brief conversation about travel and European cuisine-sandwiches specifically-before Miles excused himself.

The following week Miles returned. He was hoping his spot would be empty like usual and he didn’t want to be bothered with company.

Thankfully it was raining and business was slow.

As Miles took up his seat he noticed a dark green flash drive on the table. There was scotch tape on the flash drive with his name written in blue marker, only it was spelled Myles.

Miles tilted his head in confusion before scanning the room with his eyes. He wondered if anyone was looking at him weird or watching him but nobody was. The only people in the shop besides two workers was a girl wearing white earphones. But she looked to be about in high school and her eyes were glued to her phone. She’s probably just thumbing through social media Miles assured himself.

Miles’ suspicions immediately fell on the old man. He had to be the one responsible. As if to confirm his suspicion Miles spotted the old man passing by the shop. He only saw a glimpse but he was sure it was him.

Quickly, Miles shot from his seat and pursued the man, ignoring the rain and the voice of the sandwich maker, alerting him his order was ready.

By the time Miles made it outside and reached the street corner he was soaked and saw no one. The streets were completely bare, save Homeless Hal at the bus stop.

Miles didn’t want to disturb him, as he was muttering a tune to himself but he did anyway, “Hey, Hal.”

Miles had to call him twice before he turned around. Though his scraggly hair was matted to his forehead and he was shivering in the cold Hal met his gaze with a near toothless smile, “Miles. Nice weather today, in’it?”

His palms were almost as black as the gravel.

Miles gave a tight lipped smile and offered Hal, “There’s a hot pastrami melt with your name on it if you can tell me something.”

Hal paused and rocked himself before asking, “What is it?”

“Did you see an older man pass by? He’s about six feet, wearing a dark hat. He might’ve had a blue or black umbrella.”

Hal hummed to himself and shook his head, “Uh-uh. Only the people in my mind. That’s all I seen. Only they’re not people. Everybody’s scared to come out to play in the rain but them.”

“Right.” Miles agreed, “Hey, I’ll have your pastrami pronto, alright?”

Hal put up a finger and called after Miles, “Make it a cheesesteak or a reuben with extra cheese! Pastrami isn’t my only enemy. But aren’t you curious?”

Miles turned around and gave him a thumbs up. Hal may have been a bit off and said lots of strange things, but he always knew what he wanted to eat. Miles appreciated that.

For the next two weeks Miles decided to skip the shop and head straight home from the gym instead.

The flash drive sat on his desk right next to his laptop. Sure, he wanted to know what was on it but he didn’t want to download any viruses. He only had the laptop for three months and it was a gift from his parents.

Miles sat at his desk, chewing on a homemade sandwich and salt and vinegar chips when Homeless Hal’s words echoes in his ears, ‘But aren’t you curious?’

Granted Homeless Hal wasn’t really talking to him but merely talking out of his heads, Miles’ curiosity was starting to soak through him like the brine in his pickle.

Screw it, Miles thought as he dug up his old computer he nearly forgot he had.

As he booted it up he chewed his thumb nail anxiously. Immediately, he removed his hand from his mouth and spat when he tasted something bitter. He eyed his nail as it glistened from the monitor’s blue light and recalled that it was coated with clear nail polish. Sure, his friends teased him for his unorthodox ways but it helped in battling his habit.

‘Old habits die hard but I’m going to die if there’s some weird dark web stuff on this drive,’ he told himself.

Miles shook the thought away and stuck the flash drive in the USB slot. When it loaded up Miles found that there was a single file on the entire eight gigabyte drive.

The file was titled with two foreign words that vaguely looked familiar to Miles.

Miles took a deep breath and handful of chips before double clicking the document.

He shut his eyes as it loaded and peeked at the screen.

It was a sandwich recipe.

Feeling incredibly relieved yet stupid, Miles slapped himself on the forehead as he read the recipe title aloud, “Croque monsieur. A freaking French sandwich!”

The following Monday Miles returned to the shop when one of the sandwich makers approached him with his order, “Hey Miles some old guy left something for you. A long time ago he asked for your name and said he had something for you. He was really sweet and I felt so sorry for him. I guess his wife passed away a couple months ago and he wanted to share her famous recipe with you or something. I don’t remember exactly.”

Miles nodded his head in silence.

“Hey, are Salt and Vinegar okay? I’ll give you some chips on the house.”

“Thank you.” Although he was receiving free chips Miles felt awful.

Everything that had transpired between him and the widowed old man was completely innocent. He was simply profoundly lonely and all he wanted to do was share his beloved’s pure and delicious ham, cheese, and toast sandwich recipe.