1. Mad Batter🧁

Those with the biggest hearts often feel so empty because they leave pieces of themselves in everything they used to love.

Casey slipped on his bomber jacket, bracing against the bitter wind. It nipped his cheeks and ears after he propped open the back door of his family's bakery. The dumpster lay at the bottom of the alleyway, with a veil of snow covering the top.

Snowflakes alighted on the young baker's face as he hefted a heavy trash bag up over his shoulder and into the bin. With the weather in the low twenties, daytime seemed to wick away quicker than a candle in the cold. Casey longed for warmer days again.

Graffiti covered the brick walls around him, and the miasma from the dumpster made him wrinkle his nose. Trash duties were the worst at nighttime. He swore a shadow slithered across the wall at the end of the alley and hoped it was just a hungry animal searching for food. Casey's imagination ran wild with creatures lurking in the dark, preying upon him for their next feast. He kept his eyes peeled as he closed the dumpster lid, carefully stepping back.

A loud ruckus came from the bottom of the alley, startling Casey. He let out a tiny yelp, staggering back against the building. It sounded like broken glass. A part of him wanted to investigate the source, but logic pulled him back to the bakery's door.

Tugging it open, he waited for just a moment. Almost as if he expected someone, or perhaps something, to emerge from the perpetual darkness. As if a demon would pop out from the shadows and drag him into hell. At least it would be warm there.

However, nothing emerged from the alleyway, and Casey chalked it up to his nerves. With a sigh, he stepped back inside the bakery and locked the door behind him. Just to be safe.

"Chilly out there, isn't it?" His sister, Lani, swept the floor, sparing him a glance. "You hear about old Harold down the road? They ruled his death an accident. Slipped on a patch of ice in his backyard and banged his head on the concrete."

"Jesus, that's horrible. I kinda feel bad for him. I mean, not to speak ill of the dead, but he wasn't very kind to people." Casey rubbed his shivering hands together. "Remember the crap he pulled with us?"

Lani nodded. "Yeah, I can't say I'm torn up about it."

Old Harold was a nasty man who hated children. When Casey and Lani were kids, he threatened to unleash his rabid-looking dog on them for getting too close to his precious property. He never dropped by the bakery anymore, thankfully, but that's only because he lied about finding a dead beetle in his coffee. Lani caught him planting it. Crazy man thought he'd earn himself free coffee for a year by doing so. He received no such thing.

"Took them forever to find his body," Lani said.

"Probably because he doesn't have much family left in town," Casey replied. "Nobody was around to check on him."

"Yeah, and he bitched at anyone who got near his house. Luckily some of his neighbors finally did."

Casey sighed. "It's sad how he went unnoticed for so long. Maybe being lonely made him into such a grouch."

"Maybe." Lani shrugged. "His kids moved away when they got older. No surprise that they didn't keep in touch with how he acted. They're too busy living their own lives."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Harold's kids were lucky to get out of this town. Winters in New Syracuse wore folks down. There was always a new drug overdose on the news or a gang murder somewhere in the rougher neighborhoods.

Nobody wanted to be outside, not unless they had to be. Even the kids didn't care to play in the snow that often. But his two-year-old son, Wyatt, loved sledding out on the hill near their house. Casey planned to take him out again tomorrow when he had the day off.

Sometimes, Casey worried about their family's business at the bakery. When the weather worsened and they lost a little business, he thought he'd need to pick up a second job to pay for him and his son's expenses, but so far, things were looking up. The locals couldn't resist getting their piping hot coffee and sweet treats to munch on.

Their father owned the affectionate little bakery known as Mad Batter. It had been a dream of Mr. Lockhart's to open his own bakery and he accomplished his lifelong aspiration. His initial reason for wanting to own his own business stemmed from the fact that he wanted endless sweets to eat all day.

Casey made his way around the counter. A glass display lined with glazed donuts, baby blue frosted cupcakes, and chocolate chip cookies made his mouth water. Nothing brought him more pleasure than baking those tasty sweets, but the idea of things going to waste when they didn't sell was the worst part. Rather than throw them out before they reached their expiration date, they shared any leftovers amongst family and donated them to the local food pantry. Lord knew how times were tough for the homeless folks living out on the streets.

Xavier, his close friend and coworker, got ready to clean the restrooms while Casey took over Lani's cleaning duties as she helped their dad count the money in the register.

"Got any plans tonight?" Xavier asked as he wheeled a mop and bucket out.

"I'm just going to relax and unwind when I get home," Casey replied. "Probably play with Wyatt a bit before putting him to bed. He always stays up until I get home."

"Sounds fun. Some friends of mine are having a get together down the block tonight. I was just wondering if you'd wanna join us," Xavier offered. "But I understand if you'd rather stay home with your boy."

"Maybe next time?" Casey replied. "I'm beat after today."

Xavier nodded. "Sure thing."

Casey's dad emerged from the back storage, removing his apron. "I can trust you three to close up again, right?"

"Of course," Casey replied.

"Yeah, Mr. Lockhart," Xavier chimed in. "You can count on us."

"Thank you. Good work today, all of you. I'll see you tomorrow, Xavier." Mr. Lockhart then shifted his gaze in his son's direction. "Don't forget to lock up, Casey. You should still have the key. I'll leave the porch light on for you and Lani when you get home."

"Yep, I have it. I'll lock up," Casey told him.

After his father left, Casey soaked in the night's silence, bereft of the daily banter and boisterous customers. It was like the calm after the storm.

"Do you mind if I head outside?" Xavier asked, revealing a joint from his pocket. "I mean, unless you need help here."

"Go ahead," Casey said. "I'm almost finished cleaning tables. We'll be able to leave soon."

Mr. Lockhart wasn't aware of Xavier being a pothead. He never smoked while serving customers and it didn't affect his work ethic, so Casey agreed to keep his habit a secret. Sometimes he joined him when they didn't have many customers. Xavier was one of the very few friends he had, and he didn't want to ruin their friendship by being a snitch. It wasn't like his smoking caused anyone trouble.

"You really gotta quit letting him do that," Lani said, poking her head out from the back room. "What if Dad catches him smoking around here?"

Casey rolled his eyes. "He won't if you don't tell him."

"Yeah? And what if he smells it on you after you've both gotten high?" she asked.

Casey groaned. "He won't find out as long as you keep quiet about it. We always smoke outside, away from the security cameras. It's not like we're smoking all the time, either. Just a blunt now and then. It's the same as smoking cigarettes. Maybe not even as bad."

"Whatever. If you say so." Lani went back to work.

Business had ground to a halt for the night. They didn't have an enormous crowd stampeding in that late, so Casey spent most of his time cleaning up and preparing to close for the night. Casey was polishing down his last table when resonating gunshots reached his ears — a sound he'd learned to recognize easily living in New Syracuse. It hadn't been too far from the bakery either.

"The hell was that?" Xavier emerged from the back room with blood-shot eyes. He stuffed the rest of his joint back in his hoodie pocket so Lani didn't catch him with it.

"It was probably nothing," Lani called out. "Just finish up so we can go home already. I don't wanna have to stay after any later than we need to."

"Someone shot off a gun," Casey replied, gazing outside beyond the glass windowpane. "Sounded like it, right?"

Xavier shrugged. "Maybe some teens are fucking around."

"Yeah, maybe." Casey agreed.

It wasn't like someone would come shoot up the bakery, right? There hadn't been reports of any robberies in their area yet, and Casey didn't want the bakery to be the first on the block. Gangs ran rampant over New Syracuse, but their bakery rarely fell in the cross-hairs of their territory fights.

An unnerving sensation in the pit of his stomach made it difficult for him to relax. What if that gunshot came from their neighborhood? It sounded like it could have. Casey knew how their family locked their doors up at night, but it still had him on edge to consider someone robbing their home and hurting his son. He sent a quick text to his mom, asking how Wyatt was doing. When he got a message back from her promptly, he let out a breath of relief.

Just finished tucking him in. Exhausted from playtime!

Casey couldn't stop gazing outside. No one lurked around on the sidewalk, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that he was being watched. Was it just the night jitters getting into his head? Maybe they should leave now and hurry home. Casey wanted to get back to their house and see his son.

Something urged Casey to hurry around the counter to fetch the keys. He needed to lock up the entrance. As he leaned over to collect the ring, the tinny and grating chime of the doorbell reached his ears. Casey gulped, trying to process what to do and what he could defend himself with if necessary.

Xavier asked, "Can't you see we're closing?"

Casey paused behind the counter of sweets, trembling. The first thing that caught his eye was the laceration inflicted on the dark-haired stranger's arm. Drops of blood dripped onto the pristine, white-tiled floor as Casey shrunk back. Did someone shoot the guy? Stab him? That was a lot of blood soaking through his hoodie sleeve.

"Can you help me? You got a first aid kit, yeah?" The mysterious man asked, coming closer to the counter. Pieces of black hair poked out from the hood pulled over his head, revealing a small cut to the side of his face. It didn't look fresh. "I'm sorry. Your bakery's the only one with lights on. They stole my damn phone."

With cautious steps, Casey moved around the counter to examine the young man better. It was obvious the man worked out from his buff build, and his deep voice sent shivers down Casey's spine. He'd met guys like him before that ran around with the gangs. They could be brutal.

Casey met the man's gaze for a split second, then focused it back on his bloody arm. Considering his injury, Casey expected the guy to be more frantic about bleeding out or having his attacker come back after him. Shouldn't he be wanting them to call the police or an ambulance for a hospital?

"You need us to call 911?" Xavier asked. "That doesn't look good, man."

"No hospitals, no cops. Just help me and I'll leave."

"Um, alright," Casey stammered. "We, uh, have a first aid kit."

Lani peeked out from the back, gripping a mop tightly in her hand. Casey flashed her a brief look, and she backed away from the door, hopefully realizing the man might be dangerous. Surely, she'd call their mother, who worked for the New Syracuse Police Department. Casey hoped the man didn't see his sister back there. By the way he eyed the display of sweets in the case, Casey figured he must not have seen Lani.

Casey stepped behind the register. His hands trembled so badly, he could barely sift through the cluttered mess his dad had left for him. With each passing second, Casey grew more concerned. This guy didn't seem like someone to be trifled with. He hoped Xavier didn't try fighting him while stoned, either.

The man asked, "Could I have a cupcake too? I mean, I'll pay for it."

Casey nodded. "Yeah, uh sure. Just let me finish here."

Cleaning the stranger's bloody arm made Casey wonder what happened, but he couldn't bring himself to ask. A viper tattoo on his forearm stuck out to Casey, but he disregarded it. The only thing on his mind was getting the dangerous man out of their bakery without angering him. While Casey wanted to hide in the back with Lani, he knew he couldn't put her in harm's way and needed to keep the guy calm. Hopefully, his attacker didn't show up.

All Casey could think about was getting home safely to Wyatt. The injured man hadn't been hostile toward them yet or threatened them. And Casey wanted to keep it that way.

"What's your name?" the stranger asked.

"I'm Casey. And that's Xavier." He gestured to his friend. "You?"

"August. Same as the month I was born. My mom wasn't very creative."

Casey forced a grin at his joke. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. Thanks again for this," August said after Casey got him patched up. "I know how suspicious it must look. I just got into some trouble with those gangs. Didn't want the police hounding me over this. Ain't my first fight and they'll be wanting to throw me in the slammer."

"No problem," Casey told him before retrieving the cupcake that the man desired.

After August got his treat, paid for it, and left their bakery, Casey hurried to lock the front door. He wanted no more night travelers wandering in.

Lani peeked out. "Is he gone?"

Casey nodded. "Yeah, he just left. Didn't threaten us or try to take any money. He just wanted help with his wound and a cupcake, oddly. He better get that wound checked out by a doctor. Those bandages won't keep it from getting infected."

"That's so creepy." Lani shuddered. "Jeez, you guys acted so calm about it, too. I was so worried he'd try to hurt y'all. I called mom, and she's coming down here. Wants to make sure we get home safely and the guy doesn't come back."

Xavier sighed. "Guess I can wait a little longer to leave. At least we're officially closed now. No more weirdos like him will stop by."

"I hope not," Casey murmured.

Casey tried to calm his throbbing heart, taking a seat to cool off until his mother got there. All he wanted to do was curl up in his own bed and read Wyatt one of his favorite bedtime stories.