We Hate Dried Apple Slices

 Carlos fed the dollar into the vending machine and weighed his options. He could never pass up an opportunity to get something from the boxes of joy. It had been ingrained in him since he was a kid and would tag along with his mother on business trips. He would pack a bag full of toys, handheld games, and a book or two. The books were a lie, of course. He enjoyed reading, but day trips were full of unregulated play time so he could goof off all he wanted without his mom worrying that he was rotting his brain. If Carlos was good and behaved on the trips, they would get a treat from the first and last rest stop they passed and the treat was always almost the same. The first was always the most relatively healthy thing the machine had, usually some form of granola bar or trail mix, but the second and last machine was all his choice. A small bag of cookies, a candy bar, cheesy chips, anything he could desire. He especially loved the small bags of tiny chocolate chip cookies.

Now, as an adult, he always pretended that the healthy option was actually a contender for what he'd get. Maybe he would get the trail mix with dried blueberries! Sure, that could be something he would really get. He always pretended because of his mom. He always had the suspicion that she knew. Like she would be sitting in her chair at home and she would know in her soul that he could have had the unsalted almonds.

This time he was pretending to decide between the low fat pretzels and his usual small pack of powdered donuts. See mom? His fingers are hovering around the A button, which is the row that has the low calorie snack. But no, he deserves the donuts. If he was being honest with himself, he really did deserve the donuts. He passed his favorite fried chicken chain today and didn't buy a sandwich, which was basically a workout if you thought about it. A workout of self control.

Carlos wasn't out of shape. He had a shape and he was okay with it. He didn't see the point in denying himself what he wanted to eat just so he could slip into slimmer pants. Slim-fit jeans were for the spinach protein shake people. He wasn't at an ideal weight, but he was close enough that his doctor left him alone, which was a bonus.

He hit the button combination for powdered donuts. He could have done it with his eyes closed. This was the vending machine he would always hit as he walked home from work. Always well stocked because it was housed in the middle of the street placed between a smoke shop and a fresh squeezed juice shop. The doughnuts were in E4. E4 brings euphoria. It was a little rhyme he came up with that made him smile as he pressed the buttons. But there was no smile this time. Instead of a processed pleasure made up of baked benediction covered in confectionery cocaine, he watched as the dried apple slices plunked into the chute.

“Man, that's harsh.” A smoky female voice said from behind him.

Carlos was bending over to get his sad fruit slices when she spoke and he jumped, almost trapping his hand in the machine's flap.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” The voice asked as he swallowed his heart back into his chest. “I didn't mean to. You were just studying the machine so much I was curious and came over to see what was what.”

He stood, tugging at his clothes, making sure nothing was riding too high or clinging too tight. It was a habit he had picked up when he was younger and bit bigger. He looked up at the speaker and couldn't help but notice that she was striking. Not the impossible beautiful you see in fashion magazines full of models who would never be caught dead in front of a vending machine. She was striking like a real person was. She was only slightly smaller than him in each measurable dimension. She stood with the confidence of someone who could be asked to be the back half of a horse costume for Halloween and not even give it a second thought.

The woman bent over and pulled Carlos's dried apple slices from the machine and frowned at them. She opened the package, sniffed it, and frowned again. She pulled a slice out and nibbled on the edge and this time she grimaced. Her dark skin glistened in the fading sunlight.

“Yeah, this is awful.” She crumpled the pack and tossed it in the nearby garbage. “I don't even think they'd give those to prisoners. They might have a revolt. The Appleslice Redemption starring Tim Ribston and Morgan Fujiman.” She gave a chuckle. “Apple puns. I'm sorry.” She pulled a dollar out of her pocket and fed it to the machine. She hit E4 again and they both watched as the apple slices fell one more time. The woman sighed and didn't bother retrieving the packet. “That's a crime.” She turned to face Carlos. “Let's go. There's another machine at the bus station two blocks over.”

Carlos watched as the woman started to walk away and he found his voice for the first time since she appeared. “Who are you?

The woman stopped, her shoulder length black hair spun as she turned to face him. “I'm Meera. Meera Shah. I own that juice bar.” She pointed at the sign that read “Meera's Magic Potions.” “I see you come by every day and now I've become quite invested in you getting some powdered doughnuts, thought you always stare as if you're going to get something else. You know no one ever gets the unsalted almonds, right?” She barked a laugh. “Let's go.” She motioned with her head and started off again and this time Carlos followed. Since they were almost the same height and build their gaits were very similar so he had to jog a bit to catch up.

“I don't mean to be rude, and I'm sure sorry that you wasted a buck trying to get me those doughnuts, but I'm just so confused.”

“Why am I so interested in getting you your snack?”

“Yes, and-”

“And why am I, the owner of a juice bar, helping you find processed junk food?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I have my reasons and maybe one day I'll tell you, but for now, we're here.” She said as she came to a stop in front of a row of vending machines.

They were in the East side's metro station, where one could find a bus that could take you anywhere in the city. Carlos used to take the bus to and from work but he realized it was only an eleven block walk and if he walks eleven blocks, he just may earn his treat.

Meera was shaking her head. “No doughnuts.” She stood back and regarded the machine. “You're an embarrassment to your kind!” She huffed and spun around to face him. “Okay, this one is a bust. But there has to be more around here.” She squinted and looked around.

Carlos studied her. The whole situation was so weird. A stranger being invested in what he got from a vending machine. That, and a two block walk wasn't a big deal, but when you were just doing it to help a stranger get a snack, it seemed a bit extra. Meera noticed him staring and smiled.

“I assure you, I'm not pulling your chain. This isn't some elaborate scheme to rob you or harvest your organs.” She cackled.

Carlos swallowed hard. That hadn't even occurred to him. It was a clear sign of his male privilege that he didn't even hesitate to walk off with this stranger.

“So if I'm going to be helping you find your doughnuts, I should probably know your name.” She squared up in front of him and extended her hand. “So let me reintroduce myself. I'm Meera, I live in the city and I own a juice bar that just happens to be on your way home from work.”

Carlos reached out and took her hand. It was slightly rough. The kind you'd expect from someone who gets their hands wet a lot. Carlos's mother was a florist and he could vividly remember her coming home during the holidays with hands like sandpaper.

“I'm Carlos. I work a few blocks away at Mid Village Computers. I live in the city too, in fact I live just down Prospect and walk to work each day.” He looked down at his feet. “It's how I earn my snack.”

Meera crossed her arms. “And you never thought to stop in for a nice green juice? In over a year, not even once?”

“Well... I...” Carlos stammered.

“I'm kidding.” She slapped him on the shoulder. “You're not my target clientele anyway.” He held up a hand and started counting on her fingers. “We mainly get hippies, hipsters, gym rats, influences, and soccer moms on a juice cleanse. But just because you're not them doesn't mean you should never stop in.” She gave him a sly smile.

Carlos's cheeks went hot. “Well, thank you for your help, but this may be a lost cause. I appreciate the effort though.”

“What are you talking about? We only checked one other machine. Do you know how many machines there are in this city?”

“Um, actually, I have no clue.” He admitted. He also wondered if anyone in the city knew that.

“Well me neither, but we can't stop now. I know of at least five more!” She pumped her fist into the air.

She gave Carlos the feeling that in her youth she was a regular at comic or anime conventions. It wasn't a bad thing. He could just envision her in costume and in character roaming the halls of the Serenity Expo Arena downtown pausing to take pictures with every guy with a camera because pretty women in costume always get bothered. Meera wasn't going to be the type to give up without a fight, and if he was being honest, Carlos's only plans for the night involved TV, dinner, and then a book. So he had plenty of time. Might as well play along.

“Harmony Memorial Hospital as two vending machines outside of the ER and two on the second floor pediatric wing.” He sent a mental thanks to his twin sister having her baby in that hospital. Who knew that knowledge would come in handy.

Meera snapped her fingers. “You're right! I remember the ER ones from when I sliced the tip of my finger off!” She looked up at him and snapped again. “As you can see they reattached it.” She winked. “Let's go!”

And the two were off at a brisk pace towards the hospital which, as Carlos noted, was going away from his house. But he wasn't about to complain. She was taking him on a mini adventure across the city. He wasn't going to hold his breath that this was some meet cute for his own personal love story. But maybe he found a new friend. At the very least he finally had a new story to tell.

Meera talked as the two of them made their way downtown. Or at least towards downtown but Carlos thought that the Vanessa Carlton song wouldn't sound so good if she was making her way “towards” downtown.

Carlos learned all about her on their way to the hospital. She was born in the city to immigrant parents who moved here to follow a job. They had been perfectly happy in Western India but when her mother's employer was bought out by a Silicon Valley corporation, she found that she could make more money if she transferred to California. Her father had no problems with it since he was a teacher, and world history was the same everywhere, except for maybe the American South, so he could get a job teaching. Five years later Meera was born and fast forward thirty years and life finds her taking a stranger on a doughnut hunt.

“I did go to college to study nutrition.” She said as they rounded the block towards their destination. “Can I tell you a secret that you can't tell anybody?” She smiled at him. “My big takeaway from school is that there are no bad foods. Like your doughnuts. The dose makes the poison so a pack is fine. So don't tell anyone or my shop will be ruined!”

Carlos laughed. “My lips are sealed.”

“Good.” Meera nooded. “My business is safe for another day.”

The two doughnut hunters approached the ER entrance and saw their target. A pair of machines stood watch outside, offering snacks and comfort to any who needed a break. Meera trotted up to it and a moment later he shoulders slumped. Carlos knew they were out of luck. But at this point he didn't mind. He was having fun and finding the treats meant the night was over. As soon as he stopped next to her, Meera was off again heading into the hospital and to the elevator to check the machine there. Once again the pair came up short.

As the night went on Carlos found himself wandering around the city using a mix of walking, electric scooters, and one abandoned shopping cart, which he had to push. By the time the night wound down they had found over fifteen vending machines and none of them had any powdered doughnuts.

At one point the pair found themselves sneaking onto the campus of the local high school. They had been walking by when Meera stopped and pointed. A few vending machines could be seen though the gate. They walked around the outside until they found an opening. It wasn't anything sneaky. No movie level heist. Just a gate that had been left open. Those vending machines came up empty too but on their way out they were getting pretty relaxed, giggling and chatting, when a security guard rounded the corner. He shined a light in their faces and asked what they were doing. Meera had been leading the way for most of the night but Carlos found the inspiration to take the lead.

“I'm sorry officer. My girlfriend and I are alumni and we're visiting my mom in the city and we thought we'd take a night time stroll of where we met.” He smiled back at her. “We haven't been back since we graduated, what fifteen years ago now?” He asked.

“I was a year ahead of you, remember? Sixteen for me.” Meera chimed in as she got closer to Carlos and bumped him playfully with her shoulder.

The guard had squinted at them for so long that they thought they were going to get in trouble but he eventually led them out, scolding them the whole way about how lucky they were that he didn't feel like dealing with the cops and all the paperwork.

When the gate was closed and locked behind them Meera took off and Carlos had to run to keep up. When they rounded the next block, she leaned against a wall and burst out in laughter.

“That was quick thinking.” She said. “I don't know why we thought sneaking in there was a good idea.” She wiped her eyes and stood up.

“To be fair.” Carlos said with a smile. “I don't think either of us thought it was a good idea. It was just where the night took us.”

Meera reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“So where does the night take us next?”

Their escapade ended after a few more machines. They found some e-scooters and made their way back to Meera's shop. The city was cast in an orange yellow glow from the florescent lights and it gave the nighttime a noir vibe, as if a trench coat wearing detective was going to step into the streetlight at any moment. The two walked up to the vending machine that started it all.

“You know,” Carlos said. “I may not have got any doughnuts out of this, but I had fun and in the end, that's worth more.” He offered a smile.

Meera laughed. “What is this, an after school special?” She pulled a set of keys out of her pocket and Carlos thought she was going to go into her shop and say goodnight, but instead she walked up to the vending machine, unlocked it, and reached in to grab the doughnuts.

Carlos stared slack-jawed at her as she placed the package in his hand. She smiled.

“Yeah, that's my vending machine. Turns out that if all you have for lunch is some kale juice, you're left wanting more. So I put this here to make some extra money. But don't tell anyone.”

“But...but.” Carlos stammered. “Why did we go do all that if you...” His brain, which normally worked pretty well, turned into a Rubrix cube.

Meera crossed her arms and regarded him. “I wanted to see how far you'd go along with it.” She chuckled. “And I must say you went farther than I had thought you would. Those last five machines were all you.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek and he felt a wave of goosebumps ripple out and down his body. “What do you say? Same time tomorrow?”