Free Kitchens of the Great Midwest by J. Ryan Stradal Page A

at her mom’s work, she leaned back in her chair, listened to the astonishing sounds of justice, and no longer pretended to look sorry.

SWEET PEPPER JELLY

    Braque Dragelski’s Schedule for June 2:
    5:30 A . M .—Off my ass and out of bed; hot lemon water (~0 calories), morning ablutions
    5:50 A . M .—Breakfast (almond butter, avo & banana sandwich, egg whites; ~800 calories)
    6:20 A . M .—Shower (water temperature ~110ºF)
    6:30 A . M .—Study for 210-2 U.S. History final
    8:10 A . M .—Meet Patricia at SPAC; 20 min. of cardio, 70 min. of core & weights
    9:40 A . M . —Shower (water temperature ~80ºF)
    9:50 A . M . —Leave SPAC; drink protein shake (~200 calories)
    10:00 A . M . —Lunch at Whole Foods hot bar (~600 calories)
    10:30 A . M . —310-1 Micro 1 discussion group
    11:50 A . M . —Leave Micro 1 discussion group
    12:00 P . M . —U.S. History discussion group
    12:50 P.M. —Leave U.S. History discussion group
    1:00 P.M. —Second lunch (grilled chicken, brown rice, steamed veggies; ~550 calories)
    1:30 P.M. —Study for 203-0 French oral final presentation
    3:00 P.M. —French oral workshop
    3:50 P . M . —Leave French oral workshop
    4:00 P . M . —Change; short jog around lakefill
    4:40 P . M . —Small dinner (mixed greens, quinoa, protein shake; ~350 calories)
    5:00 P . M . —Study for 215-0 Economy & Society final
    7:00 P . M . —Snack (apple, raw carrot, kombucha; ~200 calories)
    7:15 P . M . —Study for Micro 1 final
    9:15 P.M. —Final snack (⅓ cup avocado on six whole wheat crackers; ~200 calories)
    9:30 P.M. —Return outstanding e-mails, texts, phone calls; write schedule for tomorrow
    10:30 P.M. —Lights out, no exceptions.
    8:03 A . M .
    People in Evanston moved so goddamn slow. It was one thing when the sidewalks were covered in ice and lake-effect snow. But this was June, the day after Braque’s cousin Eva’s birthday, which used to mean a big family party marking the beginning of summer, at least before her dad left and her brother Randy went into rehab. Back then, when they were all together, Braque’s mom used to say that Iowans knew how to appreciate the two most precious things in life—family and warm weather.
    Given that summer in Iowa was often fleeting, her mom was making one hell of a poignant juxtaposition, especially considering what had happened, and what that batshit crazy woman had done, and still did, to everybody. Still, once in a great damn while Braque did hear those words as her mother intended, and in particular they came to mind today, in this dismally temperate Chicago suburb, as the lumpy assholes on Clark Street refused to move aside for a runner who was out taking full advantage of the first beautiful day of the year.
    The slow, sad-faced suburban ass-clowns weren’t even the worst part about the morning so far. Across the street, on the corner of Clark and Orrington Avenue, the greasy egg-fart odor of the Burger King made Braque cover her face. It always smelled like ass, but today it was sooverpowering she wanted to puke. Worse, the damn smell was also somehow alluring; she had to beat back memories of visiting her aunt Fiona and uncle Jarl and getting bags of delicious, slimy fast food for lunch. Shit, she used to love that BK Big Fish sandwich. Thirty-two grams of fat and 1,370 milligrams of sodium—91 percent of your recommended daily intake. Awful, feeding that to a kid. At least now, in the year 2000, those places also had supposedly healthy menu options, but still. That smell.
    She could detect fish in the greasy breeze, she swore. Ha, what if she had one, just one time? Or half of one. But fuck that! Fuck that in the face! Bad fat, empty calories, and they put HFCS in everything, even the bun. She’d kill her gut and as a bonus have a goddamn sugar crash. No thanks, Hank. Jogging onto the campus, she washed out her olfactory system with the smells of wet sidewalk, the freshly mown grass of Deering Meadow, and the explosive lavender of the