The Kid -- Charlie Samuels -- was poor. Or more accurately his
parents
were. This meant Charlie had to eat a poor child's breakfast:
cereal
and
orange juice
. He ate this every morning without variation. By the time he was awake his parents would already be at the
motel
. It was up to him to make sure he got something good to eat, they'd tell him. Eat healthy they would remind him.
In the fridge he tried to find what was healthy. Oranges were fruit. That was healthy. The cereal was whole wheat. That ought to be healthy enough. He thought it'd be healthier to heat up a pan and fry some
eggs
, but he was too scared to use the stove.
For lunch during the school year, he'd eat whatever the school cafeteria served. During the summer he'd fix himself a cold cut meat and cheese sandwich. To make it taste better he'd spread in liberal globs of
mustard
and
mayonaise
. Always spread onto the cheese. The condiments tasted better when smeared between cheese and bread.
He'd get sick of the taste. And he'd fight his mom about wanting white bread rather than wheat. He'd also get sick of the nagging, hearing from his mom when she found out that the box of greens in the fridge was still damn near full. He'd wonder what his rich friend Jay Jorges was eating for lunch. Charlie would imagine Jorges eating lobster and steak.
This afternoon Charlie made sure to stuff his sandwich with a lot of greens. His mom had gotten baby
spinach
this week. Last week it was romaine lettuce. The man who was teaching him to dance had emphasized how important it was for him to eat healthy. It would help him learn to dance all that better.
"Behind every good dancer is a healthy lifestyle. And a healthy lifestyle requires a healthy diet. Can you eat healthy more me, Sammy?"
"Yes."
"Well don't eat healthy for me. Eat healthy for yourself. You want to learn how to dance well right?"