A street fair was happening in Chelsea and the Bake & Bagel had a front row seat. Micah and Geno got up at three in the morning to make extra batches of bacon dough and the upstairs crew was double-staffed. Jav came in to work behind the counter with Stav.
“I finished that book about Genghis Khan,” Geno said to Jav during a rare lull.
“How was it?”
“I liked it. You know anything about him?”
“Only what I learned in school. Emperor of half the world. Badass motherfucker.”
“When he was about fifteen, his father died, and the tribe kicked him out. Him and his mother and brothers and sisters. They wandered around in exile, starving. Then he was captured by his father’s friends and they made him a slave.”
“Wow.”
Geno nodded. “I was surprised to learn how much of his youth he spent being hungry and a captive. Anyway, he finally escaped, and the escape earned him a reputation. Men began to join with him. They became his generals. That’s how it started.”
“With escape,” Jav said.
“Yeah.”
“And being known as something other than a slave.”
They were quiet a little while, then Geno asked, “Do you believe everything happens for a reason?”
“I do,” Jav said. “But not everyone gets the privilege of liking the reason. Of feeling the reason was worth the ordeal or the experience.”
“Never thought of it that way.”
Jav looked at Geno a long moment. “You’re going to be a huge voice in the world.”
“You think?”
Jav nodded. “I think your story has a lot of power. It can be the kind of thing that builds an empire.”
Micah came upstairs from the dough room. “Komo etash, habibis. What can I do?”
“You kill the average guy,” Jav said.
You have no idea, Geno thought.
Conversation turned to one of Jav’s favorite subjects, names and the stories behind them. He was born Javier Gil deSoto but changed it to Javier Landes after 9/11.
“Because the voices told you to?” Geno said.
“No,” Jav said, laughing. “Because I— Shh. Wait.” He glanced up to the ceiling. “Did you hear that?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Geno said.
“I was born Michalis,” Micah said. “Day I landed at JFK, an immigration officer pronounced it Micah. I liked the way it sounded. Liked the idea of having a new name. It’s a reset button.”
“New name, new you,” Jav said.
“It’s actually a practice in Kabbalah. Jewish mysticism. Changing your name after a serious illness or injury.”
“No kidding?”
“I’ve heard that,” Geno said. “You change your name to confuse the Evil Eye, make it hard to find you.”
“Geronimo,” Micah said. “Now that’s a name.”
“Funny, you know what occurred to me the other day?” Jav said. “Geronimo is both a battle cry and a cry for help.”
Geno blinked as his mind looked over this revelation from all sides.
“Your boyfriend’s back,” Micah said, punching Jav’s arm.
“I must be in trouble.” Jav headed out and Geno finished wrapping up one more sandwich before he went out front as well. The bakery was full of talk and laughter and eating. Beyond that, outside, the fair was in full swing. A brilliant spring day, filled with sound and smell and joy.
Jav and Stef were huddled up on one side of a booth. Heads together, talking behind their hands and sneaking glances toward the far end of the counter. Geno followed the covert looks and saw Stav, standing with her arms extended over the bakery case, her hands caught up by a tall, sandy-blond man on the other side.
Geno slid onto the opposite bench and asked, “Who’s that?”
“My nephew’s father,” Jav said. “Roger Lark.”
“The Treehouse Guy?” Geno said, a little too loudly and Stef swatted him.
“Shh,” he said. “It’s on.”
“It’s on?” Geno said, softer.
“We introduced them last night,” Jav said. “It’s so fucking on.”
Geno faked a yawning stretch and glanced back. Stav and Roger were lost in each other, fingers clasped tight like they could never be torn apart.
“Look at them,” Stef said, his hand wrapping around Jav’s wrist. “Dude, I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before.”
Jav leaned his head against Stef’s as he looked. “I’ve never seen her smile like that.”
Filled with a sudden, pure happiness, Geno got up and went behind the counter. He walked up to Stav and tugged on the strings of her apron.
“Why don’t you take the day off,” he said over her shoulder. He looked at Roger. “Hi, I’m Geno. Stav works for me.”
The Treehouse Guy had grey eyes and an enormous smile beneath a big nose. “I’m Roger,” he said, shaking Geno’s hand. “Are you hiring?”
Blushing and dazed, Stav turned back to look at Geno, who eased the loop of the apron over her head, then put it around his own neck. “Get out of here. I got this.”
Geno stood in the shop doorway with a cup of coffee, watching the fair. Tired to the point where it didn’t matter anymore. Thinking about battle cries and cries for help. Names that hid you from the Evil Eye and voices that could build an empire.
He heard the click of a camera shutter. Turning his head toward it, he saw a girl. As the camera lowered, her face came into view. She was Asian, with a teal-blue streak in her long, black hair. Tight jeans and a flannel shirt. Her golden arms tattooed and a ring in her nose. A smile that began at the corner of her upper lip, then bloomed downward across her chin when she saw Geno staring.
She came closer, turning the camera around to show Geno the display. He leaned and looked at himself, posed in the doorway, strong-looking and contemplative. Ankles crossed under the hem of his long apron. Fit, tattooed arms in a black T-shirt. He looked good.
He looked at peace.
“Hope you don’t mind,” she said. “It was a nice moment. I went for it.”
He minded. He would always mind cameras pointed in his direction. But it was a really good moment. He couldn’t stop looking at it.
“Oh my God,” she said.
Geno looked down at her. “What?”
“It’s you.”
“I’m sorry?”
Her mouth parted in an incredulous laugh, her eyes blinking rapidly. “I don’t believe it.”
“We’ve met?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“It was earlier this year. Back in January. At a bar on the Upper East Side. We both saw a guy slip a roofie into a girl’s drink.”
Now Geno’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God.”
“It’s you.”
He touched his forehead, the night coming back to him. “Holy shit, I remember you.”
“What’s your name?” she said.
An impulse of the heart raced his brain to the finish line of his mouth. “Gen,” he said. With a hard G.
“Gen?” she said. “Is that short for something?”
“Genghis.”
One of her perfect eyebrows raised. “For real?”
Geno nodded.
She crossed her arms. “Your name is actually Genghis.”
Geno laughed at his feet. “No.”
She laughed too, easily, as if this were an inside joke they had for years.
“My name is actually Geronimo.”
Her hand touched his bicep. “Okay, now you’re messing with me.”
He took out his wallet, drew out his driver’s license and handed it to her.
She looked at it, then back at him. “I stand corrected. So Gen is short for Geronimo?”
“I was Geno for a long time. But I’ve been recently reinventing myself as Gen.”
“How recently?”
“About thirty seconds ago.” His chuckles were spilling out without control. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been up since three. I’m a little punchy.”
The hand not holding his license extended toward him. “I’m Tai. It’s not short for anything and it’s the name I was born with.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Again.”
They shook. Both the grip and their eyes holding on.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Tai said. “I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve thought about you a lot all these months.”
He wished he could say the same.
She handed the license back, with one last glance. “Caan,” she said. “Genghis Caan. I get it.”
“What do you think, too obvious?” He put the wallet back in his pocket.
“No, I like it. Genghis and Geronimo. Both warriors.”
And one is a cry for help, Geno thought.
“Are you working all day?” Tai asked.
“No, change of shift should be coming soon and then I can leave.”
“Hm. Well, if you happen to see me loitering around this block, casually taking pictures, it’s pure coincidence.”
The moment peeked around from behind Geno’s back, pulling at his shirt tails.
“Okay,” he said. “And if I happen to be carrying two sandwiches, it doesn’t mean anything.”
Tai’s smile spread from top to bottom. “It’ll be nice randomly bumping into you later.”
Geno watched her walk away. A hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed, then moved to the back of his neck. Micah kissed his head. Keeping Geno tucked under his arm, they watched the fair go by.