©2021
The diner counter ran in an elongated u-shape from the open kitchen window parallel to the entrance door.
She sat there idly twirling the spoon in the chipped enamel coffee mug.
To her right the front of the old place was framed with a series of paned windows that ran from the tabletop all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. Behind her, beyond a trellised screen, was a series of tables and chairs. That section could accommodate 24 by code – but on a busy Friday night in a cold December, that section would be overrun with the various locals and their friends, and sometimes their families.
Every few seconds or so the spoon clicked against the sides of the mug.
‘Mabes! Shut the fuck up, okay?’, came an impatient growl from just down the counter a ways. ‘You’re annoying the shit outta me. Can’t focus to read the fucking paper.’
Her eyes drifted up from the scarred laminate countertop, dipped into a kind of focus as she swivelled to look to the right.
‘Josie, you cain’t fucking read anyways – who you kidding?’
‘Just stop the infernal spoon rattling – okay?’ he replied.
Her gaze moved back to the middle distance resting on the wall opposite. It was a series of barn wood planks nailed horizontally, on which were a series of mis-matched coathooks.
Her shoulders sagged a little as she raised the now cooled down coffee to her lips.
As she did so a sudden movement on the walkway leading up to the entrance portico caught her attention.
She kinda did a second take for she wasn’t exactly seeing what she thought she was seeing. A man was approaching, dressed in 3 piece suit, a trilby hat pulled low over his eyes. His purposeful stride was, well – purposeful. The rich brown attaché case swung back and forth as he neared the entrance.
The overall architecture of the place was an oddSods kinda structure. Way back – way back about twenty years ago it had been the only service station within thirty miles of here.
Jed, who now owned the place and operated it with his wife Gracie and their teenage twins, had put a fair degree of effort but not a lot of money into what was the only restaurant diner in the area.
Inventiveness, ingenuity and an ability to re-purpose old barn wood, sections of window glass and old doors had been somewhat woven into the interior envelope. It was a litt]e wonky but a lot happy crazy in the general look and feel.
In an attempt to counteract the fierce winter winds that blasted across the adjacent open fields Jed had constructed smallish entry porch. It was just big enough such that when a group of four or five descended upon the place, they could all crowd into the unheated porch area allowing the first door to close behind them before they opened the actual interior door. Everyone in the town agreed that Jed had put some good thinking into providing this little welcoming handshake to his customers. Mabes always thought of it as an airlock between the vast emptiness of the surrounding area and the comfort of this old place.
As the man drew nearer Mabes perked up a little for certainly this guy was very much out of character and context in this remote little part of Kansas.
‘I mean’, she muttered to herself. Only old Doc the local funeral home director even owned a three piece suit, let alone wore one.
She heard the first door open, but as the inside door had no window, she knew only that he was suddenly in that buffer zone.
She waited expectantly for the inner door to open. She now, very much wanted to verify that her vision and/or her brain, had not undergone a massive fail in seeing what she believed she had seen.
But the moments drew outwards. The inside door did not open.
She sat more erect, shaking her head a bit.
‘Did you see that guy?’ She asked aloud.
‘What guy? There ain’t no guy.’ Josie replied, snapping his newspaper.
‘Jed – Jed. What the fuck man? Guy just came into the porch, hasn’t left. He’s still out there. Whaddaya think he’s up to?’
Jed paused in his scraping of the big flat grill plate, turned towards her, and then looked towards the door.
‘Dunno – maybe he’s talkin’ on his phone for a minute. What’s the big deal?’
‘Well – it’s just weird’, she replied. ‘A businessman type guy in a three piece suit – where the hell you think he came from. Weird.’
Josie, peering up over his paper, eyed her suspiciously.
‘C’mon Mabes. Old Hubie been beatin’ on ya again last night? Plying you with that homemade moonshine shit? That’s why yer in here looking’ hungover and bent sideways?’
‘Fuck you Josie – leave old Hubie outta this. None yer business anyways. I’m gonna go check this shit out.’
She placed her hands on the counter to push herself back off the stool.
The door suddenly opened and standing there was a total surprise to her mussed up brain.
A man in one of those old, wrinkled, weather-worn Australian greatcoats, a backpack hanging from his left hand. On his head was a way outta place Montréal Expos baseball cap.
She sat down, mouth agape. She turned towards Jed, wanting to say something but there was no words.
Josie looked over to the door his eyes creased as he squinted at what he was seeing.
Nobody spoke for a moment as the stranger surveyed the room.
‘G’day mates’, he said finally in a clear Australian accent. ‘How y’all doin’ this fine winter’s morn?’
“Ahhhhh . . . . ahhhh’, Mabes started. And as she attempted to say something – anything at all, she was also leaning to her left, trying to see behind the stranger.
The stranger’s smile widened almost impossibly big, showing a mouthful of what seemed to be larger than normal, very white teeth.
‘K’, he said. ‘Guess cat’s got yer tongue. No worries. But I’m sure looking for some nice hot breakfast.’
Looking towards Jed he swung his backpack up in a general arc and asked, ‘Anywheres you want me to set?’
Jed also was mouth agape as this completely out of the norm apparition berated at him.
‘ Uhhh – no – seat yourself. Anywheres you like.’
The stranger swept the room with his gaze, stopped at Mabes, and said, ‘Ma’am – mind if I set myself down besides you there?’
Mabes was looking like a fresh caught bass on the bottom of a rowboat, gasping for breath.
‘Uh – no. It’s fine – all good. Whatever you’d like.’
As he moved to the end of the u-shaped counter Mabes pushed herself back upright, standing in the aisle space.
‘Gotta git to the Ladies’, she mumbled.
She moved down the aisle space and passed him close by.
Graciously the stranger drew himself inwards allowing her space to move past him.
Rounding the end of the counter she made a bee-line past the doorway towards the open kitchen area, and then pushed open the door marked ‘Ladies/Gents’.
The stranger moved down towards where Mabes had been sitting and in doing so passed Josie. He stopped, stuck out his hand and loudly proclaimed, ‘Hey here. Name’s Rufus. Nice to meetya.’
Josie stammered, ‘Ahh – sure, yeah. Nice to meatya too’, as he allowed his hand to be swallowed up in huge grip of this stranger.
‘So my man’, Jed started. ‘Set yourself there – just give yerself some space between you and Mabes. She hates to feel crowded. Menu’s right there. Give it a look – lemme know what you’d like.’
Rufus dropped his backpack with a heavy ‘clump’.
Josie would have sworn later he heard metal striking against the old flooring when it landed.
Rufus straddled the old red vinyl chrome-banded stool and got himself comfortable.
‘Let’s just see what we got here’, he said, mostly to himself.
He gripped the old time-worn plastic laminated menus sheet and started to read it.
Josie went back to his newspaper with a drawn-out sigh.
Rufus, eyes narrowing, glanced over towards him just as the washroom door opened and Mabes walked out.
She paused mid-step as she noticed the scene in front of her, kinda frozen in time.
But suddenly she turned to her left saying over her shoulder, ‘Hey Jed … .gotta git sumpin’ outta the truck.’
Jed grunted, Rufus smiled broadly at her.
She huddled into herself as she exited out into the biting morning prairie winds, her neck scrunched down into herself. As she got to the gravel edge of the parking area, she looked for her truck and both Josie’s old car and Jed’s station wagon.
And of course, the stranger’s vehicle.
But there were only three there.
She stopped, cold, at the front of her truck.
Beyond puzzled, she slowly revolved in a full circle, thinking she might see something that quite simply, was simply, not there.
Completely puzzled now, she moved, with no urgency, slowly, to the driver’s door, opened it, pulled herself up onto the seat, and – just sat there.
‘This is making no sense!, she thought.
‘Where did he come from?’, she questioned. ‘How did he get here?’
She sat for a spell, pondering. It was beginning to feel like a dream sequence.
‘Might be he had hitch-hiked and someone dropped him off! Yes!’, she concluded, ‘Gotta be how it happened.’
Reaching that conclusion, the norms of an unsophisticated mind clicked back into place, and she turned, opened the cab door and dropped to the ground.
© 2022 michael moore