CHAPTER 6
It’s a slow afternoon at the diner. The guests are the usual faces, and I know what they’re going to order even before they greet me. I have nothing against that. Routine may be boring, but it lulls you into a cradle of safety. But, I know what lies beneath all that. The question that Old Bill asked me during our initial interview. What are you running away from?
Just as I bring over a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, with a fresh cup of coffee to Joan and her sister, I hear the bell ring. As always, my eyes fly over there. It’s already become an instinctual response. I don’t hide my surprise when I see Susie.
“What are you doing here?” I smile at her, as we both walk over to the counter. This time, I go behind it, and she stays in front. “You miss this place so much you need to come here even when it’s not your shift?”
“It sure ain’t the food!”
I hear the voice of George Jefferson, one of the oldest living people in town. He’s 92, or so I’m told, and still able to hold a knife and fork perfectly. His secret? Yard work. We always laugh at that, no matter how many times he swears it’s true.
Both Susie and I chuckle at his comment, as he gobbles down on his food, as he does every single day. Susie told me before that his wife died about 10 years earlier, and he just kept on going, thinking every subsequent year would be his last. But, the last one is still yet to come.
I wonder what his wife was like. Was she a smiling image of an old lady with a green thumb, and together, they’d spend mornings chipping away at the weeds in their garden, and afternoons with a cold drink of lemonade, in their rocking chairs? The simple life is something I always wanted. Perhaps because my life has always been anything but simple. Anything but normal. I figured, at least once I’m an adult and am the master of my own destiny, I’ll be able to have things as I want them. I’ll prevent car accidents that might steal loved ones from me. I’ll be able to say what I really believe, what I really feel. I will be able to protect myself and those I love from what I feel is unfair.
How deluded I’ve been, thinking all this. I can’t protect anyone. I can barely protect myself. But, I know I must try. Dominick is all I have, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone hurt him.
“I just dropped by for a cup of Joe,” Susie tells me, with a glow on her face I haven’t seen before.
“I can hardly believe that,” I wink at her. “You look too nice for just a coffee at our place.”
“Well,” I hear her say, as she looks around, to make sure that no one is listening. In these places, you could never be sure. “Hunter finally asked me out.”
It’s a little strange, hearing a woman of almost 40 talk about dating and someone asking her out. You expect women of her age to be married, with kids in school. But, Susie isn’t. In a way, I understand her. Slim pickings in this place. Those that are worth anything are already taken. As it is everywhere. And the rest of us, left single, are alone for a reason. Broken. Who’d want to fix us?
“Well, about time,” I reply, trying to imagine Susie and Hunter on a date.
I’ve only seen him once, when he stumbled into the diner, thinking it was Susie’s shift. He saw me, greeted me politely enough, but got all confused, finally replying that he’ll come back later to eat. I chuckled only after he left the diner, and understood when Susie explained it that afternoon. They are both somewhat awkward, and I could only hope that their awkwardness would be of the same kind, so they could get warm next to each other, during cold nights. Lord knows I miss that.
Sometimes, I’d still wake up, for a single breathless moment thinking he’s there. Fear would merge with excitement, my blood would run hot then cold. It would take my mind a fraction of a second to remind itself that my bed is empty, save for my own palpitating body. The other one would be sound asleep in his own room, and occasionally, I’d tiptoe to his room, open the door just a little, to make sure everything’s alright. It’s difficult to convince your heart of this, when you know that danger is out there. It is always out there, for as long as it lives. And, you can’t kill it.
“He asked me out to a movie. You know, the drive in, in Rock Falls?”
“I’ve heard of it,” I nod. “Haven’t been, though. You must tell me if it’s worth any. I’m thinking of taking Dom there while the weather’s nice.”
“How is he doing?” she asks considerately, as always.
“Oh, you know,” I nod, glancing at the door, even though I didn’t hear the bell ring. The diner is half empty, and I’m guessing the guests that are finishing their dinners would be our last customers for the day. “Boys.” I sigh heavily, more heavily than I intended to.
“Did something happen?” she asks again, reading me like an open book.
I’ve never been a good liar, even though you’d think that life has taught me better. I just can’t. Especially not when I know someone isn’t asking just out of politeness, but out of genuine interest and concern, as Susie always does.
“He got into a fight at school,” I reply, wiping the counter with a kitchen towel, just after I serve her the coffee she wanted.
“A fight?” she repeats, waving her hand dismissively. “That’s nothing to worry about. I’d be worried if my son didn’t get into an occasional fight at school. I mean, if I had one, of course.”
“Well, we sorted that out,” I continue, putting the kitchen towel back, then leaning closer to her. “But, then, a few days ago, someone knocks on my door. It was late afternoon, and I dozed off. So, I drag myself to the door, and what do I see? My son being brought home by one of those bikers.”
“The Hellraisers?” she says that name, and I can’t help but see the glow on her face turn to fear.
“I think so,” I nod. “What’s the guy’s name?” I pause for a moment. “M something.”
“Mason?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
Susie doesn’t say anything to this. A strange sensation starts creeping up my back, all the way to the nape of my neck.
“What happened?” she inquires, but that fear is still there. As if she knows something, but isn’t sure if she should share it.
“Well, apparently, Dom spray painted their wall or something. Seriously, that boy… I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“What did Mason say?” she asks quickly, as if she’s afraid that something terrible happened.
“Um, nothing really,” I shrug. “He was actually very nice. A bit arrogant though. And, those bikes. Just horrible. But, he was very reasonable, and offered to let Dom work off the damage by painting the house.”
“I see,” Susie’s voice is quiet, her lips pressed tightly together.
My eyes search for hers, but she is unwilling to look at me properly. As if I can read something in them, something she’s trying to keep a secret.
“Is there anything I should know, Suse?” I lean even more towards her as I speak.
I remember Mason’s voice. His stature. How he could crush my hand inside of his, without blinking. He makes a Hell of a nightmare to those who wrong him, I’m sure of that. But, I haven’t wronged him. And, Dom is just a kid who spray painted a stupid wall.
“You know I’m not the one to spread any gossip, Danny,” she tells me, wearily.
“Then, don’t, Suse. Just tell me what you know for sure.”
My voice is sharp, demanding. If there’s anything I need to know about the men my son will be spending weekends with, then she better tell me now.
“You don’t know Sam Michaels, do you?”
“Should I?”
I pause, as I wave at Jane and her sister who point at their table, to let me know that they left their money there. I nod, just opening my mouth for a silent thank you. I gesture at Susie to hold it for a moment, and I go over to clean up the table. I do it with trembling fingers. I’ve never heard of Sam Michaels, but obviously Susie seems to think I should know about him.
A few minutes later, I return to the counter, sitting opposite Susie. The fear on her face has given way to simple worry, but that glow was gone. I could only hope it’d resurface once she meets up with Hunter.
“So, Sam Michaels?” I remind her, but we both know she needs no reminders.
She looks down at the counter, her fingers drumming the laminated surface. Her glance quickly comes back up again.
“He’s… he was Hunter’s friend,” she says, as if her own correction is supposed to foreshadow the ominous tone of the story. “He used to be in business with those bikers. Something went wrong, and… Sam disappeared. That happened a few years back. No one knows what happened to him.”
“Come on, Suse,” I try a smile, but her story lingers on. It’s impossible to forget. “That sounds like something out of a noir novel. A small town crook killed by the big mafia boss. It’s probably embellished a little. Not like much happens here, anyway. So, when something actually does happen, everyone adds a little to the story they pass on, and poof. You’ve got a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holms.” I say all this so quickly and out of breath, that I almost don’t see the look on her face. She isn’t upset or insulted. She’s genuinely concerned. “Sorry, Suse, you know I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just cranky. Forget I said anything.”
I smile at her, cupping her hands with my own, across the counter. Hers are cold, as she tries to muster a smile.
“You’re probably right,” she finally says, and I’m not sure if I believe her or not.
I know she’s only looking out for me. She’s proven this more than once. She’s a person you can trust. So, did she really mention all this and now agrees with me because she really believes I’m right, or she’s just unwilling to discuss it further? My bet is the second one. But, I agree with her. Fear leads nowhere. Or, in my case, it leads you very, very far away. As far as your car would go. And, then on foot a little further away.
“Just don’t get too friendly with those guys,” she adds, just in case.
“Friendly with bikers?” I snort. “No way in Hell.”
Whores and bikers. Bikers and whores.
I don’t go so far as to explain where my dislike and fear of bikers, and whores for that matter, but that has no relation to this story, comes from. Neither of us is all that eager to continue this conversation, but I don’t want her to leave on a bad note.
“So, what movie are you and Hunter gonna see?” I switch topic to something more pleasant, but I’ve already made up my mind. Not only am I driving Dom over to the bikers and back, but I’m staying there until I need to get to work as well.