Chapter 2 A Longer Night
a longer night
As Lana pulled into the charming town of Hamby, Georgia, there was an immediate release of any stress Lana had had a few hours before she crossed the county line.
The tranquility of the mountains was a welcome reprise from the highway of trees and asphalt.
As the sun began to set in town, the sky was ablaze with warm pinks, deep purples, and creamsicle orange tones.
Mom and pop shops lined the main streets, and up ahead, there was a quaint little park where a small family was having a picnic in the middle of it all.
The one and only public library was situated to the left as she got closer to the town center, and she could already smell the aroma of library book pages she planned to read.
It made her giddy inside, and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.
As she drove onward, there was a series of small boutique shops to the right of her and a grocery store further down the adjacent street.
Visitors wouldn’t find mainstream chain stores or restaurants in this little haven.
Hamby resembled a town from the early fifties, frozen in time and untouched by the haste of modern life.
Most buildings were old brick constructions, but looked like they could have been built a year ago—all incredibly maintained through the years.
Architecture isn’t done like that anymore, she remembered thinking when she first visited.
It was like stepping into a time capsule.
Back home, whole skyscrapers were built in a few months’ time, and they always felt rushed and cold.
She could feel a physical release of any remnants of anxiety as she drove further.
Lana turned on the roundabout in the middle of the square, and once inside the heart of the town, there were no highways, no hustle and bustle, no blaring car horns—just people walking and holding hands, or riding bicycles…
.peace. After spending sixteen hours on the road, she longed to be still for the duration of her stay.
Lana made a right at the stop sign, and across from it was Mason's, a mechanic shop she had visited once before.
The building was one story, white brick with tall red lettering, and even though an auto garage, it looked warm and inviting like everything else.
As she continued, the local barbershop window was aglow with its twirling blue and red sign on the corner.
From the outside looking in, men were being shaved and getting their hair cut while a few read newspapers, waiting for their turn.
A cliché in any town, but slow, easy, and normal in Hamby.
Watching the utopia before her, she realized how close she had almost come to never seeing it again and felt herself getting angry all over again.
Lana took another deep, soothing breath and allowed the elixir of the sleepy little town to wash it all away.
Further down the cobblestone street was “Aunt Mae’s Diner.
” A classic little eatery with the best food she’d ever had next to her mom’s cooking.
Lana had already planned to order one of the delicious chicken pot pies and take it up to the house for later.
She could already taste the fresh flaky crust, carrots, gravy, and juicy chunks of organic chicken.
No preservatives, no fillers, just real food the way God intended it to be.
She pulled into the diner’s parking lot and turned off the ignition.
As she reached for her purse on the passenger seat, her hand touched nothing.
She looked down at the floor and found the purse and its contents spilled out of it.
Lana rolled her eyes as she reached down and tossed everything back in the small black leather handbag and hopped out of the truck.
The chill in the air stopped her mid-step.
The temperature must have dropped by thirty!
She slammed the truck door closed and rubbed her hands together as she made haste toward the entrance.
Pushing open the stained glass double doors, the smell was exactly as she’d remembered and anticipated.
Aromas of freshly baked bread, collard greens, ribs, and an assortment of other savory smells filled the air, and the warm air surrounded her like a blanket.
Stepping into the foyer, the chill of the cold was almost immediately gone.
There was a toasty fireplace blazing along the side of the wall to her right that gave the space a homey feel.
A waitress, an older woman in a white button-up shirt, bright pink shorts, and a black apron, smiled at her.
She had to have been in her late fifties, as the wrinkles on her face were very prominent.
Her hair was pulled into a ponytail way too tight which made her eyes lift at the corners.
Her lipstick was long gone, and only the remnants of the liner she used earlier were visible, breaking off into the cracks of her wrinkled lips.
“Well, hello and welcome to Aunt Mae's,” she chimed, with her southern drawl, “Will you be dining in tonight, honey?”
Lana loved their accents—it always tickled her when they spoke.
“No, I’ll be ordering to go tonight, please,” she replied.
“Well, alright then, if you'd like, have a seat at the counter, and I’ll be right with you to take your order, okay,” her arm extended to the bar stools up against the counter in front of the kitchen.
“Okay, thank you,” Lana replied, and in a Nanosecond, the waitress was gone to help other customers.
The diner was like any you would see on TV.
Jukebox in the corner, album memorabilia hung on the walls, and even a few autographed celebrity pictures.
The plush booths were green and white, with wooden table tops and the walls had wood paneling on the bottom with floral cream-colored wallpaper on the top.
The windows were large, granting a beautiful panoramic view of the town outside.
The first time Lana had visited, there was a McDonald’s being erected right across from the diner.
Most restaurant owners in big cities may have been worried, but not Aunt Mae.
When the local TV news interviewed her at the diner and asked how she felt about it, she smiled and replied, “It won’t last a month,” tossing her dish towel over her shoulder and bustling back into the kitchen.
Aunt Mae was the cutest thing Lana had ever seen.
She was about five-foot-one, Black and sassy in her mid-sixties, but she didn’t have a wrinkle on her face.
She had an exuberant personality and always wore a huge smile on her face.
Mae wasn’t overweight or skinny, however, her bosom and posterior made her look larger than she was.
As predicted, by the time summer came to an end, the McDonald’s was shut down and converted into a general store.
Lana could see Aunt Mae through the window in the kitchen door, bossing around the sous chef staff.
She ran a tight ship, and it showed in every meal.
On the counter in front of her, there was an array of cake stands with dark chocolate, red velvet, and a strawberry-frosted cake.
Her mouth watered instantly sitting so close to them as hungry as she was.
Next to those were other stands with every pie you could imagine.
Lana was already deciding which ones she wanted to try, but before she could form another thought, the waitress was back with her pad in hand.
As much as she visited the diner in her past visits, this was the first time she’d seen her.
Lana noticed the name “Rachel” was scrawled on the hot pink badge, and she made a mental note to remember it.
She felt it was only polite to use the names of the people serving you.
“What'll you have this evenin' sugar?” Rachel asked.
“Hi Rachel, I’d like the chicken pot pie and a slice of pumpkin pie, please.”
“Good choices. I’ll be right back with your order in two shakes of a lamb's tail,” she replied, tapping Lana on the shoulder with the pad and a grin on her face.
It wasn’t forced or phony like you sometimes get in the city because the waitress wanted a good tip.
You could tell she loved her job and was probably a happy person in general.
Rachel marched over to the kitchen window and placed her ticket on the order wheel.
Watching the people in the restaurant and seeing the smiles and laughter, she could feel the love of this community.
Hamby always brought out those feelings in her when she arrived.
It was like she was coming home, like nothing in her regular life could touch her there.
Then, the windows started to vibrate as loud music blasted from the street, something that was very un-Hamby- like and forced everyone in the restaurant to pause and look out the window.
That black McLaren! She recognized it immediately.
It swerved through the roundabout too fast, taking out a park bench, and was speeding towards the diner.
As it got closer, the high beams cast the colors of the stained glass door, spewing beams of green, red, and yellow lights through the windows, blinding her.
When she adjusted her eyes, the lights grew more intense, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop!
Everything appeared to be moving in slow motion now as she saw what was unfolding in front of her.
Rachel, carrying her take-out order, looked toward the lights and shielded her eyes while she stood in front of the entrance door.
Before she could react, her face froze with horror as she realized what was going to happen next, and it was already too late.