Sam 1

The map of how the Gulf filling was up with oil was more than I could stand to look at.  When Katy came by with the coffee, I latched on just for the distraction.

“Looks like the sun will finally make it out today.”  I surprised her.  I wasn’t usually the chatty type, and she’d already turned to the guy two seats down from me.

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” she said, looking back at me while she kept pouring.  Just like she didn’t even really need to see to know where the rim was.  She’d probably refilled more than her fair share.

The teenagers in the corner busted out again then, and we both looked over.  I’m not sure why – it’s not like they were actually interesting.  Their hilarity was contrived -  like somehow it was created more by circumstances than nature.  But I guess it saved us from looking at each other.

The guy next to me stood up, laying a $20 on the counter.  Katy fished out change from her apron, and I swear she didn’t even count before she handed it to him.  Whatever the amount, it seemed to work for him.

Watching him move toward the door, a woman I’d never seen before caught my eye as she paused at the entrance, scanning.  Not too subtle about it either.  I kinda wished I was the one she was looking for, though.  The penetrating quality of her eyes…yeah.  I could get used to that.

I turned back to the paper and saw that ghost Katy had dropped off my check.  But the woman behind me still vibrated in space, warming my back.  Yes, indeed.  I could get used to that.

Carly 1

The teenagers burst out laughing again, and I could feel the twist low down, buried in my abdomen.  It wasn’t likely they were laughing at me, not at all really.  And yet…I almost wished they were.  It was a measure of how unhappy I’d become: I’d rather have the mockery of an audience, laughing and pointing fingers at my plight, than this feeling of sitting here just disappearing.

The trouble was, I had absolutely zero motivation to join in the conversation.  Charlie, Greg, Blackie, and Dan had surrounded me as they gathered their chairs around, taking over three different tables in their usual territorial stakeout.  At breakfast and lunch, the diner was open to other customers only by their good graces.

It could have been worse.  At least these guys tried.  But at best their own efforts to include me confused them, and in Greg’s case at least the resentment lingered and gathered, accumulating around innocuous comments and moments so that nothing was easy.  In my day, it was the diner time that was the work – all the noise and activity of the site was my sustenance.

Madeline 1

I walked in.  It was 6:35, and lots of people were having breakfast – work day.  That’s why I was there.  I was looking for a particular man, who might have information about the Randall case.  I admit, I was hungry, too.

It was one of those seat-yourself diners, so I did.  First I took a good look around the place, to see if there were any guys there who fit the description.  Noticed the cowboy in the corner right away – odd to see a cowboy here.  He looked like the real thing, too, not a Village People clone, dust clinging to his shirt, calloused hands, wrinkled sun-hardened skin, tired eyes.  Not my guy, though.  At least, not my guy for the case.  Then there was the table of rowdy construction workers, all men except for one lone, quiet woman in the middle.  A couple of businessmen in suites – probably salesmen.  Why did I think that?  I don’t know.  But I did.  Then a couple of guys with their laptops open, typing away, sitting at the same table but not even looking at each other.  One spoke; the other smiled.  They didn’t look at each other, didn’t stop typing.  Then a table with one woman, quietly reading the paper and drinking coffee, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.  At the counter, a bunch of guys in suits, all with coffee.  And another table with some teenagers – at least, they looked like teenagers to me.  Might have been older.  Five of them, two guys and three girls, laughing a lot.  They looked like they might have been up all night – eyes a little red-rimmed, their energy just a bit too edgy and high for 6:30.  Well, 6:40 now.

I didn’t see my guy – maybe it was too early for him.  So I chose an empty booth and sat down, pulling out my iPad.