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Jake's mom was dying and he had to get to her before it was too late. He had no time to figure out what was happening on the drive.
Jake parked and walked into the low diner with its comforting lights brightening up the dead dark night.
He was famished, not having eaten for hours, and even though he knew he didn’t have much longer to drive and he was desperate to see his dying mother, he had to get a bite. He told himself it was better to eat now, than show up at the hospice hungry and unable to pay attention to what was happening.
He almost stumbled into the diner. Inside was as comforting as the lights promised it to be, and although it was well after midnight, there was a few patrons dotted around the plastic red tables, their hands curled around war steaming mugs, their faces dipped towards plates of comfort food. He couldn’t smell anything, and he somehow noticed that, and the silence. No clinking of cutlery, no coffee and bacon aroma.
Well he’d been driving along the dark highway for hours, focused on getting to his mother while trying to keep his looming grief at bay. No wonder his senses were out of joint.
There was nothing out of joint in the hot plate of food the smiling server pushed over to him. He couldn’t remember what he ordered, in his heightened emotional state, just that it was plentiful, warm, cheesy, gravy, meaty. He shovelled it into his mouth, feeling the energy and goodness radiating along his tired limbs. He was grateful to the server for not chatting to him, understanding his wordless need for distance. He sipped the coffee, and it was perfect, not too hot, not too cold. He didn’t burn his mouth, and he gratefully took a huge gulp. The dark liquid flowed through his veins, lifting the veil of fatigue, and he looked around, taking slightly more interest in his surroundings. The server was pretty.
But he couldn’t dally. He would never forgive himself if he arrived too late. The hospice staff had been kind, but clear.
He pushed his credit card to the pretty server. She smiled even more broadly, and said something- he couldn’t hear, or understand. “On the house”? But why?
He didn’t have time to discuss. If they didn’t want his money, fine. He pocketed his wallet, nodded, and headed out. His sense of urgency heightened, he almost missed the door, narrowly avoiding walking into the wall.
Heavy darkness still blanketed the stretch of highway. He looked back at the diner, its twinkling lights still advertising “DINER” “OPEN”– the only lights visible. The windows were dark.
What?
He didn’t have time to wonder- he had to get to his mother, and with his belly full of warm lovely food, there were no more excuses to dally.
But he needed gas. Luckily there was a gas station just on the other side of the highway. Carefully, he drove in, and as he got out, the first rays of dawn pierced the darkness.
Pumping gas, he glanced over his shoulder. In the grey light, he couldn’t see the diner lights at all. No building.
The other side of the highway was just emptyness.
Jake cried out despite himself. An elderly man pumping next to him looked up.
“Son?”
Jake closed his mouth. Then opened it again. “There was a diner there” he muttered, and with his free hand pointed across the highway to the patch of grey nothing.
The man said grimly “Son, you can’t be from around here if you don’t know what happened there. That old diner closed after all that hullabaloo died down, and got torn down few years back. Nobody was eating there no more”
Jake stood quite still. He could still feel the warmth of the food in his body, the aftertaste of coffee in his mouth. He looked at the old man, who was minding his business pumping gas.
He needed to get back on the road. He had to get to his mother. He couldn’t stop and argue.
Quickly, he swiped his credit card and paid for the gas, jumped into his car, and tore off.
#entertainment
Jake parked and walked into the low diner with its comforting lights brightening up the dead dark night.
He was famished, not having eaten for hours, and even though he knew he didn’t have much longer to drive and he was desperate to see his dying mother, he had to get a bite. He told himself it was better to eat now, than show up at the hospice hungry and unable to pay attention to what was happening.
He almost stumbled into the diner. Inside was as comforting as the lights promised it to be, and although it was well after midnight, there was a few patrons dotted around the plastic red tables, their hands curled around war steaming mugs, their faces dipped towards plates of comfort food. He couldn’t smell anything, and he somehow noticed that, and the silence. No clinking of cutlery, no coffee and bacon aroma.
Well he’d been driving along the dark highway for hours, focused on getting to his mother while trying to keep his looming grief at bay. No wonder his senses were out of joint.
There was nothing out of joint in the hot plate of food the smiling server pushed over to him. He couldn’t remember what he ordered, in his heightened emotional state, just that it was plentiful, warm, cheesy, gravy, meaty. He shovelled it into his mouth, feeling the energy and goodness radiating along his tired limbs. He was grateful to the server for not chatting to him, understanding his wordless need for distance. He sipped the coffee, and it was perfect, not too hot, not too cold. He didn’t burn his mouth, and he gratefully took a huge gulp. The dark liquid flowed through his veins, lifting the veil of fatigue, and he looked around, taking slightly more interest in his surroundings. The server was pretty.
But he couldn’t dally. He would never forgive himself if he arrived too late. The hospice staff had been kind, but clear.
He pushed his credit card to the pretty server. She smiled even more broadly, and said something- he couldn’t hear, or understand. “On the house”? But why?
He didn’t have time to discuss. If they didn’t want his money, fine. He pocketed his wallet, nodded, and headed out. His sense of urgency heightened, he almost missed the door, narrowly avoiding walking into the wall.
Heavy darkness still blanketed the stretch of highway. He looked back at the diner, its twinkling lights still advertising “DINER” “OPEN”– the only lights visible. The windows were dark.
What?
He didn’t have time to wonder- he had to get to his mother, and with his belly full of warm lovely food, there were no more excuses to dally.
But he needed gas. Luckily there was a gas station just on the other side of the highway. Carefully, he drove in, and as he got out, the first rays of dawn pierced the darkness.
Pumping gas, he glanced over his shoulder. In the grey light, he couldn’t see the diner lights at all. No building.
The other side of the highway was just emptyness.
Jake cried out despite himself. An elderly man pumping next to him looked up.
“Son?”
Jake closed his mouth. Then opened it again. “There was a diner there” he muttered, and with his free hand pointed across the highway to the patch of grey nothing.
The man said grimly “Son, you can’t be from around here if you don’t know what happened there. That old diner closed after all that hullabaloo died down, and got torn down few years back. Nobody was eating there no more”
Jake stood quite still. He could still feel the warmth of the food in his body, the aftertaste of coffee in his mouth. He looked at the old man, who was minding his business pumping gas.
He needed to get back on the road. He had to get to his mother. He couldn’t stop and argue.
Quickly, he swiped his credit card and paid for the gas, jumped into his car, and tore off.
#entertainment
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