The Diner

This is a story that I wrote for a creative writing class that I had last fall and I have made a few minor tweaks and corrections. Enjoy! 

Catherine stepped out of her car pulling on a jacket over the top of her black work pants and neon green shirt, proudly declaring that the Route 26 Diner “has the best waffles in the state of Oregon!”. The parking lot only had a few cars and did nothing to diminish the barrenness of the space, despite the gaudy neon lights and quicksilver chrome finish. The silence and intensity of the midnight darkness pressed down on everything; in a constant battle to smother the diner’s lights and slowly crush it with its dark gravity. Shivering, Catherine hurried through the big double glass doors, nodding at Rachel, the third shift hostess, and proceeded to dispense her personal belongings in the back.

 As she walked back to the front of the restaurant, tying on a black serving apron, she surveyed the dining area with a quiet sigh. The tables had been wiped down and the menus placed behind the condiments, but it had a superficial cleanliness. She knew better than to accept the contented façade, because this self-contained diner had transformed from a job, to one of her children and she knew all the tricks and games it played. As she walked between the booths she straightened this or that, noting that exasperating space of white tiles were a booth had once sat, contrasting with the worn, not-quite-white tiles that had been treaded on faithfully for years. Here was the rip in the upholstery that some students out after Homecoming had made, the edges fraying and closely resembling an irritated cut she had on her arm. The windows had vexing scratches, there was dust that stubbornly refused to leave the fake plants by the door, plates and mugs that looked abused and exhausted, coffee rings that lingered reminiscing over those Sunday morning brunches, or first date conversations; sitting down on the tired red upholstery she wondered when this child would grow up and stop needing her to soothe and clean every bump and bruise.

A touch on her shoulder pushed her out of the quicksand of her thoughts and Catherine looked over her shoulder. Greg stood next to her with a knowing smile, “Did I catch you dosing at the wheel?” Catherine stood up and walked with him over to the long white Formica counter, pouring him a cup of coffee as he sat on the opposite side. He removed his hat, exposing a worn blue bandana. He seemed like the rough and mean type, but he had slowly warmed up to Catherine after a few free slices of pie every now and again.

“Naw, I was just thinking some about how much I absolutely love this place,” she joked, sliding the coffee over and pulling over a menu. His thick grey eyebrow had risen with a questioning playfulness and she slowly drew her hand away from the menu.

“Fine the usual then,” Catherine smirked, “double stack of waffles with blueberry syrup and a side of spiced potatoes.”

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled, then taking a sip of coffee, “So how is the college reapplication process treating you?”

Catherine stopped writing down the order and shifted uncomfortably, “Well, I’ve started, but I don’t know if it is the right time for me.” Greg’s tanned face turned solemn as he ran a hand over his thick gray beard and waited for her to continue.  

Hadn’t it just been the other night that she leaned restlessly against the wall, gazing out of that scratched window? It had been a clear, cold night, but a crisp cold that could only be a sign that winter’s rains were coming. She had watched her breath and the steam from her coffee mingle together and then advance onto the chilled glass, only to be beaten and ebb back to her lips. An endless, mindless battle against the icy unknown, and wasn’t she fighting too? Did she not look at applications and pamphlets of universities and tech schools when it was slow? Then she would grow bolder and stronger with each flip of a page; tonight she could write your two week notice. Tomorrow she would start talking to the banks; but then didn’t the unknown, in the guise of logic, push back? It is almost Christmas, or shouldn’t you wait until Adam gets his promotion? In the end, she was just down right scared. Catherine had laughed at that.

Even though it felt like she would never leave this place, like she was magnetized to it, and the harder she thought about leaving, the harder it pulled her back; she was still scared.  Catherine wanted to say that she going back to college and finishing her degree, in anything, just so she didn’t have to be here anymore. So she could stay home with Adam after they put their daughter to bed, instead of pulling on her non-slip shoes and slipping quietly out of the door to go to work. But she couldn’t because she was too worried about how they would make it if she didn’t work full-time; she was too scared she wouldn’t be able to find a new job, so she never would. 

Catherine had lost track of time, Greg had already gotten back into his sixteen-wheeled and started another new adventure, his bill folded neatly under the coffee cup. Catherine cleared the dishes, wiped the counter, and pour herself a cup of coffee. Then she walked over to the countertop stools and slid over the dull upholstery. She started to relax, taking a slow drag of the semi-stale coffee, trying to ignore the curious tingle on the back of her neck as she glanced at the small TV on the wall. The sensation grew more insistent and as she reached back to message her neck, her elbow brushed something soft.  Quickly, she glanced down to see a young girl standing impatiently at her side.

Her wavy chestnut brown hair was being unsuccessfully tamed by a headband and kept falling into her olive green eyes. Catherine’s motherly eye noticed the worn, threadbare, more-gray-than-green shirt, and the scuffs of dirt on the little girl’s khaki shorts; her pockets bulging with probably small rocks and secret treasures. Smiling, she decided that this little girl would fit the description, almost a little too closely, of her own daughter on any given day. She casually glanced around the diner for the little girl’s parents. She looked like she had just been playing doctor; a brightly colored stethoscope hung limply around her neck, a pair of thick black framed glasses poked out of the pocket of Dad’s old, dingy dress shirt that was now serving time as a lab jacket, and a small stuffed cheetah resting loyally by her side. “So where are your parents?” Catherine asked, trying to control the urgent swell of motherly concern and annoyance at the disappearance of the irresponsible parents who would leave their child alone in a diner at four in the morning.

The little girl shrugged indifferently, “I had a question.” She jerked the cheetah into her arms and started tugging on his ear, “Why do you work here? Did you want to be a waitress when you grew up?”

“No, I just work here for now.”

“Then what are you going to be later?”

“Well,” Catherine started, there was something about this girl that was nagging her, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

“Are you going to be a Veterinarian? You know the kind that works out on the safari?” 

She looked down at the girl whispering, “I haven’t wanted to do that since I was little,” Catherine turned away, starting feeling a little light-headed. Who was this little girl? Was she hallucinating? Was it because she drank too much coffee? She pulled herself up so she could look over her shoulder for Rachel, but she wasn’t anywhere in view; probably out smoking a cigarette with the cook. Catherine looked back down at the little girl, still chattering away, demonstrating how what an amazing safari vet she would be on her steadfast stuffed cheetah.

“Do you want to hear a riddle?” She asked excitedly, “You can see nothing else when you look in my face, and I will look you in the eye and I will never lie. What am I?”

Catherine started at her in disbelief. Couldn’t this little girl see that she was in the middle of talking herself out of this caffeine induced hallucination? The girl just stared up at her and Catherine watched as her face slowly twisted with impatience as the minutes ticked slowly by. Eventually, Catherine answered, “My reflection,” then forcing herself to take a long, deep breath, “you’re me, aren’t you?”

The girl laughed. “No, I’m Cat and I know what I want to be. I don’t know who you are.”   

“So if I go back to school and become a veterinarian, I’ll be someone?” Catherine asked, suddenly angry, “Well, I’m sorry it doesn’t work like that!”

“You’re just a scaredy Cat and you know it!” she taunted, pushing the cheetah into Catherine’s face, “You are just a scaredy me! Get it? Because my name is Cat? And you’re a scaredy Cat!” 

            She could hear Cat’s laughter and she felt the shame and anger start to crush her throat, the hot burning lump sat there in her chest. Cat was right, but if Catherine didn’t let out her shame it was going to slowly incinerate her from the inside out. “I hope you are happy about growing up into a scaredy cat like me,” she growled, “because you are not going to be a safari veterinarian and you are never going to do anything with your life, but work in this crappy diner for the rest of your life! Now get the hell out of my face.” Catherine could feel the tears welling up in Cat’s eyes, rolling down her own cheeks.

“You are so stupid!” Cat screamed and started hitting Catherine with the stuffed animal, “It’s your life too and you are going to punish both of us because you are too stupid and scared!! I HATE YOU!”

Catherine stood up violently, knocking over her coffee, “Well I hate you too! Now leave me the fuck alone!” she cried, feeling the tears streaming down her cheeks as she sank to the floor. She knew that she had made a mistake of settling for a life as a waitress. She had just always ignored how much she had hated herself for making the excuses to stay, for punishing herself for never finishing school. She had known the whole time, but she had failed once, and she had been scared that she would fail again.

            Rachel suddenly walked around the booth glancing around, “Cather—oh my God, what happened? I heard something break so I came in.” Catherine didn’t hear her, sitting quietly on the floor with tears on her cheeks and her coffee slowly seeping into the cracks in the tiles around her. Rachel helped her to her feet after a few moments of gentle words and cleaned up the spilled coffee and shards of ceramic.

“Catherine, why don’t you take the rest of the night off? I am worried that you might catch that bug that is going around because you never seem to sleep,” Rachel said with a forced cheerfulness. Catherine could tell that Rachel was concerned about her, like she was getting a little too close to being pushed off of the deep end.  She chuckled quietly; no it was because she hadn’t pushed herself at all. She walked out into the brisk six a.m. chill, the fog carpeting the ground, blanketing the hibernating earth. The sky was dyed a salmon color and Catherine sat in her car and watched as the earth’s phoenix shed its old fiery cloak for the soft golden rays of a new day.

But it wasn’t a new day for her. Her day had started long before in the dark of night, so the sun was her brilliant conclusion, the finale to the pyrotechnics of her epiphany. She started up the car, letting it warm up before she headed home for the day. Maybe she would chase her dream of becoming a vet, but she didn’t think so; she had different dreams and ambitions now that she could follow. All she did know was that she was certainly not going to step foot in that diner ever again.