Page 2 of Midnight Dream

“Oh, no thanks dear.Hecan take my order.”

It was Mrs. Stevenson, the sweet, little old lady who lived up the hill and towards the edge of town. She had a head full of silver hair, and strength belied by the frailty in her arms as she pointed at Dustin.

“Okay,” I said. “Dustin will be more thanhappyto take your order. Won’t you, Dustin.”

“Of course,” Dustin nodded and looked at me. My body grew hot, before he turned his attention to Mrs. Stevenson. “What can I get you today?”

She waddled to the counter and giggled in anticipation from receiving his attention, and I let out a breath. I had no idea how long I could keep playing this game with Dustin, but I know knew he’d noticed my absence.

Where the fuck is Jeanette?

The bell above the door chimed again, and in rushed my assistant manager, with her pretty, light brown hair flying behind her, and accompanied by her husband Jake. Jake was a tall, fair skinned man with sunken, rounded, black eyes and puffy lips. His straight, very light blonde hair is lightly streaked with shades of electric blue, has numerous piercings, and a pencil moustache.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jeanette called as she raced past me. “I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” I yell over my shoulder and roll my eyes. “Hey, Jake.”

Jake gave me a corresponding nod before he helped himself to a seat at one of open tables. “Sorry, Dream. It’s my fault,” he said.

As I glanced over to Dustin, a plan formulated in my mind. Mrs. Stevenson was drooling after him, so it gave me the perfect opportunity. “So, you owe me one,” I told Jake as I eased into the chair opposite him.

“Ha, I guess I do,” he said with a chuckle.

“Good. I know exactly how you can pay me back.”

Jake’s eyebrow raised. “Oh? What are you scheming, Dream?”

#

DUSTIN MUNOZ

The Jaded Farmer Bar was the local watering hole. From the outside, it looked pleasant, clean and cheerful. Soft, wooden planks and marble pillars made up most of the building’s outer structure, and music and songs from within could be felt outside. As we entered through the heavily used, wooden door, I was welcomed by amazing, but unknown scents and laughing voices. At least, they were laughing until the clientele noticed us. Every person in there stopped their conversations and stared. It was like walking into a saloon as the out-of-town stranger in an old western movie. Jake signaled to the bartender for two beers, and pointed to a table underneath a wall-mounted, stuffed bull head. At least the bartender had manners. She was busy, but still managed to welcome us with a wink.

Jaded, as it was called, had its charm. Wooden beams supported the upper floor and had Christmas-like lights attached to them. The walls were empty, besides the lighting, most likely because customers stumbled against the walls too often and would knock off anything on the walls. Jaded was owned by a married couple, like most of the businesses in this town. Seems like the entrepreneurship in Arley was passed down from one generation to the next, making it hard for people to feel like they could escape whatever station they were assigned to in life from birth. It’s a backwards way of thinking, but one they seemed to hold on to.

The bartender was a young woman, light-hearted in disposition and in good, physical shape. She had bronzed skin and black hair kept in a ponytail. The bar itself was packed. Workers seemed to be the primary clientele here, which could be seen as a bad sign, though I wasn’t sure it was. The tables were small, and occupied by couples and people who were clearly having a good time before we walked in.

“Looks like you’re the main attraction,” Jake observed with a chuckle as the bartender delivered our drinks.

I didn’t find it amusing. Being on display was the exact opposite of what I’d had planned for tonight. Having these people come into Dream’s café to play with the stranger like I was an animal in a zoo was one thing, but having them stop their evening activities and stare at me like I was a poltergeist invading their realm was altogether different. I’d checked the parking lot when we arrived, and been scanning for exits ever since we entered. Time to check those sight lines and the upper floor. These yokels, every one of them, had alcohol either on their table or in their hands. Whenever alcohol was involved, things tended to get bad real quick. The hair on my arms were erect. Most of these people I hadn’t seen before, but one or two of them had found their way into the café. As I surveyed the room, looking each one of them in their eyes and trusting my instincts, only one thought was in my mind.

Which one of you is going to try your luck tonight?

Found him.

While Susie the bartender delivered our drinks and left, this idiot Jake was chatting away incessantly. I didn’t like a talker. Breathing was more important than wasting the oxygen in the room on unnecessary words. Most ideas could be expressed within twenty words or less. Anything over that annoyed me. Jake was up to about five hundred words and counting, not including the one-sided conversation we had on the ride in.

Jake had invited me out for a beer after my shift at Dreamy. I wasn’t blind. I saw when Dream pulled him over to the side table and whispered to him, while I waited on Mrs. Stevenson. This was her plan. She wanted him to take me out and get a feel for me.

I loathe deception, Dream.

Jake didn’t convince me to have a beer with him, so much as, it afforded me the opportunity to see more of this isolated town. He was a means to an end for me, and I grew weary of this game. Everyone’s eyes are on me like a mascot at a sports game, including the fool who’s about to try his luck with me tonight. Let’s get this over with.

I have a date with a lady tonight, and her name isn’t luck.

#

DREAM MOORE

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