Page 24 of Sidhe
The silence that answered was too unsettling after what Nathan had been through. He tightened the grip on his knife. When he heard sudden movement coming from the kitchen, Nathan’s instincts had him drawing his weapon and brandishing it at…the man who came out of the back wearing a T-shirt, jeans,an open blue button-down, and a slightly greasy apron around his waist.
Nathan felt low as dirt when the guy’s hands reached for the ceiling.
“Now, son, I’m sure we can work out something if you’re a little short on cash,” the man said evenly. He was only about mid-30s, less than forty anyway, so a little young to be calling Nathan ‘son’ in his opinion.
He immediately lowered the knife to show he had no intention of using it. “No, I…I’m not holding you up. I just…there was no one here and there aren’t any cars out there and…” He took a breath. “Guess I’m a little trigger happy these days. Sorry.” He put the knife back into the sheath on his leg and wondered if he should just leave.
His expression must have been as easy to read as the old Coca Cola posters on the walls because the man said, “Have a seat now, no need to go,” with a relieved smile. “And don’t worry too much about the mistake. Don’t mind a man carrying a weapon long as it’s not used on me.” His voice had a soft southern drawl Nathan couldn’t place but it might have been local.
This guy wasn’t exactly what Nathan expected to find of a lone truck stop owner in the middle of the night. He wasn’t seventy-five and sporting a beer gut for one. He had short brown hair that dusted his eyes, eyes that were a kind, pale blue that looked entirely humored and understanding, and his body was built strong more like a soldier than a cook.
Nathan hoped the grin he tossed the man wasn’t the grimace he imagined and went up to the main counter to sit down.
“Coffee?” the man asked, ducking behind the counter and lifting up a pot. Before Nathan could answer, the man wrinkled his nose and gave the pot a shake. “On second thought, let me make you a fresh one. You’re the first customer I’ve had since half past ten. Wouldn’t want to poison ya.” He smiled at Nathanagain, turning around to fiddle with what looked like an ancient coffee machine.
“Thanks,” Nathan said, rubbing a hand down his face to wake himself up. He definitely needed that coffee. It was something like four in the morning and he was feeling a million miles away from his body. “Don’t get much traffic through here, huh?”
With his back still turned, the man shrugged. “Depends, I s’ppose.”
“But you stay open anyway? You been here all night?”
The pot securely in place as the gurgling sound of coffee brewing began, the man turned back around and tapped his nametag. It said‘Dave’prominently. “Sorta have to, ya see. Don’t always get the extra help I’d like around here. But I don’t mind. Some nights you’d be surprised how jumping this place is, even at this hour, if it’s the right time a year and enough truckers are making rounds. Just us tonight though, I guess, if ya don’t mind?” His grin was ever-present, friendly like a Southern boy who had grown up on manners from birth.
Nathan respected people like that. He smiled back at the man,Dave, as best he could.
“Can I get you something to eat?” Dave asked. “Coffee won’t be long. I can whip something up. Or might have something already made. Probably just leftover pie though,” he said as though he considered that a poor excuse for a menu.
Part of Nathan almost wanted to laugh but he didn’t have it in him. “Nah, I…I don’t think I could eat anything.” He ran a hand down his face again.
Every shadow in the place seemed to be jumping at him. The image of Malak looming monstrously in the backseat of his car was a hard thing to shake, that and everything the sidhe had said. Nathan had to repress a shudder before looking back up and catching concerned blue eyes.
“You alright, son?” Dave asked, arms folded as he leaned back on the counter behind him. “You seem maybe like you’ve seen a ghost. Rough night?”
“It’s…nothing. Just tired. Almost had an accident out there, and I guess it shook me up a little.” That wasn’t a flat-out lie at least.
Dave nodded in understanding. “Good thing you stopped then. Last thing I’d want is for one of you boys to fall asleep at the wheel. Course the boys I’m used to are usually hauling in 9-ton rigs.” He smiled knowingly.
The jig was up, not that Nathan had done all that good a job at hiding that he was on the run. “Just passing through, pal,” he said, silently adding that he didn’t mean any harm and didn’t need any questions. To his relief, Dave merely nodded again.
It was quiet for a while, just the sound of the coffee machine and the Country music on the jukebox. The lyrics of the song were easy to pick up on as they filtered through the empty diner. One of the reasons Nathan had kept the radio off most of the time while he was driving was because music had a way of speaking about who and where you were right at that moment, even if you didn’t know the song.
The current one was no exception, some mournful ballad about people ready to call it quits in life, who then finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel and had a little faith. Right.
“Hey…I don’t suppose you got something else on that thing?”
“Besides Country? Not really.” Dave smiled a little crookedly. He sat up and Nathan thought maybe the guy was going to head over to the jukebox but instead he produced a very modern looking remote from under the counter and pointed it in the jukebox’s direction. “I’m secretly a tech junkie. Don’t tell anyone. I like the old fashioned look but I can fit about a million more songs this way. You seen one a these before?” he asked as he flipped the song to one with more of a blue-grass feel.
Nathan had definitely seen one of those digital jukeboxes. It was just like the one at the Gatehouse where he had made his decision to leave, the decision that had led to Malak being able to go as far as he did tonight. “Yeah…” Nathan admitted, “they’re something else.”
“Hey, let me make you something,” Dave insisted after he had stashed the remote again. “You look like you haven’t had a decent meal in days. At least let me throw some fries in the fryer,” he went on before Nathan could protest. “Two minutes. Not even any effort on my part.”
Maybe it was the Southern charm or just that this guy was being so damn friendly and accommodating for four in the morning that Nathan couldn’t bring himself to say no. “Sure, man, knock yourself out. Might help keep me awake anyway.”
“Coffee should be done by the time I come back,” Dave said before disappearing into the kitchen. It was the least Nathan could do to scarf down some fries for this guy. And he really should have something in his stomach.
As he waited, the diner creaked and shifted around him as if it were a living thing, the music still playing from the jukebox hauntingly. Nathan had been alone almost two weeks but something about being alone now unnerved him. There was a mirror behind the counter directly in front of him, and when he glanced over he really did look like shit—worn out, tired, too thin.
He blinked and black eyes stared back at him.
