Be My Eyes by Dustin Stevens

Author:Dustin Stevens [Stevens, Dustin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2014-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

Hal’s Diner is alive with business, the midday rush, if such a thing exists in a town like Wakeeney, out in full force. Everything in the place is gleaming white, the chairs, the tables, the floor, rimmed with polished steel. A small chalkboard greets folks as they enter, informing them to sit wherever they like and that butternut squash is the soup of the day.

The entire space measures no more than fifty feet long, half that in width. Upon entering, the right wall houses a window, the kitchen visible on the other side. A long bar covers the entire side of the room, polished chairs spaced along it. A single waitress with teased out hair and lipstick on her teeth runs back and forth, collecting and distributing orders.

The rest of the space is divided between tables and booths, the tables occupying the middle ground, booths getting the windows. A second waitress runs amongst them, younger, with dark hair and a mole on her cheek.

In the far back booth sits Ruby and Cole, Ruby with her back to the room, Cole facing out.

Ruby is no longer sweating, her skin dry and chalky. Bags hang beneath her eyes and she looks like she may vomit at any moment. Across from her is Cole, his grey undershirt now pulled on. The streak of Ruby’s blood stretches from his navel all the way to his ribs, dark red, almost dried.

“The man at the shop said he’d send someone after the car in a few minutes,” Cole says, ignoring the room, staring across at Ruby. “Once they have it back, they’ll put a patch in the tire and have us on our way.”

Ruby nods and swallows, a knot working its way down her throat. “How long do you think it’ll be?”

“Shouldn’t be more than an hour,” Cole replies. He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, dipping his head to look up at her. “How you feeling?”

“I’ll be okay, just got a little overheated.”

Cole nods, his gaze drifting out the window. The two sit in silence for the better part of ten minutes as three of the tables around them turn over, the waitress with the mole greeting them all by name. Each of them responds in turn, informing her they’ll have the usual.

Cole hears every word without looking over, smirking at the small-town scene playing out.

Again with the stereotypes.

Twelve minutes after arriving, the waitress returns and sets down their meals, a burger and fries for Cole, a bowl of soup with crackers for Ruby.

“Thank you,” Ruby says, her hands folded in her lap.

“Thanks,” Cole mumbles, watching Ruby.

The girl nods and lingers a moment, staring at the two of them. Her eyes drift to Cole, who meets her gaze and shakes his head to the side.

He’s not sure what she’s after, but he’s certain he’s not interested.

Ruby presses her hands together to pray as Cole waits before dropping her napkin into her lap and opening a pack of crackers. She dips them one

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