See No Evil by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2022-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

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Snuffy’s is a greasy spoon on the corner of Lake and Main Street. It’s old, with a 50’s inspired interior. But unlike kitschy diners with a vintage vibe that have popped up in recent years, Snuffy’s is authentic. The same red leatherette booths cradle the same chrome-rimmed tables that served patrons a generation ago. There’s an official soda fountain made of Vermont granite that takes up an entire wall of the diner. The place still has the original black and white checkerboard floor, though it’s cracked and stained in places. And Nanette—the owner’s mother, a fixture at the place—still sits on her high stool behind the cash register, nodding at incoming patrons. She looks like a tiny apple-head doll, her face wrinkled and skin brown.

“How’re ya doin’ today, sugar?” she asks me, her voice surprisingly loud in such a small, bird-like body. “Bring your appetite, I hope?” She maneuvers slowly off the stool and hitches a thin arm around a menu—red, like the booths.

“I did. How are you, Miss Nanette?”

She waves a thin hand through the air. “Can’t complain,” she says, then proceeds to tell me about her arthritic back, problems with digestion, and the recent hike in property taxes all the way to a back booth. She wears thick, white tights, like those that nurses used to wear, under a scratchy-looking mulberry skirt. The tights sag and bag around her minuscule ankles. Bobby socks, with pompoms that bounce with every step, and crepe-soled shoes shuffle ahead of me.

“You meetin’ anyone special today?” Nanette asks coyly, practically batting her lashes over the menus in her arms.

I smile. “Just C.J.”

“Mmm,” she responds, licking her lips. “That’s what I hoped you were going to say. That boy is one fine-looking specimen.” She grins and her tiny face looks surprisingly wolfish. “Don’t let him get away.” Her laugh starts as a cackle and ends in a coughing fit.

I wait for her to stop and then say, “Don’t worry, Nanette. It’s not like that; C.J. and I are just friends. Besides”—I lean closer and lower my voice to a whisper as the front doorbells clang—“I think he likes older women.”

Her face lights up like Christmas lights and she plops the menus on the table and pats at her chest. “Really, now?” More patting, then some interior garment adjusting with gnarled fingers. “Well, I’ll be.”

I order drinks for both C.J. and I, and Nanette moves off to the front of the restaurant.

C.J. slides in a moment later, cheeks pink. I smile at him and point to the front area.

“Set up a hot date?”

“Shut up.” C.J. buries his face in a menu and doesn’t reappear until Nanette has come and taken our order. I would swear she did a little butt wiggle in his direction while departing, but it’s hard to tell under that thick skirt.

“So,” C.J. says, looking from the window to the mug of coffee he’s stirring. “How are you holding up?”

I push the straw up and down in my soda, watching it bounce back every time.

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