Vinnie's Diner by Jennifer AlLee

Author:Jennifer AlLee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abingdon Fiction
Published: 2015-02-22T16:00:00+00:00

21

Vinnie’s Diner

Sounds.

The steady blip . . . blip . . . of a heart monitor.

The familiar squeak of rubber soled shoes.

Is all of me actually in the hospital now?

No. Wait. The crackling of the speakers.

Someone is calling my name.

“Allie. Allie.”

My back is cold. My hands, palms down with fingers spread out, are cold. The surface I’m laying on is hard and cold. I’m on the floor, not in a hospital bed. I open one eye, then the other. The shape of a man leans over me, silhouetted against the overhead lights.

“Welcome back.”

I gasp in relief. It’s Vinnie.

He hunkers down beside me and helps me maneuver into a sitting position. “Do you want to try standing up?”

I shake my head, a little too hard. Sparkles of light dance in front of my eyes like luminescent dust motes. I scoot back until my spine makes contact with the side of the booth and I let myself slump wearily against it. I wrap my arms around my upraised knees, hugging them tight to my chest. Even that effort is almost more than I can handle and my breath comes in shallow, short bursts.

I blink a few times. My vision clears, and I’m able to focus on my surroundings. The diner has been reduced to one small room. There’s the booth I’m leaning against, the radio, the front door, one stool and one end of the counter. Everything and everyone else is gone.

“Where are the others?”

Vinnie lowers himself all the way down and sits cross-legged on the floor opposite me. “You don’t have enough strength to have them around anymore.” He reaches out and pats me on the arm. “Even if you did, they can’t go where you’re going.”

I let my forehead drop against my knees. Maybe I don’t need them, but I want them. I want Elvis to bring me some disgusting sandwich and twitch his eyebrow at me. I want Norma Jeane to wiggle into the booth, lean forward with her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, and beg me to tell her more about the boy I sent away. I want to talk to them and ignore the strange nightmare place I’ve just come from.

“Are you ready to talk about it?”

My head jerks up, and I glare at Vinnie. Am I ready? How could anybody ever be ready for this? As a matter of fact, no, I’m far from ready, but I get the feeling my time is running out. It’s taking all the strength I have to sit upright, to hold up my head. The realization hits me like a fist to the gut: I may die here. So I nod and hope Vinnie’s going to lead me to the end of this insane maze.

“Good.” He rests his elbows on his thighs, steepling his fingers together. “Why are you so afraid to love Jake?”

You’ve got to be kidding. “Jake? Why do you care about Jake? I want to know who that creepy guy was, and why the park turned to soup.

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