by Chris Colfer
“By the way, I made up half the shit I just told you, but I think you get the point I was trying to make. See you at lunch!”
Chapter Eight
MADNESS AT MCCARTHY’S
As the 1994 Chevrolet station wagon cruised down the interstate, the picturesque suburbs of Chicago faded from view and were replaced with the vast cornfields of southern Illinois. The fields were beautiful as they swayed in the light summer breeze, but the conscious passengers were afraid mentioning it would wake the actor in the back and subject them to another upsetting lecture about truth-shaming.
Although Cash was the only one asleep, the whole car suffered through his sleep apnea. He snored like a polar bear and twitched like a cocaine addict with PTSD. It was the most restless rest any of them had ever witnessed. Joey kept a hand wrapped around the Ichthys key chain on his backpack in case an exorcism was needed.
After the first one hundred and thirty miles of their two-thousand-mile journey, the travelers were ready for lunch. And judging by the strange gurgling noises coming from Cash’s stomach, he was ready to eat, too. Topher evaluated each roadside establishment they drove past and figured a diner called McCarthy’s was their best choice, so he pulled into their parking lot.
“Hey, Cash,” Topher called from the driver’s seat. “Does this diner look okay for lunch? Cash?”
The actor slowly regained consciousness. “Where are we?” He yawned.
“Somewhere near Lincoln,” Topher said. “There probably won’t be anything else until we get closer to Springfield. This is the first place I’ve seen with a health grade on display.”
“Fine by me,” Cash said, and read the ads painted on the diner’s windows. “Oh look, they’ve got a three-pound burger for three ninety-five. Doesn’t get more American than that.”
They got out of the station wagon, letting Cash out through the rear, and went inside. The tables were set around a giant jukebox and the staff were dressed as celebrities from the 1950s.
“Oh cool, it’s got a fifties theme,” Topher said. “I’ve always thought that’d be a fun era to live in.”
“Speak for yourself,” Joey, Mo, and Sam said in unison.
After a couple of moments waiting in the front, a hostess dressed as a sad Shirley Temple greeted them.
“Welcome to McCarthy’s,” she said. “Table or booth?”
“Either works for us,” Topher said.
Cash did a quick scan of the diner. It was pretty busy for a restaurant off the highway. He pushed up his glasses and lowered his head.
“Actually, we’ll take whatever’s most inconspicuous,” he said.
The hostess stared at him blankly. “Does that mean, like, away from the bathrooms?”
“It means that booth in the very back would be perfect,” Cash specified.
“Okay, suit yourself,” the hostess said. “Right this way.”
The five roadies squeezed into a booth meant for four, sequestered from the other patrons, and the hostess passed out menus.
“Your server will be right with you,” she said, and returned to the front.
“Do you always have to sit in the back of a restaurant?” Mo asked.
“Not always, it’s just better to be safe than sorry,” Cash said. “Going out in public is always a gamble. You never know where Wizzers might be lurking, no offense. One time I went to a movie theater by myself and caused such a scene the LAPD had to escort me back to my car.”
“Seriously?” Joey asked.
Cash scrunched his forehead and thought about it. “Or was it mall security?” he pondered. “Hmm… I can’t remember if that actually happened or if it was a story I embellished for a talk show. It’s a thin line between being a storyteller and bullshitter. Which reminds me, I gotta hit the can. Will one of you order me a McCarthy’s Milk Shake?”
He headed toward the bathrooms on the other side of the diner. Mo watched him, waiting until he was out of earshot before unloading her thoughts.
“He’s terrible,” she said.
“Mo, you’re just saying that because he ruined your Peachfuzzle fantasy,” Topher argued.
“No, I’m saying that because it’s what we’re all thinking,” she said, and glared at Joey and Sam until they nodded along with her.
“He’s more negative than I would have expected,” Sam said. “It’s kind of jarring since he’s always full of positive affirmations on Wiz Kids.”
“He’s nothing like Dr. Bumfuzzle,” Joey said. “I’ve always known he was acting on the show, but damn, I never knew he was that good of an actor.”
Topher laughed defensively and tried playing devil’s advocate since it was his fault the actor had joined them.
“Okay, but that doesn’t mean he’s terrible,” he said. “Just because he’s not like the character he plays on TV doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time with him. Mark my words, I bet by the end of this trip we’ll like him more than Dr. Bumfuzzle.”
Mo gave him an epic eye roll. “Topher, you’re going to go blind from looking on the bright side,” she said. “This is our last adventure before college, and I don’t want him to ruin our trip. We should ask him to leave before he spoils Wiz Kids forever.”
“Ruin our trip? Spoil Wiz Kids?” Topher asked. “Now you sound crazy. Every Wizzer in the world would kill to be in our shoes right now. We’re getting to know the real person behind the character we’ve idolized since we were kids. He’s a little jaded, I’ll give you that—but after all the joy he’s given us over the years, the least we can do is let him be a human being. From what he’s told us so far, I don’t think he gets many chances.”
Mo, Joey, and Sam folded their arms and sank into their seats. They knew Topher was right, but they weren’t wrong, either.
“Shhh… he’s back,” Joey whispered.
“Okay, this place officially gives me the creeps,” Cash said as he squeezed into the booth. “I think McCarthy’s stands for McCarthyism. I just peed in a bathroom marked No Commies Allowed.”
The others were quiet and their body language had changed significantly from when he’d left the group.
“Why the long faces, Downer party?” he asked. “Are you worried I’m going to totally ruin your road trip and you won’t be able to watch Wiz Kids ever again?”
“Of course not!” Topher said.
“No way!” Joey said.
“Never!” Sam said.
“Why would you say that?” Mo asked.
“I don’t know, these days people always act like I’ve crushed all their hopes and dreams whenever I speak my mind. Thanks for letting me be honest in the car and being so cool about it. Well, except Jane Austen over here.”
Cash nodded to Mo and she hid her face behind a menu.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” said a waitress dressed as Marilyn Monroe. “Apologies for the wait, we’re a little understaffed today. May I start you off with something to drink, or do you know what you want?”
“Hmmm,” Topher said as he looked over the menu. “I’ll take a McCarthy Milk Shake and the Red Scare special.”
“Now, that burger is cooked very rare, hence the name. Is that all right with you?”
“I’ll take it medium rare,” Topher said.
“That sounds good—I’ll have the same,” Sam said.
“Me too,” Mo said.
“Me three,” Joey said.
“Me four,” Cash said.
“Great, thanks for making my job easy,” the waitress said. She wrote down their orders but froze when she saw Cash. “Do I know you from somewhere? Did we go to high school together?”
Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo tensed up—afraid they were about to be featured in a future talk show story. Cash played it cool; in fact, he almost seemed to enjoy not being immediately recognized.
“I don’t think so,” Cash said. “Where’d you go to high school?”
“Richwoods High, and yourself?”
“I was homeschooled in California,”
he said.
The waitress was positive she knew him from somewhere and couldn’t let it go. “No, I know we’ve met before. Or maybe you just have one of those faces?”
“I get that all the time,” Cash said. “By the way, could we also get the ‘Hollywood Ten’-Piece Appetizer? With onion rings and mozzarella sticks, please.”
“You’ve got it,” the waitress said. “That’s five medium-rare Red Scares, five McCarthy Milk Shakes, and one ‘Hollywood—’”
It suddenly clicked where the waitress had seen Cash before. She turned bright red, placed a hand over her heart, and lost her breath.
“Oh my God you’re that guy from TV!” She gasped. “I’ve never seen your show—I don’t even know your real name—but you were in my People magazine crossword! What in the world are you doing here?”
“Just eating lunch,” Cash said.
“Oh right… duh!” the waitress said. “Well, I’ll be… I’ll be right back with your milk shakes.”
Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo had embarrassed themselves so much when they met Cash that it was nice seeing someone else make a fool of themselves, too. They wanted to bust up laughing, but Cash was completely unaffected by the exchange.
“So what’d I miss while I was in the bathroom?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Mo said. “We were just going over the schedule for the trip.”
“Cool!” Cash said. “I’m anxious to know where we’re going. Probably should have asked before I chartered a jet to be here, but I was too excited. Would you bring me up to speed?”
“I’ve got the whole trip down to a science,” Topher said. “This afternoon we’re going to stop by the world’s biggest rubber-band ball on our way to St. Louis. In the city, we’re going to spend the evening at the Lewis and Clark Museum and the St. Louis Gateway Arch. Then we’re staying at the Paul Bunyan Hotel a few miles outside the city near the Mark Twain National Forest.”
“The hotel is made up of little cabins,” Sam added. “And they have huge statues of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox out front. It’s a great Instagram opportunity!”
“Tomorrow we’re going to spend the day hiking through the Mark Twain National Forest, then drive to Oklahoma City and spend the night at the Vacation Suites,” Topher explained.
“It’s nothing fancy, but it’s cheap,” Joey said apologetically.
“Tuesday we’re driving to Amarillo, Texas. We’re going to take a tour of the Bundy and Claire Jailhouse, where the outlaws had their famous shootout with the police, and then we’ll stay at the Teepee Inn.”
“All the rooms are shaped like teepees!” Mo said. “It isn’t politically correct, but it’s still adorable!”
“Wednesday we’re driving to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Along the way we’re going to stop at the famous UFO Observation Tower, built on the spot where extraterrestrials allegedly crashed in 1948, then we’ll visit Dinoworld, the largest collection of life-size dinosaur statues on earth, and then we’ll spend the night at the Albuquerque Vacation Suites.”
“We get a discount from also staying at the one in Oklahoma City,” Joey said.
“Thursday we’re going to visit the Petrified Forest, the Arizona Meteor Crater, hustle to see the sunset over the Grand Canyon, and then stay at the Grand Canyon Hotel. It’s ambitious, but as long as we stick to the schedule, we should be fine. Friday we’ll get up early and drive to Santa Monica and spend four days in Southern California—but you probably won’t be interested in any of the touristy things we have planned there.”
The Downers Grove natives were giddy as they listed the stops on their agenda, but Cash wasn’t as enthused—it was the dullest trip he had ever heard of. The actor forced himself to smile to hide the underwhelming gaze in his eyes.
“Cabins and teepees and canyons, oh my!” he said. “So all of this sounds fun to you guys?”
“Oh, absolutely!” Topher said.
“We’ve been planning this for months,” Sam said.
“We each picked out two locations we wanted to see on the way,” Mo said.
“Except the Grand Canyon and California,” Joey clarified. “We’ve all wanted to see those since we were kids.”
Cash nodded but still wasn’t convinced it would be as thrilling as they thought.
“Very nice,” he said. “Hey, here’s an idea! Since you guys already picked your stops, would you mind if I threw a few into the mix when the schedule allows? For example, while you guys are with Lois and Clark, maybe I could find something fun for us to do tonight?”
Everyone looked to Topher and waited for him to answer. After weeks of carefully organizing the schedule, it was his call.
“I suppose that’d be fine,” Topher said, liking the idea the more he thought about it. “Although we’re working with a tight budget. We won’t be able to do anything expensive.”
“Don’t worry about money,” Cash said. “You guys were kind enough to let me crash your trip. Whatever I add to it is on me. I insist.”
A waitress dressed as Grace Kelly delivered their milk shakes. She never looked away from Cash as she set them on the table, then hurried back to the kitchen.
“That was weird,” Joey said. “What happened to Marilyn?”
“Oh, this happens every time I eat outside Los Angeles,” Cash said. “The first waitress went into the kitchen and told the whole staff I’m here. They didn’t believe her, so now they’ll take turns bringing our food to see me for themselves.”
Like a prophecy fulfilled before their eyes, the staff of McCarthy’s did exactly what Cash predicted. A different waiter or waitress brought the appetizer and each burger separately and stared in disbelief at Cash like he was a zebra wearing human clothes. Then, like a relay, a waiter or waitress returned every thirty seconds to get their second look at him.
“Care for another milk shake, sir?” asked a waiter dressed as Elvis Presley.
“Sure, thanks,” Cash said.
“I’d love another, too!” Sam said, but the waiter was gone before anyone else had a chance to tell him.
In the blink of an eye, a waitress dressed as Lucille Ball returned with his refill, but was too scared to stay longer than a split second. Cash slid his new milk shake across the table to Sam.
“I knew they’d do that,” he said with a wink. “Figured you wanted one—I ordered this for you.”
As they ate their food, they could see word of Cash’s presence had spread beyond the staff. A few of the patrons started whispering among themselves and pointing to the sequestered group in the back.
“People are looking this way,” Mo said.
“Let me guess,” Cash said. “The table with the little boy in the red shirt, the booth with the elderly couple, the table with the men wearing trucker hats, and the booth with the teenage girls and their moms.”
“How do you know that with your back turned to them?” Joey asked.
“They clocked me on my way back from the bathroom,” Cash said. “At first they didn’t believe it was me, but after watching the staff freak out, it’s been confirmed. Seriously though, I’ve gotten so good at judging people’s mannerisms over the years.”
“I’d say so,” Topher said. “You could work for the CIA!”
Cash raised an eyebrow. “Who says I don’t?”
Marilyn Monroe returned to the table with their check. Cash put a wad of money on the table and stood up.
“Lunch is on me,” he said. “Now let’s bounce—we’ve got a schedule to stick to!”
The party of five walked to the front door and all the other heads in the restaurant watched them like dolls in a haunted house. The little boy in the red shirt suddenly leaped into their path, blocking them from the exit.
“Are you on TV?” he asked Cash.
“Um… guilty.” Cash shrugged.
“Can I get a picture with you?” the boy asked.
“You know, I’d love to, but my friends and I are on a really tight schedule.…”
Cash looked
to Topher for help, but it was a big mistake. Topher wasn’t properly trained for a rescue mission.
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “One picture isn’t going to set us back.”
As soon as the first picture was granted, everyone in the restaurant jumped up from their tables and surrounded Cash like wolves around a wounded animal. All the waitstaff emerged from the kitchen and joined in as well. It was a sight straight out of a Black Friday shopping spree, and Cash was the hottest electronic of the season.
Forty-five minutes later, Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo were sitting in the car outside while they waited for Cash to finish taking pictures with every patron and employee at McCarthy’s diner.
“This is my fault,” Topher said. “How was I supposed to know everyone else would want one, too? He’s a TV star—not the Loch Ness Monster.”
“Half the people in there don’t even know who he is,” Mo said. “I know that because they’ve already posted their photos online. Listen to this caption, No idea who this is, but apparently he’s famous. There’s something so wrong with that.”
“Sure is,” Joey agreed. “Looks like he’s almost done, though—oops, spoke too soon. Here come the fry cooks.”
“I thought he was exaggerating about that whole LAPD thing, but now I don’t think he was,” Sam said.
Finally, the photo requests inside the diner ceased and Cash was free to go. He climbed into the station wagon through the back and collapsed on the pile of luggage as if he had just returned from war.
“Cash, I’m so sorry, dude,” Topher said.
Cash looked up and glared at him through the rearview mirror.
“What did we learn?”
Chapter Nine
THE WORLD’S BIGGEST RUBBER-BAND BALL
Topher sped down the highway, eager to leave the chaos of McCarthy’s in the past. He felt terrible for not helping Cash avoid the situation, but didn’t know how he could have foreseen it. The anguished driver repeatedly apologized to the actor to squash any hard feelings that might have been forming.
“Once again, I am so sorry for turning you into a human photo op,” Topher said. “I won’t let that happen again.”
