Amber

by Dan-Dwayne Spencer

  He nodded. It was better than standing. So, I slid across the vinyl seat on the side closer to the wall and Jimmy took the seat across from me. He grabbed up the menu as I stared out the plate-glass window into the parking lot. From there I could see the Mustang and the fuel pumps too. The world outside appeared frozen in a single magic moment between twilight and dusky darkness.

  The neon lights above the pumps flickered to life. Under the lighted canopy, a trucker stretched his legs while he chatted with the gas attendant. Above, the canopy lights gleamed with the words Diesel and Regular.

  I shuddered as a tingling ran up and down my spine. The next instant the neon flashed, and the only lighted word remaining on the canopy read: Die. A power surge made the letters strobe bright and dim, bright and dim. Inside of me, something dreadful stirred. I wanted to look away—but couldn’t.

  Rose came to take our order, and I forced myself to read my menu. Laughing, I passed off the creepy goosebumps crawling up the back of my neck. “Better get your sign fixed,” my voice had a slight tremor. “No one is gonna want to get gas under that canopy.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Rose. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Can’t you see it?” I glanced out the window, then instantly did a double-take. Everything looked normal. The neon lights, the canopy, the truck, and the men were as they should be. No flickering, flashing, or strobing anywhere in sight. “I thought I saw…. Never mind, it was nothing.”

  Jimmy gave me his famous Jimmy Dugan gaze, “Get it together, Loveless. You’re starting to worry me.”

  Not making eye contact, I pressed my lips into a smile. Worry? That’s all I knew how to do. I worried about my Dad. I worried when my parents fought. I worried because my beard hadn’t started coming in yet. I worried about everything. And Jimmy gave me something else to worry about. It was my turn to drive. I had enough on my plate without worrying about my sanity, but I couldn’t help gawking at the neon lights again. To my relief, normality reigned beyond the plate glass.

  Rose haphazardly tapped her pad with the eraser end of her pencil and also stared out the window. “The trucker standing by the blue rig is Dave. I don’t know his last name, but he’s in here every Wednesday and Friday evening like clockwork. He always fills his rig and orders a take out.” Her attention returned to our table. “That’s where I went for a few minutes, to take him his order.”

  I asked, “Where does he go from here?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Everyone who comes in here is heading somewhere or other. I never ask.” She brought her focus back inside and waited for our order. Visibly impatient, she tilted her head sideways. “Okay, slugger, I’m guessing you want to order. I mean, you are hungry, right?”

  Jimmy spoke up, “Slugger?”

  “Yeah, you’ve been in a fight. I can tell by your eye.” She looked him up and down. “I bet you gave the other guy hell.” A kind of admiration flicked in her eyes; she smiled fondly at him. “What ya ordering?”

  “I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate shake.”

  “You got it.” She scribbled on her pad and shifted her attention to me. “All right, kid, your turn. What’s your order?”

  Ignoring Rose’s derogatory remark, I gave her my best smile and happy eyes. “I’ll have a club sandwich and a Coke.”

  “Oh my,” Rose exclaimed, “you have the neatest eyes. Makes a girl weak in the knees.”

  At last, my superpower had returned.

  From the bar Roger yelled, “Hey Rose, can I have another Coke?”

  She answered, “Sure thing sweetie, be right there.” She gave us one more smile and a wink for Jimmy. “I’d love to chat, but business calls.” Waving her fingers at us, she returned to the customers at the bar.

  How the hell did Dugan manage a wink? He didn’t flirt or say a witty remark. I stared over at him. It was obvious he didn’t need to act suave. Being all hairy and manly, he got action by simply sitting there.

  From behind the service window where the food popped out, a gruff voice bellowed, “Rosie, pick up your orders. They’re takin’ all the shelf space under the heat lamps.”

  Rose yelled back, “Yes, Sam. I’m coming.” She scooped up two plates on her wrists and one in each hand. Like a whirlwind moving down the bar, she plopped them down in front of their respective customers. They negligently applauded her agile performance with the sound of pepper shakers and thudding ketchup bottles. Another turn and she slid a fresh Coke in front of Roger.

  A few chimes from the service bell and she headed our way, carrying all our orders at one time.

  “Hey, you’re really good at this waitress thing,” Jimmy complimented.

  “I wish Sam thought so,” Rosie confessed. “He’s the boss and head cook.” She shook her head in exasperation. “I never seem to get anything right as far as he’s concerned.”

  “Sounds like my Mom,” I interjected. “If you listened to her, you’d think I was a complete imbecile.”

  With a blank expression, she asked, “Well, are you?”

  “What?” I glanced from Jimmy to her and back.

  “Are you an imbecile?” she repeated.

  “No. I’m normal.” Perhaps I was stretching it a bit, but who wants to be a freak?

  She laid our ticket on the table, and slyly added, “Just kidding. Geez, you’re so serious.”

  Thinking about Rose helped me put those strobing lights off of my mind, and the dreadful feeling I had about it. The food was greasy and great. Roger continued to bid for Rose’s attention by reordering Coke after Coke. I chuckled to myself thinking how he would need several empty Coke bottles before the night was over. With our stomachs full, we grabbed Roger and headed to the register. I braved one more look out of the plate glass.

  A tingle ran up and down my spine as Dave’s rig rolled out from under the pump’s canopy and the only neon lights I could see strobed the word Die.

  Chapter Four

  US Route 400

  Looking at the neon flash, die…die…die, I started sweating. The thought of driving made me nervous enough without this dumb canopy proclaiming death. Damn—we were dead meat, and it would be my fault. I wished I could tell Jimmy what I saw, but how could I? Hell, it sounded completely insane to me and it was right there—glowing in my face.

  Jimmy handed the cashier a five, and she gave him twenty-five cents as change. He stuffed his hand into his pants pocket and dug out another quarter. Giving her an uncharacteristic smile, Jimmy asked, “Give Rose this tip, will ya?”

  Three mason jars with names taped to them sat on a shelf behind the cashier. She took the coins and dropped them into the jar with Rose’s name on it.

  I whispered to Jimmy, “Rose makes you smile, doesn’t she?”

  All I got in return was a grin.

  The three of us were heading to the door when a loud crash made everyone in the place turn to see what the hell was going on. Rose stared in remorseful shock at the mess at her feet and where the impact of the falling plates threw pieces of ceramic for yards, flinging food onto several customers. Sam rushed out from the back and yelled at the top of his lungs about her inept serving skills.

  “I’ll be damned. Rosie, this is the last straw. I’m losing money every time you do this. Get your dad-blasted things and get out. You’re fired.” Sam’s baritone voice became tinny and higher-pitched the louder he yelled, “I should have known better than to hire someone from Happy Hollow.” He threw a kitchen hand towel onto the bar and stormed into the back.

  One of the other waitresses, an older blonde with a beehive hairdo, said, “Honey, he’ll get over it. Come back in a few days after he’s calmed down. You’ll get your job back.” She handed her a fringed shawl as Rose swept by. Barging between us, she darted outside. We followed her into the parking lot where she stood, crying.

  Roger blurted, “I have dibs on her. I saw her first.”

  Jimmy didn’t answer. Instead, he gave him a look. It clea
rly said over my dead body, numbnuts.

  I dared another glance over at the canopy. To my surprise, it appeared normal. I sighed in relief.

  Jimmy ambled over to Rose and timidly said, “The guy’s a dick. You didn’t want to work for him, anyway.”

  Roger threw in his two cents, “Yeah, a real piece of shit.”

  Rose’s tears slowed, and she grimly smiled up at us. “You’re right. I didn’t want to work for him, but it’s hard for someone from the Hollow to get work anywhere.”

  She sniffed, stretched her elastic neckline outward, and used the top edge of her blouse to wipe her eyes. The motion was quick, fluid, and innocent, but it flashed enough skin to titillate our teenage hormones. I’m sure from Jimmy’s, six foot four, point of view he saw more than we did. He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

  “Everything’s gonna be alright,” Jimmy cooed.

  Roger gritted his teeth so loud I could hear them three feet away.

  “She’s at least three years older than you,” I told him. “You never stood a chance with her. Hell, I didn’t either. She likes Jimmy because she thinks he’s older.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Roger nodded—but I could tell his concession was going to be difficult.

  Using her index finger, Rose dried what was left of her tears and agreed. “I’ll be all right. It’s always unsettling when I get fired.”

  “You get fired a lot?” I started stammering, “I…I didn’t mean…I meant to say….”

  “I know what you mean.” She sighed and softly touched my cheek. Her fingers felt like electrified velvet. “Yes. It goes along with living at the Hollow.”

  My heart skipped a beat. She was hot, no doubt, and the way she touched my cheek—Dang.

  She paused then said, “Can I borrow a dime to make a phone call? I’ll call my friend Tabitha at the Hollow. She’ll pick me up.”

  Roger fetched a dime faster than the Lone Ranger could draw. He held it out to her and waved it impatiently.

  “I’ll do one better,” Jimmy offered. “Let us give you a ride home.”

  “I don’t know,” Rose said. “I doubt it’s on your way. It’s about fifteen miles northwest of the Tri-state marker. To be more accurate, it’s near Baxter Springs.”

  Roger’s expression suddenly changed. He realized Jimmy had an unfair advantage—one he couldn’t compete with. If he couldn’t capture Rose’s attention, he didn’t want Jimmy to either. “Jimmy, you don’t want to waste your time doing that,” Roger complained. “I mean, we passed the Tri-state marker on our way here. Taking her home means we’ll be driving back toward Texas.”

  Jimmy looked into Rose’s eyes and insisted, “It’s only fifteen minutes out of our way. Then we’ll be back on track. We can spare the time.”

  In an effort to keep Rose and Jimmy apart, Roger said, “You’re the one who is all fired insistent we don’t waste time. I thin—” His eyes grew large, and he yelped.

  Jimmy had nonchalantly stepped on Roger’s toe. All his two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle made his point clear. Calmly he asked, “What were you saying, Roger?”

  After gasping, Roger mumbled through gritted teeth, “Nothing…nothing at all.”

  “Jimmy’s right,” I politely added. “We’ll be more than honored to take you home.” locking my amber eyes on hers, I gave her my most manly look. Then an idea hit me. “Rose, I’m driving, but I don’t know the streets here. Maybe you can drive there and I’ll drive back. If it’s okay with Jimmy. It’s his car.”

  “Loveless, I think that’s great. You and Roger get the back seat and I’ll ride shotgun with Rose at the wheel.”

  She huddled contently under Jimmy’s arm and gave me a sideways glance. “You have a driver’s license?”

  Pressing my lips, I let silence do the talking for me. It didn’t matter anyway because all her attention was on Jimmy.

  Finally, several of her customers were out in the parking lot gathering around her, offering her a ride, and consoling her over losing her job. It seemed to me being from this place she called The Hollow hadn’t made her any the less popular. Or maybe it was the beaded necklaces making her so loved. I wasn’t sure.

  Revenge gleamed in Roger’s eyes. He leaned over to me and whispered, “Wait till I tell Sarah about how he cozied up to Rose. He’ll change his tune.” In an instant, I could see what would happen next. Jimmy would turn on us and beat us both to a pulp.

  Gripping his plaid shirt, I pulled his redheaded butt aside, locked eyes with him, and growled, “You’re not going to tell Sarah anything about what happens on this trip. You got that.”

  He pulled away from me and stepped back. “Since when did you start acting like Jimmy Dugan?” He stood there pressing flat the wrinkles I put into his shirt. “I thought we were best friends. Now you’re all buddy-buddy with Jimmy.”

  “Sorry, Roger. I got carried away. I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.” I stepped back, farther away from him. “But it’s not our place to tell Sarah what Jimmy does. You know how important Sarah is to him. Even if he makes it with another girl, it’s his confession—or secret to keep.” I pressed my lips together and grabbed the most disturbing comparison I could think of. “If you hooked up with a girl on this trip, I wouldn’t go blab to your mom about it.”

  Roger’s face mutated into an expression of pure horror. “Damn. You’d better not. I’d kill you.”

  “Yeah, and Jimmy would kill you too.” I knew I’d hit Roger below the belt, but I had to make him see—sometimes keeping a friend meant keeping his mouth shut.

  I put a hand on Roger’s shoulder and asked, “Still friends?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Best friends.” He gave me an awkward expression. “You wouldn’t tell mom, would you?”

  I meant to answer, but it was then I heard an older man complaining to another wrinkled codger. “Danged kids are going to give her a ride. I thought I was finally going to get a look at what goes on at the Hollow. You know they say all those hippies take drugs and run around naked.”

  Several parts of his fleeting conversation rang bells in my head. The words drugs, hippies, naked, and Hollow added up to one thing. Rose lived in a commune. That was why Sam hesitated to hire her. She was a full-fledged hippy, not just a weekend warrior like we were. During the school term, our lives revolved around classes all week, and then we pretended on the weekends to be part of the groovy crowd. In fact, I’d never met a real hippie before, much less visited a commune. I think my temperature rose five degrees just thinking about it.

  Trying to conceal my excitement, I climbed into the back of the Mustang with Roger, Jimmy sat in the passenger seat, and Rose slid behind the wheel. She took her time adjusting the mirrors, checking where her light switches were, and such. She clicked the foot-switch, flashing the brights on and off, then grappled for something behind her.

  “What are you reaching for?” Jimmy asked.

  “This is a new car and all the new cars have safety belts.” She grappled a bit more.

  “This buggy’s not so new,” Jimmy assured her. “My old man’s 68 Oldsmobile has them, but not this one.” Unrolling his pack of Dorals from his sleeve, he flipped out a cigarette and clicked open his zippo. Placing the end in the flame, he pulled a deep drag and gave it to Rose.

  She had no problem inhaling the smoke and exhaling folded gray ribbons as she drove. “Thanks, I needed that.” She took another drag. “Dorals, huh?” She smilingly observed. “This is a new brand. I’ve never seen these before.”

  “Yeah, they just came out. My… friend clerks at a convenience store back home. She gave them to me.”

  Roger and I kept dumbly silent.

  “I heard that,” she replied.

  “What? You heard what?” Jimmy pulled his eyebrows down into a scowl.

  “There was a silent word in your statement. You purposefully left out the word girl.” She blew more smoke out of the Mustang’s window as she pulle
d onto the highway heading south. “You almost said your girlfriend clerks at a convenience store.”

  Jimmy bowed his head. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  She smiled sweetly. Her sparkling white teeth, lip gloss, and perfectly drawn eyeliner framed her face, giving her an angelic look. “You thought I wouldn’t like you if you had a girl back home—right?”

  Jimmy nodded, keeping his eyes on his cigarette.

  “Don’t worry, man. I like you just fine.” She took another drag and exhaled. “Damn man, what’s not to like?”

  She drove southwest on Highway 44 until a sign announced a cut-off for US Route 400. With no moon out it was pitch dark, making the stars sparkle brilliantly in the black velvet night. They glowed so brightly and there were so many of them; it looked as if I could reach up and scoop them right out of the sky. For about ten miles, everything was fine. We talked and Rose told stories about the funny antics her customers had pulled at the café. After passing the Tri-state marker, she turned northwest. Up ahead a semi-tractor with a long trailer in tow headed towards Wichita, by way of Baxter Springs.

  “That’s Dave’s rig. I’d know it anywhere,” Rose excitedly explained. She looked back at me in the rearview mirror. “You asked where he goes after stopping at the truck stop. I guess he has a route taking him northwest across Kansas.” She sighed. “Isn’t it a thing of beauty? The rig, I mean. It’s all shiny, metallic blue with white pinstriping.”

  From where I sat I couldn’t see any pinstriping, but if Rose said it was there, I believed her. Jimmy and Roger agreed with her every word, but I doubted they could see the pinstripes either.

  Jimmy asked, “How much farther is it to this Hollow you live at?”

  “Not far. It’s only about seven more miles and then we turn due north and go another four miles,” Rose replied.

  I figured she had been born in Kansas if she thought this wasn’t far from the truck stop. Only someone used to everything being miles from civilization would consider this a little hop over to anywhere.