Dead Shot

by Ethan Johnson

  Her father drummed the steering wheel as he drove, in time with a song in his head. He made rhythmic sounds through his clenched teeth, but she didn’t recognize the tune and was far more interested in a blue sign that advertised a cluster of three restaurants a mile ahead. Her father snorted a laugh as the sign whizzed by, and said, “Good old Rickenbacher’s. There’s some good old reliable road food if there ever was.”

  Diana tried to feign disinterest, but not too much, lest her father keep driving, and pass up another opportunity for gas and grub. “Yeah, that’s good, I guess.”

  He turned sharply and brightened up. “You guess? Best damn pies on the interstate.”

  “Whatever is fine with me, Daddy.”

  He snorted, and shook his head, returning his gaze to the road. “Whatever is fine, huh? Okay, then. Won’t waste the finer things on you, young lady.”

  Diana’s stomach groaned in protest, and she crossed her arms tightly in hopes of quelling the noise. “No, I mean, I’m fine with stopping there, if you like.” Another blue sign passed by, and she tried to close the sale. “Look, they’ve got gas here too if we’re getting around that time.”

  He shifted his right hand on the wheel and frowned at the gas gauge. “We can probably get about a hunnert more miles on this tankful fore we hafta gas up.”

  Diana’s stomach rumbled again. “Daddy, I’ve got to pee.”

  He shot her a disgusted glance. “You what?”

  Diana crossed her legs and put on a show of discomfort. “Please?”

  The exit came into view, and the Rickenbacher’s sign stood like the pearly gates, to Diana’s eyes. Her father bit his bottom lip again, then moved over into the left lane. The exit slipped past them on the right, and Diana watched it vanish over her shoulder as her father stepped on the gas.

  “Daddy, the bathroom.”

  He gripped the wheel and stepped on the accelerator a bit harder. “Hold it, baby. There’s a better place coming up.”

  Diana slumped in her seat and looked at the restaurant in the side mirror. They were open 24 hours and had the best pies on the interstate, that’s what he said. Two police cruisers were parked close to the building, and for a fleeting moment, she thought of Deputy Simmons. That was well over 3 hours and at least 100 miles ago, she figured. Those cops would be none the wiser if that was his reasoning for not pulling in.

  She crossed her legs tighter and pressed her shoulder against the inside wall of the pickup cab. “Okay, Daddy.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Diana’s father grinned and let out a long whoop. Diana tried to smile along with him, but hunger was getting the better of her, and worse, she really did need a bathroom stop. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and nodded.

  “Yeah baby, yeah baby, yeah!” He twirled a fist and slapped his palms in a rat-a-tat drumbeat on the steering wheel.

  “What happened, Daddy? I don’t see nothing but more cornfields.”

  “We’re over the border, baby doll. Keep your eyes peeled for someplace to eat. Someplace nice. Let’s celebrate, you and me.”

  Diana’s stomach was through growling. Until she had food on the table, or better yet, in her mouth, her stomach wasn’t taking any more verbal assurances. “Okay, Daddy,” she said and sat up attentively. A blue sign materialized on the horizon, and she leaned forward, anticipating the offerings at the upcoming exit, then sinking down at the realization that there was just gas, and a discolored patch where the sole lodging sign used to be.

  The next two exits didn’t yield much else, and Diana slumped in her seat even more. Her eyelids drooped as her body went on defense, opting to put her under for a nap rather than being tormented by the prospect of not eating. She felt the road hum beneath the wheels and slowed her breathing down as a vision of a placid lake rimmed with mountains on a cloudless sunny day entertained her from behind her eyelids.

  She snapped awake at the sound of the turn signal clicking, and the truck slowing down and pulling to the right. She sat up and peered through the windshield. A neon Stickler’s sign stood like a natural wonder. Her stomach sounded interested.

  She turned to her father, who shot her a toothy grin. “See? Toldja, someplace nice. They’ve got a baked potato bar, I bet.”

  Diana bounced a little in her seat and genuinely smiled in response. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Aw, anything for my girl.”

  The truck pulled into the parking lot, and into a space close to the front entrance. Diana jumped out the second her father switched off the ignition and ran into the restaurant, desperate for the bathroom.

  She found her father at a table for four, leaning back in his seat, pressing his thumbs together on his lap. She brushed her hair away from her forehead and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Daddy, I couldn’t hold it no more.”

  “You coulda waited for me,” he sniffed.

  “I really couldn’t. No disrespect, honest.”

  He sat back and seethed for a few minutes, biting his bottom lip. Diana wasn’t sure what to expect from him. They were out in public, so she didn’t think he’d hit her, but a storm was brewing behind his dark eyes, and that look spelled trouble. A waitress in a blue dress with a white apron and thick glasses rushed to their table. Diana’s eyes darted to her name tag, engraved with MABEL in cursive script.

  “I like your dress,” she said to Mabel, who looked up from her order pad, surprised.

  “Oh, this thing? Tch. They make us wear this crap. I’m just happy they don’t make us pay for ‘em.” Her father looked Mabel up and down and gave a faint frown. He leaned back in his chair coolly and smiled up at her. Mabel smiled back. “Sorry ‘bout the wait. What can I get you two?”

  Diana sipped her fizzy cola and rushed to eat her fries. Her father pushed a forkful of peas around his plate before giving up and using his thumb to get them up on his fork. Diana suppressed a burp, then looked up at her father, who seemed deep in thought. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said, hoping to break the ice.

  He shook his head slightly and looked her in the eyes. “What for?”

  “Lunch… taking care of me… teaching me to shoot.”

  His eyes widened, and he looked around frantically. He made a shushing gesture to her and bent forward over the table. “Hush up about that, baby. Nobody but us two needs to know.”

  Diana dropped a handful of fries and nodded. “Sorry, Daddy, I didn’t mean nothing by it, I’m just saying thank you for taking care of me.”

  He leaned back and patted her hand. “That’s alright, sugar plum. I’m your Daddy, ain’t I? I’ve got to watch over you and keep you safe.”

  Diana nodded and picked up another fry. “From the bad men.”

  “Darn straight. Eat your green beans. No daughter of mine lives on junk food.”

  After lunch, the two sat in silence. The check was face-down on the edge of the table, delivered by Mabel with an airy, “Whenever you’re ready, no rush.” The top right corner was wet with condensation from Diana’s water glass. Diana looked at the check, then up at her father.

  He picked at his teeth with a spare fork, then set it aside. He shifted in his chair, and Diana took that as a sign that they were leaving. She started to pull her chair back when her father waved her down. “Sit a while,” he said. “You heard the lady. No rush.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” She scooted her chair closer to the table and looked around at the restaurant. All the artwork hung in brass frames and each item had a price card tucked into the bottom right-hand corner. She squinted at a watercolor painting of a pair of ducks standing beside a pond and made out $250 in blue marker. She sat back and wondered who would pay that much money for a painting.

  Her father raised his chin. “Hey, baby, there’s a variety store next door.”

  She looked over her shoulder and shrugged. “It’s a drug store, Daddy.”

  His face reddened. “Well, they got a variety of stuff there, ain’t they, Miss Smarty? I was trying to do something nice, but not if you’re gonn
a smart off to me.”

  Diana tipped her head forward and showed remorse. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  He smiled and reached into his front pocket. He produced a crumpled up $20 bill and placed it in her hand. “Why don’tcha go see if they’ve got any of that candy you like.”

  Diana’s eyes bulged at the sight and feel of the bill. “Really? You mean it?” Her father made her quit her job a few months ago, and she relied on him for everything since then. The heady thrill of financial freedom coursed through her veins as she imagined buying anything she wanted, or at least as much as could be had for $20.

  He nodded and waved her off. “Maybe get me something too.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Diana stood at the checkout line, clutching a bag of candy and three bags of beef jerky. Her $20 windfall was whittled down to at least $5; more if her father let her keep the change. The cashier rang up a carton of cigarettes, and reached for a six-pack of beer, causing Diana to grimace and step out of line. She walked quickly toward the back of the store and picked up two bottles of cola, tucking them under her left arm, and finding their chill uncomfortable. She hurried to the front of the store and took her place in line behind three more customers. She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, anxious to set the cold drinks down and pop everything in a bag. She eyed a stack of plastic baskets under a worn sign that read FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE but didn’t dare leave the line again. Two more customers stepped behind her, looking blankly forward.

  When the third customer finally stepped away from the cashier, thumbing through a handful of scratch-off lottery cards, Diana dropped the pile of goodies on the counter, to her great relief. The cashier looked down at the lot, and said in a slow drawl, “This everything?”

  “Yes,” she said, and straightened out her lone $20 bill. The cashier sighed and scanned the items one by one, then pressed a key on the register.

  “$22.74.”

  Diana swallowed hard. “H-how much?”

  “Twenty-two dollars, and seventy-four cents.” He tapped the digital readout on the register to support his claim.

  She slid her fingers along the bill and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew her father’s generosity came with strings attached, and she shouldn’t have dared to dream that she would have benefited from it. Everything flowed back to him, like rainwater down a sewer grate.

  “Take one of the sodas off, please.”

  “Do what, now?” The cashier’s shoulders drooped. The line behind Diana had grown, and she hated being a bother.

  “Take one of the sodas off, please. I made a mistake.”

  The cashier sighed louder, scanned one of the bottles, and pressed a few keys on the register. “Okay, $20.14.”

  Diana gulped and felt light-headed. She looked around for any sort of saving grace, such as a dime mixed in with the “take a penny” dish, which contained a single penny and a crumpled chewing gum wrapper.

  “Um, I only have this. Can you… can this be enough?” She held up the bill, which drooped over her thin fingers.

  “Today already, Jesus,” complained one of the customers behind her.

  “Oh, God. Cash?” groaned another.

  The cashier shook his head, and before he could speak, she said the words she hoped she wouldn’t have to utter: “Take the candy off too, please.”

  The cashier shrugged and fished the candy out of the plastic shopping bag. He scanned it and pressed a few keys on the register again, tapping the last one with a bang, giving Diana a start. “$16.87.”

  She thrust the bill to him, and the cashier snapped it from her hand. He banged away at the register, and the drawer slid open, bumping into his round belly. He pulled out three bills and a dime but hovered over an empty slot. He poked around in the drawer, then raised his head and called across the store. “Hey, Mike, got any rolls of pennies back there?” The crowd behind Diana voiced their disgust at another delay.

  Diana waved him off. “I don’t need the pennies.”

  The cashier shrugged and dropped the change in her hand, then handed her the shopping bag. “Alright now. Next.”

  Diana skulked out of the drug store, feeling insults pelt her back from the people in line behind her. She dropped the dime on the sidewalk and stooped to pick it up, feeling her cheeks redden with frustration and embarrassment. She stuffed the bills and sole dime in the shopping bag as she headed to the pickup, then looked up, and dropped the bag on her foot.

  The pickup was gone. Her suitcase was standing in its place.

  Mabel pushed a glass of water toward Diana as she wept in a booth in the back of Stickler’s. A middle-aged man in a blue shirt, black pants, and a combover stepped up and looked at Diana, then at Mabel. “Somebody left her here? Did… did they pay?”

  Mabel put her hand on her hip, and her features hardened. Her eyes blazed with fury, and she replied through tightly gritted teeth, “This poor girl has just been abandoned by her low-life father, and you’re worried about a little money? Well, Scott, for your information, yes, they did. That’s one less thing for you to worry about.”

  He raised his hands defensively. “Hey, just making sure, because, I, uh…” He looked at Diana, who leaned forward and cried into her folded arms, “I was going to settle up for her, uh, them, if not.”

  “Really.” Mabel put her other hand on the table top.

  “Yes, really. So, uh, what do we do now? Do we know where he’s headed? Is there family we can call, or…”

  Mabel slapped her hand on the table. “You really are next to useless, aren’t you? Go check the glassware for streaks. Or maybe,” her voice rose several decibels, “you could call the police.”

  Scott backed away, wiping his forehead. “Oh… okay. Got it. Good thinking. I was just going to suggest that we…”

  Mabel smacked the table again and jutted her chin forward. Scott turned around and hurried toward the hostess stand. “Lisa… call the police.”

  Mabel sat beside Diana and put her arm around her. “It’s okay, hon. I’ll sit with you. Drink some water.”

  Diana’s shoulders shook as she sobbed, then she lifted her head up with a sniff, and sipped from her glass. She wiped her eyes with her knuckles and nodded her appreciation to Mabel, who patted her back. “You deserve better, sweetie. The good Lord is looking out for you, I can feel it. Maybe He sent me to be your guardian angel. I’m going to take care of you, and see you home safe, wherever that is.”

  Diana nodded and sniffled. “Thanks, M-Mabel.” She looked across the restaurant and saw Scott, the manager standing over a young brunette who spoke intently into an electronic device. She made eye contact with Diana and quickly turned away. At Mabel’s urging, Diana took another sip of water and dabbed at her eyes with a paper napkin.

  A short time later, a county vehicle pulled up, and a deputy wearing a white hat got out of the car, back rail-straight, with the sun bouncing off a large pair of aviator sunglasses. He clutched his belt with both hands and walked slowly into the restaurant. Scott held the door for the deputy, who didn’t break his stride or let go of his belt buckle. He looked over at Diana and gave a faint nod. He walked steadily toward her in cowboy boots and gave a curt nod to Mabel, who smiled back for an instant, before hardening her features once more.

  The deputy slid into the booth across from Diana and tipped his hat. “Morning, folks. What seems to be the problem, here?”

  Mabel patted Diana’s back and spoke. “This poor girl, well, I never seen anything like it, her father, he—”

  The deputy raised his hand and nodded at Diana. “Let me hear it from her. What’s your name, miss?”

  Diana looked up at Mabel, who smiled at her, giving her silent approval to answer. “Diana, sir.”

  “Uh-huh. Diana. Just Diana? You’re one-a those movie stars with one name?”

  Diana’s eyes darted around. She wasn’t sure how truthful to be, as her father insisted that the police would twist her words until they found a way to
consider her the prime suspect in whatever cold case they had lying around and do whatever it took to nail her to the wall, guilty as charged, if she was ever questioned by the police for any reason. She wanted the familiarity of her father, but he had abandoned her without warning, and she didn’t want to be lumped together with a man who had just shot a deputy hours earlier, in another state. For all she knew, all the police knew each other, and they were out looking for her father across the country.

  Her eyes landed on a wire rack that held a pair of glass and metal salt and pepper shakers, a ketchup bottle, and a bottle of hot sauce. A small placard read PEMBROOK RESTAURANT SUPPLY at the base of it, and she looked at the table as she said, “Pembrook.”

  The deputy chewed a piece of gum steadily, and stared at her, stone-faced. “Still one name. You wanna try that again, miss?”

  Diana gulped, then stiffened. She lifted her head and looked directly into his aviators. “My name is Diana Pembrook.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Eight months later, Diana bent over to pick up a plate containing crossed silverware and a crumpled paper napkin. She nodded and smiled to an elderly man in a winter coat with a red plaid shirt on underneath, and glanced at his wife, who sat primly across from him with her purse resting on her knees.

  “Can I interest either of you in dessert? Our apple pie is real tasty.”

  The man started to speak, but his wife waved him off. “Just the check, please.”

  Diana nodded and forced a smile. “Yes, ma’am.” She carried the plate to the kitchen and fished her open tickets out of her apron. Mabel brushed past her with four entrees balanced across her arms and didn’t break her stride.