Part I
Chapter 1
At night we rode up to the old railroad tracks on the west side of town, turned the headlights off, and waited for the dead to appear. My cousin Nikki and I had seen the phantom lights of the old passenger trains maybe, just once when we were kids and sneaking out, but it was—and I believed this even at twelve—likely a trick of the light, our eyes bleary and tired. And still, whenever we went cruising, this was the place we ended up. Staring into the dark, wishing to be scared.
“Annie, why do we come out here?” Nikki said, her blond curls making a funny halo around her wide, sharp-boned face.
“Something besides doing donuts in the Walmart parking lot?” I squinted my eyes, but the only speck of light was from a cell tower past the interstate, miles ahead and outside of town. “You see anything?” I ran my fingers lightly up her arm like a spider and she swatted me.
“God, we’re so lame,” she said, and tugged on the tight-fitting halter top she’d decided to wear. Without checking the mirror, I knew I’d already smudged my new liquid eyeliner.
“We’re so lame? This was your idea,” I said, and turned the ignition. “We’re all dressed, might as well get a drink somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Mixer’s.” Headlights on, a cloud of dust swirled in the beams. A tremor of fear—was something circling our car in the dark?—but branches swayed in the trees and I realized it was just the wind picking up. We bounced in our seats as I drove over the rickety tracks.
“And just you and me sit on barstools with all the sad folk? Come on, you know you can’t go in there before midnight. Besides, I’m starving. Let’s go by the café for a bit. That’ll give my sources time. Got to be something happening. It’s Thursday. Practically the weekend,” Nikki said, and checked her phone again, sent a few texts, and I drove down the empty farm-to-market road, elbow out the open window. The night air was just cool enough to tickle my skin. The wind was all it was. Just coming a storm.
“I like Mixer’s. They have a band,” I said. I knew it was lame, but old dives like those had no pretenses of being anything but dives. I was burned on college bars and frat boys. “Sure, the band is usually the Donaldson kid, who may or may not be out on parole—hey, you sure you want to eat at the café? There’s usually snacks at the bar.”
“It’s nine. Everywhere else is closed. And no, I don’t want to eat stale popcorn everyone’s dug their dirty paws in.”
“Fair enough,” I said, and turned right toward town.
* * *
Victoria yawned and pulled a pencil from her apron pocket. After a moment she started tapping it on the linoleum counter. “Y’all look nice.”
“Thanks,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. My thighs stuck to the leather stool, and it felt weird, her waiting on me. “You’re on again in the morning, aren’t you? I’m on at six.”
“Shit, am I?” She looked behind her to the swinging door that led to the kitchen. “You know I don’t check the schedule till I’m leaving. Which is soon. I do know that much.”
“Chicken fingers,” Nikki finally said, looking up from her phone. “Please.”
“You eating, Annie?”
I shook my head and Victoria went to the kitchen. Nikki sat her phone on the counter and looked at me. “What’s your deal?”
“That I basically live here,” I said, and checked the wall clock, my new force of habit since going full-time. Waiting tables wasn’t exactly how I’d envisioned using my degree. I’d say moving back to Garnett wasn’t the plan either, but that would indicate I had one. College graduation four months in the rearview—a private school I’d gone on scholarship to, at that—you’d think the future would feel wide open with infinite choices, but I was circling, waiting for what else I wasn’t sure.
“Those LSAT books under your bed might be lonely. No pressure.”
“Trying to start a fight with me isn’t unlike you, but damn.”
“Oh, come on. I can’t have you move again. You’d leave me high and dry,” she said, and looked around the empty café, taking a plastic flask from my purse and dribbling the last of our whiskey into her Dr Pepper. She loved knowing where my goat was tied.
Victoria came through the swinging doors hip first with the plate. “Fernando just took these out of the fryer, so careful. Said to tell you go home already, Annie.”
Nikki’s phone vibrated on the countertop. “Hey, Momma,” she answered, resting the phone between her shoulder and ear. With her other hand she shook a glass ketchup bottle, but instead of her plate, the ketchup shot onto her baby blue top. Victoria and I both reached for napkins, but Nikki took off toward the bathroom, cussing, then apologizing to my aunt.
I leaned my head back and stared up at the high pressed-tin ceiling. A rotating fan was mounted in the corner, but it barely made a dent in the cloud of cooking grease and batter smell that hung in the air. Victoria propped her elbows on the counter and stuck her tongue out at me. The last part of this shift was always either really busy or really quiet, depending on if there was a home game. I wasn’t sure which I preferred. At least when it was busy the time went by and before you knew it Dot, the overnight waitress, was at the door tying her apron on. Victoria looked tired—pretty, but tired. Her black-brown eyes were glassy, shadowed underneath, but it somehow softened her face, made her doe-eyed instead of drawn. She was my age, twenty-two.
“Vic, want to hear a ghost story?”
“No.”
“Fine.” I laughed. “Hey, what did—or what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Annie always with the questions.”
“Come on.” I smiled.
“Sounds stupid, but I always thought I’d be an actress. Like, even into high school. Now I don’t even know. Something that pays decent. And one day I’d like to have horses.…” She paused like she’d say more but rolled her shoulders and ducked into the back, returning with a slab of cobbler and two forks. “Here. On the house.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Swear to God they didn’t touch it!” She had a loud laugh that caught you off guard, but before you knew it you were laughing too. “I literally just took it to this couple when they had to leave. You need something on your stomach,” she said, and sat in Nikki’s place.
“Trusting your judgment,” I said, and took a bite. The owner, Marlene, made all the desserts from scratch. She was known for her pecan pie, but in late summer the special usually involved freestone peaches from the hill country. The cobbler was sweet and a little tart and cinnamon dusted the golden lattice top. I savored the taste, knowing it was probably the last of the season.
Victoria leaned forward with both hands cupping her chin, emphasizing the heart shape of her face. “Slow night. Even my favorite regular stood me up.”
“Playing favorites now?”
“This one’s cute. I think he’s a professor or something. Bet you’d try and steal him from me.”
“Doubt it,” I said. She was the flirt who got good tips, not me. “You still haven’t shown me your ways out in the wild. What’re you up to later?”
She grinned and set her fork down. “There’s this place I’ve been meaning to tell you about. You’d get a kick out of the music—”
“All right,” Nikki said, coming up behind me. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Everything okay?” I spun around on the stool to face her. The ketchup stain looked worse—half her shirt was wet and the cheap fabric pilled where she’d been rubbing it.
“Oh, yeah, Momma was just nagging me about Sunday. But I found us a party. Bonfire west of town. We need to run home so I can change,” Nikki said, bouncing on her heels. She looked down at Victoria in her seat, and then to her plate. “Hey, uh, can I get a doggy bag?”
The tops of Victoria’s cheekbones flushed as she stood and walked back behind the register.
“This will be fun,” Nikki said, and reached for her wallet. “Everyone’s going.”
Finally, a destination. Someplace to arrow toward with all our pent-upness. “Vic,” I said, and pointed up at the clock. “Want to come with? It’s nearly time.”
“No, no,” she said, and busied herself with a Styrofoam container. “And I’ll be waiting here until either Dot shows or a handsome stranger comes to steal me away, whichever happens first.”
“Hey, you never know,” I said, already inching toward the door. “Wait, what’s the place you were talking about? With music?”
“Maybe some other time,” Victoria said, and handed Nikki her change. “You two be safe driving around at night.”
Yellow light bled onto the pavement as we shoved through the door. There was always that exhilaration when I left the café, working or not, and I wondered if that was a kind of sign. Main Street was empty. Dark but for the water tower’s blue glow, still but for the flags flown above the courthouse snapping in the wind. Back then, nights were never-ending—expansive or oppressive, depending on my mood—but always had a certain quiet to them. Foolishly, I thought nothing ever really changed. I followed fast behind Nikki, car keys pressed in my palm, but stole one last look behind me. Victoria stood at the café window with her arms crossed over her chest. I waved good-bye to her, forgetting that from inside you can’t see past the glass. That at night, only the darkness peered back.
Copyright © 2022 by Samantha Jayne Allen
