I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.

I’m only twenty-four.

I just wanna write.

I’m sitting on the chest of some insane man, with the sun rising, warming my back. I clutch the baseball bat I grabbed from the men’s restroom wall in my left hand and try to think of what to tell the police.

Will I be in trouble?

I only tried to help.

I think I’m in trouble.

The cook is holding on as hard as possible to the friendly waitress as she sobs and wails. I’ve never seen someone who is so willing to wear their heart on their sleeve as this woman.

It’s admirable, really.

The cook is looking at me, his green eyes so intense, I start to feel like it’s hotter than the thick air outside. I don’t know what I did to make him angry. Did he wish he was the one that saved the waitress instead?

I jerk slightly as the police rush inside. Guns blazing, ready to shoot, when the fight is over. A man who I assume is the sheriff thanks to the badge on his chest sprints to the counter and lets out a shaky sigh of relief.

“Oh, Anna. Charlie. Oh goodness,” he says quietly. “Get out of ‘ere, it’s a murder scene.”

The cook, Charlie, takes Annabelle by the hand, and I’m stuck in place, hoping the robber doesn’t wake up. The sheriff glances down at me, and pieces together what happened from the baseball bat in my hand.

“You did good,” he said with stern approval.

He offers out his hand and I take it to get up. Quickly and firmly, the sheriff handcuffs the robber and then picks him up like a sack of potatoes. He pushes him up a bit higher and slumps him over his right shoulder.

I’m still stuck in place, and I don’t know what to do.

The sheriff turns to look back at me.

“Well, what are you doing? Come on!”

I follow him outside, greeted by the sunrise, greeted by stares of the state troopers, the truckers and construction workers, and the EMTs.

“It’s him,” Annabelle yells. “He did it!”

I knew I would be in trouble. I go cold expecting the sheriff to handcuff me next, but that’s not what happened.

The EMTs start slowly clapping and then the truckers, and soon everyone else joins in. It’s like a thunderstorm, starting with slow drops of water, and then it pours out, without warning.

Lightning strikes when Annabelle runs over to me and gives me a hug that feels like forever but somehow too short. Charlie again is giving me this odd look as I hug her, and I feel guilty by just standing next to her.

After the EMTs check if I’m okay and the sheriff locks up the robber in the back seat, he approaches me.

“Nice to meet you, young man. I’m Sheriff Grant. I’m also a pastor. I’d like to thank you by inviting you to church this Sunday.”

I’m not religious.

“I’ve never been to church,” I reply. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“That’s more of a reason for you to come!”

I can’t say no. He’s too kind.

Charlie comes on over while I’m talking with Sheriff Grant who has switched over to Pastor Grant.

“Hey. I’ve never seen you before. You from out of town,” Charlie asks.

“Yeah. I’m, I’m Nick. Nicholas Smith.”

“Huh. Ok. Do you want to come by the bar sometime later? I’ll buy you a beer.”

“I’m a margarita and tequila kind of guy,” I say with a laugh.

“Dang, okay, well we’ll have to get some fancy drinks for Mister Out-Of-Town over here.”

I’m not sure if he’s teasing me playfully or he’s serious after the stare-down he’s given me all day. I decided it was the first.

I get the phone number of Pastor Grant and Charlie before I drive home.

As I put the key into the lock of the door I swear under breath.

I forgot to get the waitress’ number.

----------------------------------------

I haven’t been to church in years but here I am.

I feel extremely underdressed when I enter the small white Civil-war Era building. I don’t have a tie, I couldn’t find my good pants since I’m still unpacking my things, and I’m sweating in my polo.

There is no AC and I think I am experiencing a taste of Hell on Earth inside a church.

People attempt to keep cool, in vain, with their cheap fans and bottled water. Women with interesting designs for hats make the pews look like a field of colorful flowers.

I didn’t know where to sit, so I took the seat closest to me and nervously looked around.

The pastor of the church, who is also somehow the sheriff takes the stage. He begins the sermon by talking about humility.

“Today we see the humblest man enter our congregation. Mr. Nicholas Smith here, saved Sister Annabelle and Brother Charles from the evil that made its way inside the diner.”

He walks down from the pulpit through the aisles and comes to give me a firm handshake. The entire church erupts into applause, and I think I’m getting even hotter from embarrassment.

He invited me to church to thank me for knocking out the robber, but I didn’t think he’d showcase me in front of the entire town. For the first time, people know my name, and this small taste of fame feels so good.

The most exciting part of the day was the picnic. After every sermon, there’s a giant picnic outside the church, with the best food I have ever had. While getting my second helping of cornbread, I’m approached by Annabelle.

“Oh my goodness it's you,” she shouts.

She points at me excitedly and rushes over, and I become even hotter when I see some of her cleavage peeking out from her green dress.

I try to think of a way to ask for her phone number but I don’t know when or how.

“Charlie, get over here,” she shouts. “Don’t be rude!”

Charlie stops his conversation with an old woman about something or other and rushes over when he sees me. In fact, he seems happier to see me than Annabelle.

I feel less embarrassed about being underdressed when I notice Charlie is wearing jeans.

“I don’t know how I could ever thank you for saving my life,” Annabelle says.

“It's okay,” I reply. “I just felt like someone had to do something. It's just what had to be done.”

I try to sound as tough as possible. I don't think I did it quite right.

“If you ever need anything just stop on by my farm,” Charlie adds. “My family says they want to meet the town hero.”

“Hero? I’m just a guy from Manhattan!”

“No you ain’t,” Annabelle says. “You saved me. You saved Charlie, and I don’t know what I would do without him.”

I’m disappointed now that I know she has a boyfriend. I guess I never had a chance, being an outsider, after all.

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“Here’s my phone number,” Annabelle says. "Let's stay in touch and I can show you around town some time!"

She gets out a purple pen from her purse, tears off a piece of paper from an old green and white pad, and writes down her number. I’ve never seen a hand move so fast in my life.

I carefully place the number in my pocket, trying not to get any of my sweat on it.

I wonder if Charlie is the jealous type because he has a slight frown on his face he’s trying to hide. He’s not doing it very well.

“Annabelle, it’s almost twelve. We gotta go,” Charlie says.

“Oh! I’m so sorry I have to be somewhere!”

I guess he is the jealous type after all.

She scurries off with Charlie to the parking lot, and the little old lady follows behind them.

A sudden gust of wind makes dandelion seeds fly off into the air in her direction.

They feel impossible to catch, just like her.