The Diner
Hector steps out of the kitchen and crosses to the front window. Hector's eyes are brimming with tears as he surveys what little glass remains in the window frame. The aging proprietor heaves a great sigh and shakes his head.
"We had a good run, old girl! But, I believe it's time we let this place go," Hector says, sadness in his voice.
Glancing around, Hector sighs yet again. His eyes search the surrounding area for any sign of Paul Bunyan.
"Good bye, old friend," Hector laments. "Guess, you finally decided to move on. I'll miss you, buddy!"
Turning the sign in the window to say: Closed; Hector shuts off the lights within the diner. He peers back over one shoulder, and then opens the front door. He doesn't look back as he shuts it, locks it, and heads for the old jalopy parked out front.
Maybe, it's time to revisit the past, and rekindle a love that may not be too far gone.
-
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“Rise and shine...Ladies, gents, and spacemen!” Paul Bunyan yells at the top of his lungs.
Paul Bunyan boldly enters the farmhouse unbidden. The handle of a wide metal pot is gripped tightly in one large hand, and a glass pitcher of reddish liquid is held in the other. Placing the pitcher on the nearest flat surface, Paul uses a spoon to beat on the side of the metal pot.
“Come on, come on…Food’s getting cold!” Paul says loudly.
Crank, who was already awake and going over blueprints, climbs heavily to his feet. He shoots the large frontiersman a hateful glare. Which Paul Bunyan ignores.
Simone is slower to rise. She wonders if Paul is drunk again; pulling a stunt like this? She's certain that if it were not for his disguise, Crank’s mandibles would be clicking furiously with his anger.
Paul lowers the pot and reaches inside. He comes out with a steaming hot plate, and hands it to Simone. A toothy grin dances across Paul's sunburnt face.
“Believe it or not….I was up before the sun. Cooking up all these wonderful vittles. Wanted to make up for my somewhat unfriendly behavior at your picnic yesterday. These are just some of the supplies Jane left us on that last run. I was saving them for a special occasion. I already ate my breakfast. Thought you two might enjoy breakfast in bed. That's what old Hector used to call it. There's sausage, eggs, and a biscuit for the lady. Barely cooked steak and raw fruit for the spaceman. Too bad the garden isn't sprouting yet. Could have really used a tomato or two.”
Paul hands Crank a second plate, which was nestled under the first, from within the pot. An even wider grin transforms Paul Bunyan’s usually tired features.
“Eat up! Hope you both like it!” Paul exclaims proudly.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Simone studies Paul very closely, and notices a number of key things. He has brushed his hair, shaved, bathed, and is wearing an entirely new outfit. His drab attire has been replaced by clothes fitting of a gentleman. Tailored long coat, matching vest and pants, white undershirt, and a handkerchief stuffed in his front pocket. Paul sees Simone staring and offers an explanation.
“Gifts from the English gentleman. I figured it was a pity to let such good threads go to waste. Kind of flatters my figure. Don’t you think?” Paul inquires, turning so that his body is in full profile.
Crank watches as Simone studies Paul’s new attire. The admiration evident on her face causes a brief flash of jealousy. But then, he remembers Simone's words from the previous night. Oomans, in general, are a vain species; caring only for outward appearances. But Simone has pledged her life and soul to him; atop the desert dunes. She may admire Paul’s clothes. However, Crank is certain that the man underneath is another story altogether. Crank’s suspicion is confirmed when Simone shifts her attention back to her plate and begins to eat. She spears a sausage with her fork and nibbles at the crisp edge. Paul watches her eat with slitted eyes.
“Good?” he asks in a soft voice.
Simone nods, enjoying the savory smoked taste of the meat too much to risk dropping even a crumb by trying to speak. Paul turns his attention to Crank, who gnaws on a bite from his basically raw steak.
Paul Bunyan retrieves two glasses from inside the large metal pot. He pours Simone a glass of the reddish liquid, and then pours Crank a glass as well.
"Don't worry," Paul says. "No alcohol. Just some fruit juice I squeezed myself. Pretty good too. Although, I think it needed a bit more sugar. But we're nearly out. Drink up. There's plenty more."
Clapping both hands, Paul's smile widens impossibly further.
“This is great. Well, when you two are finished eating…There’s something interesting I wanna show you both. Join me outside in the square, okay?” Paul says.
Paul's bright smile does not diminish as he walks out of the farmhouse. Crank chews the meat in his mouth and glances over at Simone. His brow arches.
“Maybe clothes is not all the Englishman has been sharing with Paul Bunyan,” Crank states cryptically.
Simone laughs and playfully jabs Crank in his side with an elbow. Remembering their night upon the dunes, Simone can't help but be a little giddy herself. Things no longer seem as grim as they did days before.
“Ha. Wow. I am rubbing off on you. Eat your food, Crank!” Simone chides him playfully. “You’re going to make me choke. Besides, Paul said he has something to show us. We’d better hurry. He may have figured out some clue about this place.”
Crank pulls Simone to him, their foreheads touching. He gazes into her eyes, searching for something—anything—to hold on to. The love he feels radiating from her—that he sees in her eyes—is enough to break his heart into a million pieces. He trembles inside, at the thought of leaving her alone in this desolate place.
The rest of the night, he had entertained the idea. He had considered fleeing into the darkness--to seek a way back on his own. And if he found one, he would leave her a clue. He dares not take her back with him. She would surely be killed. Unless, he can convince the rogue hunters to spare her—in return for her complete silence, and his head. Somehow, he doubts that the hunters would be willing to negotiate. Simone senses something is wrong. She can almost hear the wheels turning in Crank’s mind.
“Crank? What are you thinking? What are you planning to do?” Simone asks.
“I was thinking of the future,” Crank informs her. “What we will do if…Or when…We get back.”
Simone caresses his face and plants a quick kiss on his mouth. The taste of burned meats is strong on her lips and Crank finds that he is no longer as averse as he once was. He draws Simone in tighter before reluctantly releasing her.
“We’ll worry about that hurdle when we get to it,” Simone states. “For now...Let's eat. We’ve got other things to do first.”
Crank does as she says, taking another bite of his steak. Simone wraps one arm around him and leans into his chest, eating her food with the opposite hand. While neither of them says a word, there are enough thoughts bumping around in their heads to fill an entire newspaper.
Crank leans into Simone's embrace. Enfolding her with a muscular arm. Feeling Simone's body against his, takes an immense pressure off of Crank's mind. No matter what happens, no matter where they go, he will protect her at all costs. She would do the same for him.