Alice's Diner

At this time of the night, just a few hours before the strike of midnight, few people found themselves in the patronage of Alice’s Diner. The giant, red, white, and green twenty-four-hour sign stood out like a lighthouse for the land. Predictably, it attracted all kinds of wandering souls at this time of the hour, mostly truckers and travellers finding themselves in need of fuel for themselves and their laboured machines. Better to stay over a while, and rest until dawn. It was quiet, it was cosy, and it was homely. It wasn’t a fancy establishment; it was a little run down. The paint was peeling here and there, and the countertops lost their sheen to plates, cups, cutlery, and jacket hardware over the years. But it was clean and tidy, and they made the kind of coffee and a stack of flapjacks that the soul yearned for at the crack of dawn.

Alice’s was a little out of town, even for Keith who lived a couple of miles in the other direction. But short of stopping at a local McDonald’s, it’s hard to find somewhere open all day and all night. He’s been a regular for about a year now. The entire family knew what his regular order was, or what they thought his regular was, on account of their working different shifts. Alice had brought him over a slice of apple pie and a pot of black coffee- an institution as old as time. He could spend hours here, and often did.

It was a peculiar serenity to find in times like these. A holdover from a different era. It was a time capsule. Keith usually stared out the window, partially to zone-out, and partially to watch his bike in the parking lot. People sometimes liked to pose with it, which was fine as long as they didn’t decide to sit on it. Seemingly out of nowhere, a very well-kept Toyota 4Runner from the 90s pulled into the parking lot, and a young woman hopped out of the driver’s seat. She looked amusingly small standing next to the massive car, with its tall roofline made even taller by a lifted suspension, the latter detail surprised him.

She hadn’t come with anyone either. She locked the car behind her and began to slowly make her way to the diner. She stopped briefly to squat low next to his bike and, what he assumed, was take a picture of it with her phone. The peculiarity of the event piqued his interest, and he watched her surreptitiously as she entered the building.

She’d she clutched what appeared to be a few magazines and a notebook precariously in her hand. “Hi there,” She smiled at Alice, though the weariness in her voice and her posture could not be hidden.

“Hi there, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything.”

The woman thanked her and practically fell into the booth seat opposite Keith. Alice frowned. She was concerned for the woman, mother that she was. The tired woman spread out the magazines in front of her and began to read them intently, with a pen and notebook in hand. Normally, Keith would mind his own, but he couldn’t help having his attention drawn to her following her arrival. In between sips of his coffee, he noticed that the lady was growing increasingly frustrated with something, taking notes and pushing her fingers through her straw-coloured hair. She looked about his age, maybe a little younger. Eventually, she stopped writing or reading anything at all, and stared into the alabaster-white table blankly, head in her hands. He looked over to Alice, who seemed to share his concern. They made eye contact and had a wordless conversation.

“What do you think?” Alice furrowed her brow.

“No idea,” Keith shrugged and tilted his head.

“I’m worried about her,” She pouted. Keith breathed in deeply and let out a long sigh. He circled his little meal with his finger. Alice nodded and started to work behind the counter. After a few minutes, Alice brought out a replica of his regular meal and placed it in front of the tired lady. She snapped out of her trance and shook her head slightly as if to reorganize her thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t order anything,” said the woman.

“Compliments of the gentleman,” Alice beamed. People say Alice’s smile could chase clouds out of the sky. The straw-haired woman looked over at Keith, slightly wide-eyed from processing all the new information.

“Thanks,” She smiled weakly.

“No problem.” He nodded. She moved over some of her various papers and placed the small plate of apple pie in front of her. Her fork was in her hand, but she wasn’t eating. Simply staring at it, poking, and prodding at it. He looked at Alice again. She didn’t look very happy. She was asking him to do something. “God dammit, Alice,” he sighed. He picked up his plate and his coffee and moved on over to the straw-haired woman’s booth seat.

“Hi. My name’s Keith. Do you mind if I gave you some company?” He asked. The woman looked up at him, with the same wide-eyed expression she’d given Alice. Her brow furrowed and relaxed again, it seemed she was having difficulty making up her mind.

“Sure. Why not,” she said eventually, “Name’s Megan.” She offered a hand to shake, and he looked at it awkwardly while holding a plate in one hand and his coffee in the other. Embarrassed, she waited until he sat down again until offering it again, which he happily received. He gave her a moment to see if she was going to say anything.

“Ahem. If you don’t mind me saying, Megan, you look somewhat out of sorts. Is there anything I can help you with?” Keith piped up.

“Uh, no. Maybe? How well do you know trucks?” she stammered.

“I know a bit. Big Red giving you problems?” he said, gesturing out the window.

“Big Red?” She asked, perplexed. She looked out the window to her big red SUV in the parking lot. “I’ve lived in that truck for six weeks now. I never thought of giving it a name,” she muttered, finally taking a large gulp out of the hot coffee. The surprise of the statement had interrupted Keith’s social rhythm. He looked over at the magazines she had brought in. They were repair manuals. Her notebook was covered in notes detailing her haphazard thoughts in beautiful handwriting. She continued, “No, she’s fine,” she said flatly. “She’s fine?” she whispered to herself, scrunching her nose as she did.

“Well, apologies for assuming anything. You just look looked like you could use some help,” He explained. Megan’s pale blue eyes found his dark brown eyes. She was tired. Not just physically and mentally, but emotionally exhausted. The bags hung low, carrying some load Big Red couldn’t hold. Alice placed a pot of hot coffee on the table, and he thanked her.

“No, no, don’t apologize. I’m sorry if I’m being weird. I’ve got insomnia. Maybe you can help me figure out a couple things?” she said.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear it, that’s a nasty one. Sure, let me have a look” he replied.

Trucks weren’t really Keith’s domain, but he knew enough about engines to help her piece together what she needed to know over the next half-hour. She was sharp, witty, and quite good-humoured as well, but her tiredness was getting the better of her. She was keen to learn, but she was trying desperately to keep together what information she could. After a while, she had tap out.

“Thank you so much, you’ve been patient with me, but I don’t think I can do this tonight.” She sighed, and rested her eyes. “The insomnia isn’t usually this bad, kind of an every-now-and-then kind of thing. But, for the past four or five days I feel like I haven’t been sleeping at all,”

“Have you tried weed?” He grinned, half-serious.

“You offering?” She rested her head on her hand, humouring him.

“No, unfortunately,” Keith chuckled, pointing out to his motorcycle outside. “Not a good idea to ride high,”

“Oh, that’s yours?” She said. “I took a pic. Wanna see?” She pulled out her phone. It was a surprisingly well-shot, low-angle, vanity picture of his bike.

“That is a great shot, wow,” He praised, impressed with the quality of the picture.

“Aren’t the colours just great? The red and blue on it go well with the Exxon station just behind it. I just had to.”

“All my time coming here, and I don’t know how I didn’t see it. You a photographer?” He leaned in.

“No, I just have an eye for it, I think. Do you have Instagram, Tik Tok? I’ll send it to you,”

“Nah, I’m not really on social media,” he waved a hand.

“Oh, okay. Can I post it?”

“Sure. go ahead,” he said. She fiddled around with her phone for a little while, presumably to upload the picture. The little interaction opened her up a little bit more, and her personality flickered back into view. That initial statement still bothered Keith, however. He just had to pull on that thread. “How long have you been on the road, Meg?”

“About six weeks,” she stated.

“Since you got the truck?”

“To the day,”

“Well. That sounds like a story to me, Megan,” He leaned back into the booth and chewed on a piece of apple pie. “I’m willing to listen if you’re willing to tell it,”

“That’s my grandpa’s old 4Runner out in the lot. What did you call her, Big Red?” She began.

“Yeah,” Keith replied.

“Well, grandpa’s not around anymore. Passed on two months ago. No, it’s fine, don’t worry, it’s in the past. I’ve mourned. He didn’t tell us what to do with the old 4Runner, so grandma just gave it to me. She remembered how grandpa used to put me on his lap as a kid and let me hold the wheel while he drove around.”

“So, why’d you get on the road?” Keith asked while she paused for a sip of coffee. She took a while to contemplate the question. Keith let her take her time. She stared out the window for a while.

“I have no clue what I’m doing, Keith,” She murmured. Her soul reached out to the darkness outside as if to pull an answer out from the ether, an answer she could find in the dark depths of herself.

“Well, where are you headed?” He asked. Another pause.

“I don’t know, Keith,” She answered. He thought he could see her eyes get glassy.

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, how are you affording all of this? Gas ain’t cheap, and that ain’t no Prius,”

“Money’s not an issue,” she sniffed, giving him a cheeky grin and a wink. “I made some good decisions, and they panned out well for me,”

“Well, sounds like you’ve got yourself sorted out.” He grinned, “Congratulations,”

“Something like that,” she said, resting her chin on her hand. Through her tired and weary expression, he could see refined features. Straight, pearly teeth, manicured nails, and long, well-maintained hair, and they were all only just starting to get untidy. “Money was never an issue for me.” She sighed. “I know, right? Poor rich girl, feeling depressed and lonely. Do you know how frustrating it is, to have everything you could ever ask for, and still feel so empty?” She shovelled another forkful of apple pie.

“Can’t say that I do, Meg,” he said after some time.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m being dumb, I know,”

“That’s not what I mean,” he leaned back, “I don’t come from much, Meg. Far from the worst, but nowhere near the best. I came to these parts five years ago. I was riding an old Suzuki at the time. I bought it from a teenage boy who thought he could Travis Pastrana his way into the YouTube Trending page, or whatever. The thing was bashed up pretty bad, and I rode it into town with all my possessions in the saddle bags and a backpack. I asked for work. I don’t have much in the way of education, but a tractor shop took me in. That’s where I’ve been. That looks like as far as I’ll go.”

“I see,” she pondered. She poured them another cup of coffee from the coffee pot. “So, why’d you hit the road?” He took a long sip and stared out the window. It was his turn to share something personal. He felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t remember the last time he told someone the story. But after thinking about how he could help this woman, this stranger, he mustered up the courage to talk about it. He slowly took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to show her his forearms- decorated with long scars, and dotted with needle marks.

“I wanted to die, Meg. I didn’t know it then. But I understood eventually,”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” She stammered, her eyes widening.

“No, it’s okay. Have a look. I’m proud of them. They’re like a roadmap of a narrowly averted disaster,” He assured. “I travelled for a long time, before finally landing up here. This place doesn’t offer much to those looking for more. But it gave me a chance to…reboot myself,” He began. “Far away from what made me that way. I could build new habits. I could be different here,” She ran her cold fingertips across his forearm, mind clearly on autopilot, transfixed by the constellation of scars. “I haven’t seen my mama since I left, at least not in person. Don’t know when I will. But I did manage to get my life back on track,”

“Well, I’ve got scars no man can see.” Meg croaked; a solitary tear traced her nose. “I-I’m not ready to talk about it- not yet.” She put her hands back to her sides and stared into the black coffee.

“You might never have to. You don’t need to,” He tried to comfort. She continued staring into her black coffee.

“You’re being nice to me. Why?” she asked.

“Well, I saw a distressed woman about my age, why would I be nasty?” He explained.

“Well, that’s certainly foreign to me.” She scoffed. “I mean people were nice to me. I suppose they still are nice to me. But I can’t trust them. Because they don’t like me. Typical rich people story right? Well, I trusted the wrong people, and they-” she choked on her words for a moment. “You know what I’m scared of, Keith? I’m scared that I’ll die alone. I’m scared that the people standing around my coffin in the ground will be doing it because it would be inconvenient for them not to. I’m scared of what they’ll say when they’re sure that I can’t hear them under six feet of dirt.” She excused herself for a moment, and he offered her a napkin to blow her nose. She accepted it gladly. “I have scars no man can see, Keith. But someone sure as hell put them there. And I didn’t have a single person to turn to,”

“I’m sorry, Megan.” He said, as sincerely as he possibly could. She nodded her head in acknowledgement.

The conversation picked up in waves after she opened up. A little bit of talking, a little bit of silence. Keith worried that he may have made the situation worse. “I like this place. This diner,” she chimed. “The music here reminds me of my grandpa, he used to love this stuff.”

“Yeah, Alice’s kids taught her and her husband, Ray, how to make a Spotify playlist, and they immediately filled it with all the hippie folk from the 70s.”

“That’s sweet. Does she own the place?”

“Yep. But if you’re interested, I can tell you a little history,” He leaned on the tabletop.

“Sure, I need something to help me sleep anyway. Though I guess the coffee hardly helped,” She shrugged, and also leaned in.

“So, Alice’s mother was named Alison. She opened the place in the eighties with her husband Elias. When she passed on, she passed it over to Alice. Now, Alice’s kids, Allan and Elise are the next in line to run the shop,”

“Alison, Elias, Alice, Allan, and Elise?” She giggled. “What about Ray?”

“Well, you need some raisins in the trail mix, don’t you?”

“Ew, no, I hate raisins!”

“So do I, but you know what I mean,” He chuckled.

“That’s…just, wow,”

“Also, Elias was Alison’s half-cousin.” He added. Her eyes widened, and he shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “Small-town shit, man. Thankfully that gene didn’t get passed down. Elise managed to get cuffed to someone from out of town,”

“What’s his name?” she suppressed a smile.

“Albert,” he said, as earnestly as he could. As he expected, she held her hand over her mouth and suppressed her quiet laughter. Alice looked over at him, and gave him a thumbs up, which he returned. This seemed to make Megan laugh a little harder.

“You’re kidding right?” she asked after she recovered.

“Yeah,” He admitted. It was a white lie, but it had the intended effect. “His name’s Howard,”

“Howard? Who the hell is named Howard? Is he old, like a sugar daddy?” She whispered through a broad smile.

“He’s like, two years older. He runs a gas station in the next town over,” He whispered back.

“Well, good for Elise. Just gotta worry about Allan,” She leaned back in her chair. They sat in silence for a little while longer. Their meals completed; their plates empty. The truckers who were there had returned to their steeds. As there was no motel nearby, they’d have to sleep in the cab tonight. It was just the three of them now. Alice won’t go to bed until Elise and Allan arrive to take over in the morning.

“Keith, how do you know if you can trust someone?” She asked after a long lull in the conversation.

“What do you mean?” He asked for clarity.

“I had to burn a lot of bridges before I left. They went down surprisingly fast.” She elaborated.

“Well, that’s tricky. I met my fair share of bad apples in my life. Thought they were friends too. We spent a lot of time together. We had lows, and oh did we have highs. They smiled when I walked in the room, and they were sad when I left.”

“What changed?”

“Me. I had a come to Jesus moment, pretty much literally. My friends were happy that I wanted to turn my life around, at the start. That was before I started to grow distant. See they liked me where I was. I think it validated their own habits. But when I turned the corner, I didn’t see them anywhere. But mama never left.”

“Well, go on then!” She urged him on. Keith smiled.

“My point is, there are people who you can be friends with, and people you can depend on. If you’re lucky you can have both. But the only ones you can trust, are the ones who not only want to see you on the podium but will walk with you to get there. And who will help you get on your feet when inevitably trip up,” He finally answered.

“Hm,” She ruminated. She didn’t seem to have an answer. But the three of them were happy to be in each other’s company, listening to old folk music about peace, love, and drugs. They were deep in the night now. The bright white Exxon lights glowed bright like a North Star in the middle of nowhere. He enjoyed the quiet of it. Not that this part of the world has much going on, but it’s visually quiet too. You only hear what you need to hear. You only see what you need to see.

He took a long drag out of her menthol cigarette and passed it back to her. She was sitting on the hood of Big Red, and he was leaning on the front. Together they stared back into Alice’s. They didn’t know how much time they were going to spend looking at the diner, but she had half a pack of these cigarettes, and they were mighty tasty at the moment.

“Where do they live?” She exhaled the smoke. “I don’t see a house nearby,”

“Well Alice and Ray live in Belltower Apartments, ’bout a half-mile that way, by the railroad tracks. Kids live in my neighbourhood, actually,”

“You live far from here?”

“Hours ride up the mountain pass. Or twenty minutes if you take the highway,” he pointed out the two roads,”

“Bet you can get here in ten if you take that thing,” she said, passing the cigarette over, and gesturing to the motorcycle.

“I probably could,” he chuckled, “But I don’t take the highway,” He passed the cigarette back.

“Why not?”

“Huckin’ yourself a buck-eighty on an empty highway is exhilarating, but sometimes it’s good to get into the rhythm of something. When I’m on the pass it feels like I’m dancing, it’s intoxicating. You into bikes?”

“No, we lost my cousin to a bike accident.”

“Oh, that’s nasty, sorry about that. Lost my dad that way, too.”

“And your mom still let you ride that thing?”

“It was either I die to the road or to the needle. She decided the former looked better in the obituary.” He said flatly. She pulled out an unlit cig.

“Christ, that’s dark,”

“Sorry, just how I think. She didn’t actually say that.” He smiled, plucked the cigarette hanging loosely out of her mouth and lit it. He took a deep drag in, and breathed out slowly, closing his eyes. When he opened them again he looked at it in his hand.

“Cancer sticks.” He smiled and shook his head. “We all do stuff that’s gonna get us killed one day.” He passed the cigarette over to her.

“Feels like you can’t go to the store nowadays without worrying if the person standing next to you is about to go psycho.” She thought aloud.

“Well, that’s different. You can’t control that. Not directly anyhow. But you can choose to quit smoking. I can choose to ride safely. But I don’t think either of us is gonna do that.”

“You never know. One of us can grow some sense one day.”

“And do what with it?” He asked. “Nothing makes sense. Or at least there’s too much going on I can’t make sense of it. I feel like I haven’t seen or heard an original thought in years. I think I even pulled that from a movie or something, fuck sakes,” He scoffed.

“Learn how to Think out of the Box with These Simple Steps!” She jested.

“Something like that, yeah,” He chuckled.

“So, you hate Influencers?” She raised an eyebrow teasingly.

“Far be it from me to put anyone down for making a living. Just something about selling your personality. Feels odd.”

“People have been doing that for years.” She countered.

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s true. Doesn’t feel the same though.”

“I suppose because they sell you a life that looks attainable and easy but isn’t. I suppose me and Big Red are guilty of that, aren’t we, big gal?” She patted the Toyota on the hood.

“You’re not guilty of anything. I’m sure hundreds of people want to do exactly what you do,” He reasoned. He took a drag from her cigarette. They looked up at the stars together.

“Stars are beautiful out here,” She observed.

“Yeah. No pollution. No streetlights, or skyscrapers.” He agreed.

“Isn’t it crazy that we’re just seeing what they looked like millions of years ago? This moment is now, but theirs is so far away. And here I am looking at it. A grain of sand in the desert,” She mused.

“Well, that’s profound for an influencer,”

“I know, I surprise myself sometimes,” She smiled. “I suppose there isn’t much to think about. Not for me anyway. Maybe the past is only useful for looking at and learning from. That the scattered images and snapshots of memories and regrets aren’t my here and now. They are a part of me, but they don’t define me,”

“Or where you’re going. The road is open, Megan. The horizon offers yet new possibilities with every mile under the wheels. I hope you take them,” He dragged from the cigarette and handed it back to her.

“Very insightful, for a tractor mechanic,” she jeered. They spent the rest of this cigarette and the next in silence, just looking up at the stars. Simple tranquillity, the chirp-chirp of crickets, and a gentle breeze lazily pushed their thin puffs of smoke somewhere else. The air was fresh and crisp, and the dew on Big Red’s hood was cold and refreshing to the touch. Funny how the desert offers what little it has when no one is looking. Megan stretched and let out a big, long-drawn yawn. “I think that’s a sign,” she said.

“I should head out,”

“What time is it?” She gasped.

“Don’t worry about it. Glad you chose a weekend.” He assured.

“You think it’s safe to sleep in the truck?”

“You can ask Alice if you can sleep in the diner. She’s got a shotgun under the counter and the wrath of God in her heart, you’ll be safe. Plus, the truckers love her,”

“Alright. I’ll do that,” She chortled. She slid jumped off the hood of the car, and he put out what remained of the cigarette. “Hey, thanks,” She started. “I don’t remember the last time I spoke to someone. Like really had a conversation. I think I was losing it a little bit. Feel a little less shit now.”

“Gimme your phone.” He held out a hand. She hesitated momentarily before handing it to him. He punched in his number and saved his name under her contacts. “Call me when you need to talk. And only call me. Not because I don’t text, but because I think that might be more useful for you.”

“Oh. Thanks. I’ll do that” She blushed.

“You gonna be around town for a while?”

“No, I’m gonna head out tomorrow, hopefully. Not sure what time. The road calls. Gotta look for those opportunities you mentioned,” She grinned, somewhat sadly. They looked each other in the eye and had a wordless conversation. They seemed to understand what the other was saying.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Megan. I hope everything works out for you. You’re a good person. Just a little lost,”

“You too, Keith,”

“Goodnight, and take care of yourself,” as he was putting his helmet back on, he suddenly felt arms around him. After recovering from the surprise, he returned her embrace. They didn’t know for how long they were like that. It felt like quite a while, but somehow still didn’t feel like nearly long enough. Dawn drew closer, and this moment too would become a memory, a star in the sky, to be looked at again, and again, and again. Before they fully parted, she put her hands on either side of his helmet and kissed just above his visor.

“Ride safe, okay? I don’t want the next time I see you to be a statistic,” She looked solemnly into his eyes.

“Okay, Meg,” they separated.

“Take it easy, Keith. Hope you get what’s coming to you,”

“Hah! Thank you, Meg.” He beamed, not that she could see.

She watched him as he walked back to the red and blue motorcycle. He threw a leg over, and the engine roared into life, a knife tearing through the thin fabric of silence. He waved to her as he wheeled over to the main road. She waved her final goodbye and walked back into Alice’s to ask if she could further extend her hospitality. Alice wouldn’t say no. And she didn’t. He looked left and looked right. Nobody was going to be there, but safety first and all that. He rolled onto the throttle and turned onto the road, and as he grew further away and rode toward the mountain pass, he laid further into it.

“I wish he wouldn’t do that,” scolded Alice.

“He’s hurtled through the dark before. He knows what he’s doing,” said Megan.

“And what about you, dearie?”

“What about me, Alice?”

“When are you going to climb out of that little hole of yours?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t wait for someone to give you a shovel or a ladder. The longer you spend down there, the cosier it’s gonna feel, and one day you’re gonna forget what the sun looks like.”

“Yeah, Alice. I know.” She sighed. Alice placed a hand in her hand and squeezed.

“It’s not easy. But you’ve already started. I know you can finish it. You’re gonna be alright, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Alice.” She smiled. She didn’t know what it was about Alice, but Megan had heard words of encouragement and affirmation from so many people before, but that one sentence meant more to her than all of the others.

Alice’s Diner, located next to the Exxon station, is half a mile from the Belltower Apartments. Its giant neon sign stood out like a lighthouse for travellers and truckers alike. Open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Megan would have to miss watching the lights go out as the sun rose. She finally managed to rest her weary soul for the first time in days. She would need it for the journey ahead. She was scared, and she was lonely, but suddenly those didn’t feel like those were bad things anymore. Just part of the process. She’ll figure it out. Somehow.