Into Looking Glass III

Posted by Barry Hurd in The Looking Glass

Into the Looking Glass-

The Introduction of Jaquin Sadler- Finding the Path

It was one of those moments of desperation as all of my thoughts focused on the noise of my car engine slowly grinding away. I had been driving at a snails pace for fifteen miles across the desert highway before I reached a little greasy diner surrounded by tumble-weeds and flat sand. My only comfort was that for a few seconds god had graced me with an evening sunset that blazed across the sky, giving me a little hope that someone was keeping an eye on me.

My car crept into the dusty gravel parking lot and gave one last shudder as the engine shut off… for what I imagined would be the last time. I put my forehead against the wheel and sighed in both relief and exhaustion, glad that I hadn’t been left stranded in the middle of the desert all by myself.

Now that I could hear myself think again, the ironic sound of the radio playing Hotel California made me laugh under my breath. This was technically California, and I guess this diner was going to be my hotel for this evening.

I grabbed my bag from the backseat and gathered my stuff. I had been slightly insane to walk out of my wedding earlier today, yet I didn’t feel a bit wrong about it. For some strange reason it just felt like a big relief for my soul, and it seemed like exactly what I was supposed to do.

I left the keys in the car. The beat up thing wasn’t worth fixing and it definitely wasn’t going anywhere. I turned my phone on for a moment to check reception before I realized that I was in the middle of no where. The battery on the phone was dead and it wouldn’t even turn on. I guess that I shouldn’t have talked to my friends for so long as I was driving out here. It took twenty-eight years of living to become such a wise lady.

Without thinking anymore, I strolled over to the dirty glass door and walked into the diner. It was a cute old place that had been sucked right from the sixties. Bar stools covered with red leather seats, an old-fashioned chrome soda machine on the counter, and a somewhat plump waitress casually sipping on her cup of coffee as she glanced over her dark rimmed glasses.

The waitress gestured down the isles and comically smiled at an older gentleman wearing some muddy coveralls at the end booth. “My name is Ang. Sweety, take anywhere you like. Just don’t talk to Tommy unless you want to chat your life away.”

I sat down at the bar. I didn’t feel like chatting, even though Tommy looked like a sweet old guy. He had his checkered ball-cap on and was feverishly circling letters on a cross-word puzzle.

I flipped open a menu and found exactly what I expected. Everything on the menu was from the sixties too. Giant steak fries, juicy hamburgers, and plenty of things that were probably going to kill me slowly.

I told Ang to throw a burger and fries on for me. It had been a long time since I had a chance to have a burger… all the training my coach always had me doing was a guaranteed way of keeping off the pounds, and a sure-fire way of making sure I never tasted anything labelled “fatty.”

The walls had dozens of great old photos on them, everything from high school sweethearts to racing teams who had stopped here for a bite to eat. I always imagined that people back then had simpler and less confusing lives to live. I wish that life was black and white, with simple defining moments like all of the pictures hanging on the wall had.

Ang took up a seat next to me and poured me a cup of coffee. She laughed under her breath as she told me she knew I wasn’t a coffee drinker. I didn’t argue, but I still took a small sip of the dark bitter blend. I needed something different in my life right now; and up until now the basic tastes in my life just didn’t seem to be working.

I paused for a moment and then took another sip, this time it was long and slow. I let the coffee sit on my tongue and I breathed in the aroma deeply. I set the mug back onto the counter and that my dad would be strangely proud of me for doing what I felt was right.

Thinking back to earlier today, I couldn’t help shake the feeling he had been watching me from above. I really wished he had been there to walk me down the isle. I missed my dad. I should have been over it by now, it had been almost three years, but I still really wanted him to be there.

Ang could tell I was lost in thought. She patted me on the shoulder as she glided around the counter and grabbed my plate of food from a short, old cook who could barely glance over the kitchen divider.

She set it down in front of me and asked if there was anything else she could get me.

I said no.

The burger smelled good; as if I hadn’t eaten for days. Then I realized the truth of the matter was that I hadn’t really eaten anything for days trying to squeeze myself into my wedding dress. All that effort and planning for nothing…

I took one bite into the burger and it was wonderful. The flavor was rich and everything was just right. I went to take a second bite and felt something moving in my pocket. I fumbled around in my pants until I pulled out my phone as it quietly vibrated in my hands. I thought it was dead.

I flipped it open and clicked on the button telling me I had a new message. My eyes squinted down at the microscopic screen to read “Between Kingston Racers and The Mustangs. Take a closer look.”

My brain wasn’t up to the task of thinking too hard, but then my eye caught the image of a black mustang painted on the side of a trailer in one of the photos just a few feet from me. Two feet from that was a team photo of the Kingston Racers. Between them was a photo of two couples sitting on an old Chevy convertible outside the diner.

I looked closer at the photo of the couple, and realized that I was looking at my mom when she was my age.

Something in me felt really strange. I looked down at my phone again and it was off. I pushed the button on it to reread the message and remembered the battery was dead. It wouldn’t even beep at me.

I hesitantly closed the phone and put it in my pocket. The waitress saw me gazing at the photo of my mother on the wall and asked me if there was something wrong.

I didn’t know how to answer. Nothing was wrong, but nothing was right either.

I stepped up on the booth seat without saying a word and pulled the photo of the wall. With a moment of unusual grace, I stepped back down without falling. The photo was well kept, as if it had been taken yesterday. Everyone in it was smiling. My mother looked like she was perfectly content in the moment, but I had a feeling she was looking at me.

I was sure the hair on the back of my neck was standing up. I could imagine my mom talking to me as my hands clenched the frame and I found myself thrown so off guard. For a second I felt light-headed and leaned against the counter. This was too weird.

The old man glanced up at me from his crossword puzzle. The pencil hanging from his lips fell onto the table and clattered against his glass.

He paused for a moment, then said “It sure is good to see you come home Jaquin.”

And that is when things were just starting to get strange.