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| Sunday, 19 June 2005 |
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Telling Tales :
Too young to be alone by Kamea Continued from last week The small diner smelled delicious, the lights were dim, soft country music played over the speakers, and somewhere on the other side of the diner, a woman's breathy laughter floated over to her. She smiled, remembering the diners back in Georgia and she almost felt as if she were at home.
"I'm alright, thanks," she said meekly. Deciding this woman was not going to kick her out, she let go of her duffel bag and said "I'll have a cup of coffee." The woman raised one perfectly drawn on eyebrow at her, "Is that all? You look 'bout half starved young'en!" Adria felt the red hot embarrassment creeping up her neck. "I-I" she stammered, not quite knowing what to say. "I'll just have some coffee." The waitress smiled, tucked her pad in her apron, and nodded, "Okay." She turned and walked cheerfully back to the counter. Adria opened her duffel back, fished around until she found her journal, pulled it out and opened it to the next blank page. She tugged her pen from the binder and began to write. Mom, just wanted to let you know I'm doin' alright. Nothin' bads' happened and I'm okay. I wish I could come home, but you know I can't. I kept telling you....but what's the point in writing it, I've already said it a hundred times. I want you to know that I'm sorry, I don't mean to cause you pain, or upset you, I don't want you to think that I did this to purposely hurt you, I didn't. Kiss Tammy and Sam for me, please make sure you feed Buckster. Mama, do you remember the summer me and you and daddy and Tammy and Sammy went down to the river, and daddy taught us how to catch tad-poles? And then we kept them in that pan on the back porch and waited till they were frogs? Remember that night they disappeared? And you said you thought maybe a cat had eaten them? Well, I just wanted to let you know that I couldn't bear the thought of daddy using them for bait, so I went and threw them in the creek. Just thought I'd let you know that. I hope to see you all again one day, but until then, just know I love you, and I'll be waiting. Love always, Adria:: Sitting back, she tucked the pen and journal back into her duffel, and opened a little creamer cup, and when nobody was looking, threw it back like she was taking a shot, and swallowed it in one gulp. "Here ya go!" Once again, the waitress scared her so bad she dropped the small creamer and began to choke, coughing and sputtering. Finally after a minute she could breath, and looked up just in time to see the waitress put down a huge plate of pancakes and bacon, eggs and sausage, a glass of orange juice and a coffee. Adria stared at all the food, her mouth dropping open, her stomach instantly started to growl. "But I can't- I can't afford this!" she sputtered, staring at the waitress with tears in her eyes. "Aw honey, don't worry bout'it, I gottcha covered." Adria shook her head and dug in her pocket, coming out with three crumpled dollar bills, some change and pocket lint. She offered it up to the woman who just laughed. "You keep it and don't say another word about it." Adria put the money back in her pocket and wiped away her tears. "Thank you" she said, and meant it. The woman smiled back, "The only thing I want in return is to know where you're from and what you're doing out here alone?" She settled into the booth across from Adria. Adria looked up from the half drunken glass of orange juice she was chugging, and wiped her mouth. "I'm from Georgia, and I don't have anyone else, but I'm okay, really," she insisted." "Well, how'bout that! I'm from Atlanta!" the waitress hooted, then pulled a napkin from the dispenser, scribbled down her name and number, and pushed it across the table to Adria. "Well, honey, it ain't none of my business, but you take care and give me a call if you ever need anything. I know I wouldn't want my baby runnin' around this crazy city by herself. You need me, call me." She stood up to leave, then turned back, "How old are you anyways?" Adria swallowed more orange juice and paused as she started to cut into her pancake, "Seventeen. " The waitress nodded and walked away. Adria stopped to look at the napkin before she put it in her duffel bag. The waitress' name was Lori....that was her mothers name. End |
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"Whatcha wanna drink?" The voice scared her and she instinctively
grabbed her duffel bag, clutching it to her side. She looked up to see a
chubby waitress in a pink and black dress, wearing a stained apron and too
much make-up standing over her. Her hair was blond and piled up on top of
her head, little wisps of it had escaped her sloppy bun and framed her
face, her brown roots showed badly, but if she knew, she didn't care. Her
acrylic nails were long and bright red as she clutched a pen in one hand
and a small notepad in the other. "Are you okay?" she asked, and Adria
instantly recognised a southern accent, not heard much here in New York.
