More Than a Memory

New Life

York sits down at an empty table in the small diner, pretending not to notice when the table shifted as he placed his helmet on it. A waitress walks over to his table and sets a glass of water down in front of him.

"What can I get you?" she asks.

"What's the cheapest thing you've got on the menu?" he asks, not having looked at it yet.

"As far as entrées go, the chicken sandwich is cheapest, but many of the appetizers are cheaper," she answered.

"How much for the sandwich?"

"Its $8.50."

"I'll have to do an appetizer then, otherwise I won't be able to tip you enough."

"Oh...um, well there's a chicken wing appetizer for $6.00. It comes with ten wings. Or ther—"

"The chicken wings sound great, thanks," he cuts her off and hands her the menu he still hasn't touched until that moment. She smiles and walks away.

"What will you do after today? You'll still need to eat," Delta says in York's mind.

I know that, D. I don't know what I'm going to do about it though, he responded, pondering his options. I suppose it's about time I found a job huh?

"That would statistically be much safer than your current 'employment'"

Yeah, yeah. What job could I even get? I'm not qualified for anything...except lock picking, and in case you haven't noticed, that's not really in demand anymore.

"I do not think I would put lock picking in your top five skills. There are plenty of different possibilities for you."

Thanks, D. You really know how to cheer a guy up.

"I am merely trying to assist."

York sighs. His reply to Delta is silenced before it began by a tap on his shoulder. York turns to meet the gaze of an elderly man sitting at the table behind him.

"I know it's not really my place," the old man begins, "but I couldn't help but overhear what you said to the waitress. It sounds like you're going through a rough patch right now."

"You don't know the half of it," York replies, laughing weakly.

"Well I've got a spare room, you're welcome to stay with us for a while until you get back on your feet."

"Oh no. I couldn't do that. After this meal I won't have any money to p—"

"That doesn't concern me. But I suppose if it would make you feel better you could lend me a hand with some stuff that I'm getting too old for, and we'll call it even."

"This is a great opportunity. Why are you hesitating?" Delta asks him.

I don't know if I can trust him.

"You don't need to. You just need to work for him."

"What kinds of things you need help with?" York asks finally.

"Well that depends somewhat on your skills. However a big portion of it will be heavy lifting, mending fences, and things of that nature." Seeing York's raised eyebrow he adds, "my wife and I run a farm. We used to be able to handle things ourselves, but now..."

"Sure I'll do it," York says.

"Great. I'll talk to you after you finish eating," the man says, nodding toward the waitress walking over with a steaming plate of wings. York simply smiles and turns to dig in.

***

York walks out of the diner after paying for his meal and spots the man leaning against an old but well-kept pickup truck.