i might be making that up...

Nighthawks

"Coffee please," I said, plopping onto a bar stool in the empty diner. It was just after ten o'clock at night. I was on my way to my daughter's wedding, which would take place the next day. For most people, it would be a happy time. Not for me. For me, it just meant she was going to be moving halfway across the country, relying on someone else, and she would no longer need me.

That's why I had stopped in this little ghost of a town, barely visible from the freeway, and that's why I was now sitting in this abandoned diner, drinking lukewarm coffee served to me from the little guy whose shirt said "Morton." I wanted to postpone the inevitable – seeing my daughter – as long as possible, and thus avoid the overwhelming emotions I knew would come with it.

I was beginning to wonder if anyone else was even awake in this embarrassment of a town, when the door opened and in stumbled a woman wearing a bright red dress that matched her hair. She staggered on her heels to an empty stool on the other side of the diner.

"Hi, Morty," she said to the man behind the counter in what seemed like a too-loud voice. "You better have a strong pot on tonight. I need enough caffeine to get me the rest of the way home."

The little man just smiled and set about getting the woman's mug. She pretended to touch up her lipstick while sneaking glances at me over her compact. I concentrated on the small chip in the rim of my coffee cup. Then she pulled out a cigarette, started to light it, but apparently thought better of it. She stared at me relentlessly the whole time. Finally, Morton brought her coffee.

"Thanks, sugar," said Red Dress. I assumed she was thanking Morton, but after an awkward pause, I looked up and realized she was still staring at me, waiting. The sugar bowl was at my elbow.

"Oh, of course," I muttered and passed it over. Then I reabsorbed myself in my black coffee and lack of thoughts. I didn't want to think at all. I just wanted to be numb.

Red Dress seemed fidgety, anxious. I could still feel her gaze, though I wouldn't make eye contact. "Where you headed, stranger?" she asked finally. I looked up just long enough to try to indicate I didn't feel like talking. Still, I couldn't help but answer.

"Just passin' through." It wasn't a lie.

"Where you passin' from?" she insisted. I just shrugged, too tired even to answer. "Where you passin' to?" she tried again. I sighed and ran a hand over my face, still not engaging. "Looks like we got a quiet one, Morty. You better pour him another hot cup. My treat." This time I looked up enough to tip my hat and nod slightly.

The three of us just remained in silence then, each in our own world. Morton busied himself tidying up behind the counter. Red Dress kept fidgeting – tapping her fingernails on the wood counter, then tapping her heel on the checkered floor. She stared at her coffee, stirred it, but only occasionally took a sip. And I just sat there, still trying not to think.

Soon, the door opened again, this time allowing entrance to a tall man in a blue suit and grey hat. He sat down by Red Dress, who barely looked at him, but it appeared they knew each other. He tipped his hat, first at her, then at Morton, and finally at me. I returned the gesture.

"The regular, Morty. Better not be too strong. I have to sleep."

Morton just gave Blue Suit the same smile he'd given Red Dress and me, and busied himself fetching yet another cup of coffee. I wondered if the other customers really expected different strengths of coffee to come from the same pot. I wondered if Morton could control how strong he made the coffee. I wondered why I cared. Then I decided to stop wondering.

I sat there, staring, dazed. Morton refilled my cup without me asking, without me noticing it had been empty. Blue Suit and Red Dress started to mutter to each other. They glanced at me occasionally. I decided to ignore them. They could stare all they wanted. I'd be gone soon, and I'd never look back.

Soon it was eleven o'clock. I looked outside, expecting to see a stray dog in the garbage at least. But the streets remained deathly silent. I wanted to know about this town. But I didn't want to start a conversation, so I kept my curiosity to myself.

I felt it was time to get back on the road. I couldn't keep my daughter waiting forever. And I didn't know how much more caffeine I could take on an empty stomach. Yet I couldn't make myself get up. Something about sitting here, in silence with Red Dress, Blue Suit, and Morton, made me feel at home. As eerie as the dark streets outside were, and as intrusive as the other patrons seemed to be, I felt cozy, comfortable, accepted. Maybe I would just stay twenty more minutes.

Another hour passed. Still I couldn't bring myself to leave. I didn't know what Morton was doing; he still appeared to be cleaning up behind the counter, but I couldn't figure out why it took so long. He seemed to be doing the same thing he had been doing two hours ago. I guessed he kept doing it – whatever it was – until he closed the shop.

I was startled out of my trance when a rush of red moved. It was Red Dress, standing, heading for the door. "Thanks again, Morty." She nodded to Morton and Blue Suit, then turned to me. "Nice talking to ya, stranger." I tipped my hat, and she was gone, seemingly disappearing as soon as she stepped off the diner's stoop.

Not long after that, Blue Suit rose as well. He dropped a few bills on the counter, looked at me, then added a few more pieces of paper. "Here, Morty, this ought to cover our friend." Morton collected the cash, smiled, and waved. Blue Suit nodded, tipped his hat at us both, and left without a sound. He too vanished when he stepped outside the diner's ring of light.

Even with the other two customers gone, I couldn't manage to leave my seat. I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until I thought about the drive that still awaited me. I would just sit there a few more minutes...

I sat up with a start, disoriented. One side of my face was cold and numb. I rubbed it and felt the impressions left by the countertop. The light in the room seemed too bright, and I blinked heavily to adjust. I looked at the clock: one-thirty in the morning. The sign on the diner's door had been rotated so that the 'open' side faced in. Morton still stood behind the counter, smiling, cleaning. He saw I was awake and his smile grew. I realized my mug had been refilled. I began to sip it, waiting for my face and hands to wake up fully.

I felt guilty for keeping Morton here late. I tried to imagine his life. Did he have a family waiting for him somewhere? Why hadn't he evicted me and gone home? Was this diner all he had? I sensed he wasn't the conversational type though, so I let my questions slip out of my mind as quickly as they came.

Finally, coffee downed and body thawed, I felt I had the strength to continue. I remembered Blue Suit had paid my tab, but still I pulled a few bills from my wallet and laid them on the counter. Morton deserved it.

As I stood and gathered my jacket and briefcase, I again looked out the window. It must be nice to live in such a quiet town, I thought peacefully. I felt I should come back here again. But somehow I knew I probably wouldn't.

I walked to the glass door, put my hand on the knob. I looked back at Morton. Still smiling, cleaning. He saw me and waved.

"Have a good night, Morty." And I, too, was lost in the darkness.