“Why did you break into my truck?” He asked. He was still pretty pissed off about it but he wasn’t going to pound her or anything.
True looked past him and replied calmly. “I was cold. I didn’t have enough money for the motel.”
Clay frowned. “You’ve been sleeping in my truck for the entire time that you’ve been in town?”
She shook her head and swiped away a tear that managed to drip from her eyes. “No, sir. The first night I slept behind the diner. But it got too cold.”
“Jesus…” he said softly. He just watched her quietly and she pulled her coat closer, not because she was cold although he mistook the action for that and cranked up the heat.
“What’s your name, True isn’t it?” he asked.
She nodded.
He stared at her like she was a specimen under glass. “Look, don’t you have someone who can help you out?” True just stared past him and Clay sighed. “Didn’t it occur to you that the owner of the truck might come back?”
“I’m sorry,” she said in a shaky voice. “I wasn’t going to steal anything. I just thought I’d have enough money if I gave it another week. And Sue and Tiffany said that the truck had been sitting here for weeks.” She finally met his eyes and he saw something that he didn’t like. It was a look of defeat. She looked like a shell of the girl that had sprinted around the diner filling everyone’s coffee cups and smiling a greeting even when she was the topic of rude gossip and speculation.
He made a decision, a stupid one and he had no reason as to why he was being stupid—only he did know. This girl was down on her luck and he wasn’t a complete prick.
“I’m going to take the truck in to be serviced but I’m going to return it here afterwards. I can’t keep it at my place and I’m damn sure not leaving it at Kenyon.” He sighed again. “Friday I’m taking her on the road. I guess…I guess you can stay here until then.”
It took her a long time to digest what he’d just said. She looked at him in confusion. He was letting her stay even after she’d snuck in, broken the molding on his shelf, practically smashed his table and after he’d screamed at her like the criminal she was?
“I…you’re letting me stay here?” She said.
“Yeah, you’ve already been here.” He looked around. “Plus you picked up a little. You’re going to have the money to get yourself a room at the motel by Friday, right?”
She nodded quickly. “Tiffany pays us weekly. She doesn’t hold a week in the hole and I’ve been working doubles. I’ll have the money to get a place by Friday.”
He nodded. “Then alright.
Pt 2
After the man left, Clay was his name, True had a hard time falling back asleep. She felt ashamed for what she’d done. She’d been desperate but that didn’t give her the right to mess up someone’s property. The man was more than nice to let her stay. Anyone else would have seen her in jail or even shot on sight.
She tossed and turned. Clay had flipped a switch by the bed turning on something he called a bunk heater. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to do that but couldn’t deny that the extra warmth was amazing. He gave her instructions to turn it off in the morning and then he gathered up some of his papers, looked around as if he might change his mind and then he left with a grunt after she thanked him repeatedly.
Even though he had given her permission to stay there True didn’t want anyone to know, so the next morning she slipped out of the truck, headed into the woods and came out on the road where she walked the short few yards to the diner.
As always the breakfast shift was busy but less rowdy then the night before. The breakfast crowd paid less attention to her. They must have come to the realization that black people didn’t do anything different than white people. She went about her duties anxiously waiting for Clay to show up. Maybe he would tell her he had slept on it and changed his mind.
When he finally ambled in her hands began to shake. She watched him shrug off his coat and hang it on the hook before taking his regular seat at the counter. She noted that he was no longer wearing the cast and it all clicked into place. His leg was why he couldn’t work.
She hurried over to pour his unsweetened tea with light ice. “Good morning, sir.”
He looked at her. “Just Clay. Good morning.”
She nodded. “I’ll have your order right out, Clay.”
True hurried to the back, surprising Jeb. “Clay’s here.” She said while wringing her hands anxiously and looking around for his order.
“Yep,” Jeb said while flipping a row of burgers. “I’ll make his double decker in a sec.”
“I’ll drop the toast,” she said and grabbed the bread.
“Gal, what has got you all riled up?” Jeb asked.
“Nothing.” She said.
“Well take this plate of burgers to the pass through. He plated the burgers on buns that he had already prepped and True grabbed them and placed them on the pass through for Sue who was busy talking to Clay.
“Order up.” She called but Sue was leaning on the counter still talking. With a sigh True went around front and grabbed the order herself and delivered it to Sue’s table. She might get pissed about it but True didn’t want to hear anyone grumbling about the service.
“You about to get back on the road?” Sue was saying.
Clay’s eyes followed True as she carried the tray of food and delivered it to a table. The girl was homeless, breezed in from nowhere and no one knew anything about her. How did she live like that? She was such a pretty little thing, petite and small, almost delicate. The streets were a hard place for something that looked so soft. He remembered her tears from last night and felt instant shame that he had caused them. She glanced over at him and he looked away.
“Clay?” Sue said.
“Huh?” he blinked at her having forgotten that she was there.
“When you going back to work?” Sue repeated.
“Oh,” he replied while taking a sip of tea. “Friday.”
Sue saw who he was looking at and when True went back to the kitchen she leaned closer to Clay and began to whisper.
“I hear tell that Sully’s boys were in here last night giving that one some trouble.”
Clay’s brow drew together. “What kind of trouble?”
“Well just a bunch of talk. But Tiffany put a stop to it.”
Clay didn’t like Sully Pranger. He was a bonafide white supremacist. And while there was no shortage of racist on the mountain, most kept their dumb ideas to themselves. Sully, however, loved to spread his. Maybe because Clay was a truck driver and interacted with people all over the country and from all walks of life he didn’t think much about race and he certainly didn’t rank a person’s value based on it. Maybe that’s why True’s appearance in town had not interest him.
“Sully ain’t got nothing better to do than to go up against a woman. He’s a punk!”
Sue nodded in agreement and then walked away when True approached with Clay’s order.
Clay watched True as she set his food in front of him, studying her eyes. She seemed nervous and he didn’t like that. He didn’t want to be someone that made her feel nervous. He wasn’t Sully Pranger and he wanted her to know that not everyone on Cobb Hill Mountain thought like him.
He mentally shook himself. This girl wasn’t his concern. If she couldn’t handle the fire than she had no business being here.
After he’d eaten his lunch he went out back and took his truck to Bodie’s. He didn’t remind her that he’d bring it back or reassure her. But he did leave her a big tip.