• • • • •
I have no idea who Rod is or if there even is or ever was a Rod. But inside the Whitehall truck stop off Interstate 90 is Rod’s Diner. Tonight’s shift is about as busy as a typical night, which is to say a healthy mix of rushing around for a while and then having nothing to do, before rushing around again. I’m a busboy and have had the job for a couple of months; in Montana I can work limited hours at fourteen years old, and I’m almost fifteen, anyway. I only wanted the job because I’m almost allowed to get my learner’s permit (I took the driver’s ed course last fall), and I’m saving up for a truck. I’m ready to retire my bike.
It’s about seven p.m., and I’m chatting with John, one of our regulars. John has a thick brown mustache with matching thick eyebrows, and he makes a weekly trip through Whitehall on his way to Spokane and back to Fargo. He is telling me about this time when he was driving and saw a Corvette flip right in front of him on some high mountain pass.
“Sos I hit the brakes hard, the tires just smokin’ as they dug into the road. The back end of my truck swervin’ like a fish out of water, almost pullin’ me off the road and off the ledge.” John takes a sip of his coffee. “Sos I get to a stop and jump out, running like a chicken with my head cut off at the car. One of the guys had been ejected right through the damn windshield. Sure as shit.”
“Oh god. Did he live?”
John glares at me for interrupting. “And the other was trapped right there in his seat. The car was upside down, of course. Sos I’m yankin’ on the door when—”
The door to Rod’s Diner dings. I look over to see who is entering, out of habit mostly. But I actually recognize someone this time. Standing there is Ms. McLean—Susan—in her nursing scrubs, followed by . . . Seth?
I straighten up from the counter and say, “One sec, John.” I probably look confused as I stare at Susan and Seth, trying to absorb the fact that they are related. Family? Mother and son? This makes total sense in retrospect. They both appeared at the same time: one in class, one at the nursing home. I just didn’t put it together.
Susan spots me. “Charlie? What a surprise.” Ms. McLean has an amazing ability to say everything so warmly, and again she has the largest smile.
Seth looks up from his phone. “Oh, hey, Charlie.” He still has his camera hanging around his neck. Seth towers a good five inches above his mom. He also has on a flat-beaked baseball hat with some emblem on it. I don’t recognize it, but it looks kind of like a Chinese letter to me. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“I’m just the busboy, so you won’t get free food out of me.” Then in this weird German-sounding accent I say, “I don’t have ze power.”
I can be such an idiot sometimes.
I force a laugh to get me out of this awkward situation, and Susan follows. Seth just smiles.
I notice that Tammy is standing near us with two menus in her hands. “Oh, Tammy is ready to seat you.”
Tammy smirks and mocks, “Are you sure ze show is over?” She chuckles. “I could use a few more laughs tonight. Especially because Billy split with me.” She says that last part in a hushed voice. But she also says that last part at least once every month. Billy and her can never stay together for more than thirty consecutive days because it’s against their relationship rules. Okay, that’s a joke. Who knows why they can’t stay together without splitting up and then getting back together. Tammy always says, “Someday I’m not going to take him back. That’ll show him.” But someday has not yet arrived. I’m not sure someday will ever arrive.
As Susan and Seth look over their menus, I try to make myself look busy. But every time I walk behind the counter, John asks, “Ready for the end of the story?”
I keep saying, “Sorry, John. Not yet.” Then I pretend to work, hoping both Susan and Seth will notice all the moving and hustling I’m doing. For some reason I just don’t want them to see me standing around talking.
On my way to the far side of the restaurant with a broom, Seth says, “Hey, Charlie.” He waves me over and then points at one of the items on the menu. “What is Rod’s Diner Surprise? And is it supposed to say ‘diner’ or ‘dinner’? Because wouldn’t ‘dinner’ make more sense? Unless it’s like a breakfast thing.”
“Uh. I think it varies from day to day.” Not sure why I said “I think,” because it does vary from day to day. That’s why it’s called a surprise.
“Do you know what it is today?” he asks.
“Some kind of stew. Not sure, though. I think Tammy knows. But to be honest, I’d stick with eggs or sandwiches. Everything else here is kind of nasty.”
“So that’s a no to the lasagna,” says Susan, smiling.
I shrug. “Some people like it.”
“I’m kidding, Charlie.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I laugh. God, I am feeling so awkward in front of both of them, like I’m not good enough to even be around. So I try to take the attention off me. “So you’re related?”
“You don’t see our striking resemblance?” asks Seth sarcastically.
“Seth mostly takes after his father, but he has my eyes and chin and hair,” says Susan.
“Oh, will your dad be joining you for dinner tonight?”
“He would if he wasn’t in prison”, says Seth.
“Seth!” says Susan.
My face feels like it’s on fire. “Oh. I’m sorry for asking.”
Seth shakes his head. “I’m kidding, Charlie. He lives in Seattle.”
Gulp. “Oh.”
Tammy comes up behind me. “Ready to order?”
Susan says, “Yes, I think so.”
I bow away. “Talk to you later,” I say to no one in particular.
A little while later John stands and says, “I guess you’ll have to hear the ending next time. I’m back to the road.”
“Next time. Of course!” I feel like a jerk for brushing him off. But I’m too nervous with Susan and Seth in the restaurant. I feel like I have to impress them.
Their plates cleaned of food and their bill paid, Ms. McLean and Seth stand to leave. He shouts across the mostly empty diner, “I’ll see you first thing tomorrow in Español, Charlie.” He has so much confidence. And enthusiasm. I could never shout across a restaurant like that—even if there were only a couple of other people around.
I don’t know what to say. “Sure.” Which is a ridiculous response, so I add, “Of course.”
He winks at me.
Then I say, “Sounds great.”
Give it a rest, Charlie.
I finish sweeping the diner and do my end-of-shift cleaning duties. When I finish cleaning, I’m allowed to go home. It’s dark, but I still ride my bike.