Hijacked

Chapter Nine

It was almost twenty minutes before they came up to the next town. Morningside was a small town that boasted a population of just under one thousand. As she pulled off the highway and onto the main street she quickly saw a gas station that had a small dinner attached to it. She pulled into the lot and parked.

He held out his hand and she handed him the keys. He passed her purse over and they left the car. She steered him into the gas station first and was thankful when she saw an ATM. It wasn't a bank or a brand that she recognized, but she would be able to pull money out. She almost choked when she saw the fee, but just took out one hundred dollars. She wasn't exactly rich and that was pretty much all that she could spare without her bills suffering.

As she stuffed the money into her wallet she nodded to him and followed as he led her into the diner.

The diner was small, only six stools at a counter and four tables against the grainy windows. There were two older men sitting at the counter sipping coffee and the tables were empty. There was a very heavyset and bored looking woman in a grease stained shirt and a hairnet standing behind the counter.

"Anywhere you like," she said as they paused at the doorway.

Tom steered her over to the farthest table and they sat down. A second later the woman was beside them, handing out menus and armed with a coffeepot.

"No coffee, thanks," Emily said as she put her hand over the cup the waitress had put in front of her. "Do you have tea?" she asked.

"Tea?" The waitress looked at her as though she'd asked for liquid gold.

"Water?" she tried.

"Be right up."

They looked at the menu. Tom glanced at his and she looked at it a little more critically. The waitress brought her half a glass of water and then hovered, waiting to take their orders.

"You good?" Tom asked as he handed his menu to the waitress.

She nodded. Tom ordered a breakfast platter; two eggs, sausages, hash browns and toast. She ordered a BLT with fries. She didn't really eat breakfast, and when she did it wasn't breakfast food.

When the waitress had left she looked at him. Now he was going to tell her the truth.

He poured sugar in his cup from a dented shaker and picked up a creamer that the waitress had dumped in the middle of their table. He seemed to change his mind about it and put it back down. He stirred his cup a few times and then took a sip.

"Not to your liking?" she asked when he almost choked and pulled a face at his cup.

"Have you ever tried to drink tar?" he asked as he put the cup back down on the table.

"No, can't say that I have."

"Neither have I, but I assume that this is a reasonable facsimile."

"Appetizing." She smiled.

"You don't drink coffee?" he questioned, looking at her glass of water.

"Never gotten a taste for it." She shrugged. "My brother wouldn't let me drink it until I turned eighteen, and when I did try it I hated it. Can't stand the taste."

"Well, at least you weren't introduced to coffee with this sludge."

"Quit stalling and tell me what's going on."

Looking around to make sure no one was paying them any attention he leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"I left home when I was sixteen. I had a tenth grade education, no family and nothing of any value. I lived in a shelter for a while, then I got into a youth hostel. I was young, rebellious and dumb as shit. I fell in with a bad crowd, did some stupid things and then got in trouble for them."