Drifting Nowhere

Chapter 3 - Yelton

April 25, 2010

Four buses later, I'm standing at the bus stop outside of the town I promised myself I'd never return to. Welcome to Yelton, KY. The sign in front of me doesn't mention the small town's population. It's painted in green on the side of an old, white wagon. Pansies are planted in the back, white on the top row and yellow on the bottom row.

It was this wagon that convinced me to continue into this town five years ago. I had assumed that a sign so well taken care of had to mean that there were friendly people in the town of Yelton. I wasn't wrong. The sign looks the same as the first time I saw it, but with a fresher coat of paint. Behind the bus stop is the town's feed store. A bald man with a long, grey beard sits on the rocking chair by the door. He watches me walk past the store towards town and I nod in his direction. He watched me walk into this town the first time too. The only difference is that this time, he knows who I am.

Ignoring the growing pain throwing on my side, I walk straight for two miles before I get to the town square. Most of the town's activity is in the town square and the main road circles around a round bed of purple asters, yellow goldenrods, and a statue of the town's founder, Stanley Yelton.

From the circle, the road branches out into other directions. Pat's diner sits at the intersection facing the main road's entry into the town. My knees give when I see the diner and I stumble before righting myself.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

The white diner sign is simple, with a black border and red letters that spell Pat's Diner. The outer walls and double doors are all glass so I can see right into the restaurant. Half barrel planters on either side doors hold more yellow and white pansies. I wonder if the same person is responsible here as the one who planted them in the welcome sign wagon.

Stomach growling, I waste no time opening the door and step into the restaurant. More black, white, and red fill the restaurant. The floor is linoleum with white squares offset by smaller black diamonds in the corners. There are booths along the right wall and a counter runs along the back two-thirds of the left wall. Tables fill in the empty spaces in between. The seats all have red vinyl padded cushions and the tables and counter are all white.

Conversations come to a halt as everyone turns to look at me. I adjust my backpack, adjust my weight onto one foot, and look back. As I turn back towards the door, a middle aged woman hurries towards me with a warm smile.

"Welcome to Yelton and to Pat's Diner," she says. If she knows this is my first time here, town must be smaller than I had originally thought.

"Um, thank you." I reply quietly while I look at the woman in front of me. She is wearing an apron, but no name tag. Her curly red hair falls to her shoulders. She's a small round woman, no more than 5 foot 1, and the smile hasn't left her face.

"I'm Pat. Why don't you have a seat and I'll find you a menu." I had assumed that Pat would be a man, but this woman looks like a Pat. She also looks like the type to plant flowers on the side of the road. I ask her when she comes back and she seems happy that I noticed.

The conversations around picked up a little when Pat first walked over to me, but curious glances keep coming my way. At least they aren't trying to hide it. I ignore the stares and look at the menu. The prices are reasonable and confirms my theory about saving money on food in a small town,I'm still running low on cash and need to come up with a plan soon.

The diner looks exactly the same as it did the first time I saw it. Run. I shake my head to clear it. No one but Joe has seen you yet. My heartbeat pounds in my ears. I try to swallow the lump in my throat. Closing my eyes, I take a moment to slow my breathing. I wipe my hands on my jeans, take one last deep breath, and watch my hand shake as I reach for the door.