Across Acheron

Session 18

Lynn settled another plate of apple pie before me, which I began wolfing down right away. We had to wait a while since she couldn’t leave the diner before closing time, so she kept feeding me until I could forget about where I was.

Keenan didn’t eat anything, of course. He just kept folding up paper airplanes out of menus and napkins. His eyes would occasionally slip up towards me, as if to make sure I was still sitting there or something. He was acting like a little kid with a new toy, the latest model that he didn’t want to share with anyone else. It bothered me a hell of a lot, to be honest with you.

The third time Lynn came to our table with another piece of pie, she brought along a bottle of Jack. She set it in front of me like she understood my trouble and knew how to get me through it. She didn’t know a damn thing, but I took her offer anyway.

I was never much of a drinker. Keenan knew that, which was probably why he stared at me with judging eyes. I stared back at him like I could handle his heat, trying not to wince when the liquid burned my throat on the way down.

By the time Lynn’s shift was finished, half of the bottle was in my system and Keenan had to hold me on the way to the car. The alcohol didn’t do much for me, believe it or not. My limbs felt vacant, sure, but my mind was all there.

Lynn had said that the inn wasn’t too far off, but I think old age was getting to her head. In a silent old Buick, she led us all the way to the outskirts of the small town, only stopping at the end of a long dirt driveway.

I saw the place between a few pines, grey bricked and standing tall and beautiful. The inn wasn’t anything fancy, but big enough for at least ten rooms. I hadn’t noticed it when we were walking past it hours before, but Lynn’s inn felt like home in the setting sun.

“We don’t get many travellers around these parts, so don’t worry about taking up space,” Lynn said as we stepped out of her car. We began to hike up the driveway towards wooden double doors. “Come morning and I’ll drive you two over to the nearby bus station. I don’t want you walking long distances on your feet anymore, you hear?”

Keenan and I didn’t say much back. I was pretty sure that Lynn could talk her way through war if she wanted to; she didn’t even need anyone listening to her to hold a conversation.

Once we entered through the doors, I finally understood why Lynn spoke so much. The lobby was dim, for one, setting this gloomy look to the whole place. A man sat hunched behind the front desk by the door, his eyes grey and his hair a wispy white. He was staring at the small television at the corner of the desk, his expression so intent that he didn’t even turn to see who came in.

The television wasn’t even on.

“This is my husband, Curt,” said Lynn as if there wasn’t a problem at all. “He’s a bit out of it nowadays; all he does is sleep, eat, and stare at that blank screen.”

“Did something happen to him?” I asked.

“It was those damned fair folk,” Lynn answered with disgust, gesturing to Keenan. “One of them spat right in his eyes and made him blind just because I could see them. He hasn’t been the same ever since. He speaks to the customers but when I come along, he shuts up. Probably had enough of me for all these years.”

Lynn smiled through the pain to hide it, but I could already see right through her. I knew what was going through her head as she tried introducing us to her unresponsive husband. I could tell that she thought it was all her fault; that if she didn’t see them, he never would’ve suffered. Who knew; maybe Curt thought the same thing but didn’t have the confidence to say it. We have mouths to speak but once something needs to be said, we shut the hell up.