hands together as if she is praying, her fingernails brushing her chin. ‘When?’
‘Last night.’
An elderly waitress wanders over with three plates balanced on her arms. ‘Three John Philips specials,’ she says, placing the plates in front of Paavo, Jason and I. ‘You want anything, dear?’ she asks Denise.
‘No thank you, Ma ’am.’
‘ Enjoy, fellas.’ The waitress shuffles off and I glance down at the plate. A heart attack waiting to happen – eggs, bacon, sausage, fried bread, waffles all piled high.
Jason has already started t ucking in as if someone is about to whip the plate away. Paavo is too absorbed in the conversation to eat.
‘She went off with my Ronnie?’
‘I … I don’t know. She knocked me out befor e she left. Hit me with a lamp,’ I say truthfully.
It’s good to have some truth floating around.
‘Goddamn. He always did have a thing for that bitch. The thought of all that money probably got him hornier than a tomcat with four balls.’
We lapse into silence. Denise staring at the ceiling, Paavo staring at his food and Jason truffling like a pig at a trough. I’m staring at Denise. Junior is less than thirty yards away, but there’s no way I’m going to enlighten her on that score despite my desire to tell her that he did stay faithful; that there’s no need to doubt or hate him.
A hand slams into the back of my head and forces it down. My face smashes into the John Philips special.
FUCK!
If it wasn’t piled so high, and I hadn’t managed to turn my head slightly, I’d have probably broken my nose. My head is yanked back up again by my hair.
I’ve just let a fart go, except it wasn’t just a fart.
DOUBLE FUCK!
‘Where the fuck is she?’ Barry White asks in his slow , deep, gravelly voice.
Paavo has already risen to his feet, turning to confront Mr White.
‘SIT the fuck down,’ Barry commands.
Paavo throws a punch. Barry grabs the fist with one hand, yanks Paavo out of the booth with the other, his legs clunking into me, spins him round and launches him into the booth opposite, sending crockery, cutlery and two college kids flying.
Denise is on her feet, pulling at Barry’s belt with one hand, hitting his chest with the other. He swats her away, grabs hold of my hair again and twists my head so I am looking up at him.
He is one mean- looking son of a bitch and he has bottomless eyes.
He rumbles: ‘You better find that bitch and get me my money back or you’ll regret the day you were born.’ With that he lets go and strides out of the diner, oblivious to the chaos left in his wake. Denise trots out after him.
Paavo is being helped back to his feet when Kevin Philips, the latest of the clan to run the emporium, arrives at the table. ‘Are you okay, Tad? You want me to call the police?’
‘No. No, it’s okay ,’ I say, still dazed, rising unsteadily to my feet, brushing food from my face. ‘It was just a misunderstanding.’
I shift my gait. I wonder if this place sells underwear. It probably has everything but.
‘Are you sure? He assaulted you and your friend. Caused one hell of a scene.’
‘No, it’s fine, Kevin, honestly.’
The last thing we need is the police turning up. Joe Gerlach already thinks we’re up to something dodgy. If he opens the back of the van we’ll be skydiving without a parachute. I fish my wallet out of my back pocket and drop a hundred bucks on the table. Sixty three dollars of it is from Junior.
‘For the mess. I’ll get tidied up and we’ll be gone. I’m sorry about everything.’
Jason tries to hide a burp and fails , then motions his fork at Paavo’s plate. ‘Do you think he’s going to eat that?’
* * *
We’re back in the van, the gas can at my feet. I tidied up as best I could in a thirty second dash. More just lubricated the cheeks than anything else. A little damp, but basically okay. Which is more
‘Last night.’
An elderly waitress wanders over with three plates balanced on her arms. ‘Three John Philips specials,’ she says, placing the plates in front of Paavo, Jason and I. ‘You want anything, dear?’ she asks Denise.
‘No thank you, Ma ’am.’
‘ Enjoy, fellas.’ The waitress shuffles off and I glance down at the plate. A heart attack waiting to happen – eggs, bacon, sausage, fried bread, waffles all piled high.
Jason has already started t ucking in as if someone is about to whip the plate away. Paavo is too absorbed in the conversation to eat.
‘She went off with my Ronnie?’
‘I … I don’t know. She knocked me out befor e she left. Hit me with a lamp,’ I say truthfully.
It’s good to have some truth floating around.
‘Goddamn. He always did have a thing for that bitch. The thought of all that money probably got him hornier than a tomcat with four balls.’
We lapse into silence. Denise staring at the ceiling, Paavo staring at his food and Jason truffling like a pig at a trough. I’m staring at Denise. Junior is less than thirty yards away, but there’s no way I’m going to enlighten her on that score despite my desire to tell her that he did stay faithful; that there’s no need to doubt or hate him.
A hand slams into the back of my head and forces it down. My face smashes into the John Philips special.
FUCK!
If it wasn’t piled so high, and I hadn’t managed to turn my head slightly, I’d have probably broken my nose. My head is yanked back up again by my hair.
I’ve just let a fart go, except it wasn’t just a fart.
DOUBLE FUCK!
‘Where the fuck is she?’ Barry White asks in his slow , deep, gravelly voice.
Paavo has already risen to his feet, turning to confront Mr White.
‘SIT the fuck down,’ Barry commands.
Paavo throws a punch. Barry grabs the fist with one hand, yanks Paavo out of the booth with the other, his legs clunking into me, spins him round and launches him into the booth opposite, sending crockery, cutlery and two college kids flying.
Denise is on her feet, pulling at Barry’s belt with one hand, hitting his chest with the other. He swats her away, grabs hold of my hair again and twists my head so I am looking up at him.
He is one mean- looking son of a bitch and he has bottomless eyes.
He rumbles: ‘You better find that bitch and get me my money back or you’ll regret the day you were born.’ With that he lets go and strides out of the diner, oblivious to the chaos left in his wake. Denise trots out after him.
Paavo is being helped back to his feet when Kevin Philips, the latest of the clan to run the emporium, arrives at the table. ‘Are you okay, Tad? You want me to call the police?’
‘No. No, it’s okay ,’ I say, still dazed, rising unsteadily to my feet, brushing food from my face. ‘It was just a misunderstanding.’
I shift my gait. I wonder if this place sells underwear. It probably has everything but.
‘Are you sure? He assaulted you and your friend. Caused one hell of a scene.’
‘No, it’s fine, Kevin, honestly.’
The last thing we need is the police turning up. Joe Gerlach already thinks we’re up to something dodgy. If he opens the back of the van we’ll be skydiving without a parachute. I fish my wallet out of my back pocket and drop a hundred bucks on the table. Sixty three dollars of it is from Junior.
‘For the mess. I’ll get tidied up and we’ll be gone. I’m sorry about everything.’
Jason tries to hide a burp and fails , then motions his fork at Paavo’s plate. ‘Do you think he’s going to eat that?’
* * *
We’re back in the van, the gas can at my feet. I tidied up as best I could in a thirty second dash. More just lubricated the cheeks than anything else. A little damp, but basically okay. Which is more
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