“The sky holds the mystery’s of the cosmos, today.” My mother used to say.

 

The window was open as I drove down the one lane street that was backbone of the town. Helena, Maine was one of the smallest towns in the state with the closest major city being Augusta. It was hours away from anyone that mattered with a small fishing community that almost strictly focused on feeding the local economy. 

 

My old 1994 Chevy pickup held together with a hope and a prayer was my reliable steed to get me into town. Our movie theater was primarily for show. I can’t remember when the last time the owners changed the showings. Everybody stayed home anyway. Our one bar, next to our one diner, next to a couple of small stores that sold your basic needs.

 

The local farmers market combined with the fishermen to provide the catch of the day and create a make shift grocery store. Even some of the major vendors that supplied more than half the state barely made it out here. We had one Swann driver brave enough to make the travel to town and deliver some of the food and goods to local residents. 

 

I clicked on my radio and the one radio station that we would get was run by someone I used to go to high school with. His wife made the best margaritas and his music taste was questionable but it was something.

 

The potholes in town were getting quite atrocious as I drove down the street. The silver bullet of the diner with its iconic looking shine, was where I worked and where my mother worked before me. It had become almost a passed down roll of the diner waitress in town. A badge of honor I wished I didn’t have.

 

This town was all that I had really known. I had my first kiss at the movie theater. I lost my virginity to Dave Macilvoi, A boy in my high school who had been popular for having decided to get out of town and live in Portland. His parents come into the diner and tell me about all of his adventures in the big city. 

 

I had my regulars. Always fishermen who made enough to eat lunch at the diner every day. This was what I would generally wake up for. My hair flapped in the breeze coming in through the window. I turned right into the parking lot and drove around back so I couldn’t get in through the back entrance.

 

Parked and ready for my day I took a look in the mirror to make sure I looked alright. One final daily routine passed down from my mother that remained. I patted down my blouse and rolled up the window. The salty air of the ocean always smelled nice but it was always mixed with the smell of trash and grime so I quickly left my truck and entered the restaurant.

 

“Hey, Al.” I said walking into the restaurant.

 

“Hiya, Red.” He replied. 

 

He was sitting at a small office desk in the back smoking a cigar and going over paperwork. I was always surprised that we were still open. I saw many news stories of small towns like ours starting to vanish because they couldn’t afford to keep up with the economy. 

 

“You shouldn’t be smoking in the back. You know it’s kind of a law.”

 

“Well done, Sherlock.” He replied sarcastically as he turned to another page. “Inform the health department when they get here.” 

 

He took pride in the restaurant. He too was an inherited title. Owner passed down from grandfather to father to him. He always made sure the food was cooked right and our customers always raved about his cooking. In my personal opinion it was better than the previous owner’s for sure. 

 

“Don’t be an ass.” I responded back.

 

I took my apron off of the hook and began putting it on. 

 

“Your hair is sticking up in the back.” He said without looking up.

 

I reached up to pat down my hair and walked over to the mirror by the kitchen sink. 

 

“No it’s not.” 

 

“Made you look though.”

 

“Is that how this day’s going to be?”

 

“You started it.” 

 

“Well fine then. Is everything prepped for today?”

 

“Are you asking me if I know how to do my job in my own restaurant?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

He looked over. The stubble on his face caught the light. His brown hair wrapped into a goatee. The cigar still hanging from his mouth.

 

“Napkins need to be refilled but I started the day by doing your job too.”

 

I looked out at the tables in the restaurant. The worn wood was polished to make it look bright and clean. 

 

“You’re certainly in a mood today. Janet kick you out again?” 

 

He went back to looking at his papers without saying a word. I looked up at the clock and saw that we still had 15 minutes until we opened. I went back into the supply closet and grabbed the napkins I needed for the holders.

 

“What was it this time?” I pestered “Went home drunk again?”

 

“I forget. Are you always this nosy?”

 

“It’s a small town. I have to get my gossip from some where.”

 

“True crime documentaries boring you?”

 

“Would you believe that they are? You see one you’ve kind of seen them all. A pint of ice cream and a bottle of wine don’t really make it much better.”

 

“You can afford a bottle of wine every time you watch them? I must be paying you too much.” 

 

“You never answered my question.”

 

“Sometimes I don’t have an answer for you.” 

 

“Is it bad?”

 

“Possibly.”

 

“Wait, really? I was just kidding.” I said a little flustered. “Everything okay?”

 

“It’ll pass.” 

 

“That bad!? What happened? Do we need to close the restaurant and drink about it?”

 

“Do you not want to work that bad?”

 

“This isn’t about me, this is about you.”

 

“I’m sure. We’ll talk about it later. Open the door please.” 

 

“You better!” I said turning to unlock the front door. A line of customers began filing in slowly. It was routine and everyone ordered the same thing. “Order up!” I shouted into the back while writing the names of the customers on the note pad.