A bell jingled as I walked
through the door into the dim diner. An old screen door squealed behind
me and shut with a bang. Nobody’s going to sneak up on these folks.
The Last Chance Café was the
only place in town to get a meal. That’s what the guy at Gus’s Gas told
me, anyway. The only other establishment, he said, was Carl’s Bad
Tavern, but the only food they offered was pretzels.
I took a seat on a squeaky
Naugahyde booth that used to be crimson, but now was faded in spots and
patched with duct tape.
“What can I get you, hon?” a
busty redhead asked. Of course she was popping gum. What is this place
“I’ll take the special. Fried
“Yep. With mashed ‘taters and
coleslaw. Anything to drink?”
I really wanted water, but
wasn’t sure I trusted the water to be drinkable. “Coke, please.”
I shifted in the seat and peered
out the window. “What in the world?” I jumped from my seat to get a
closer look. “What is that on my car?”