Men of Perdition

by Kelly M. Hudson

  “Order up!” Aggie called from the kitchen. If he just had a bell he could bang with his spatula, Sadie thought, he could complete the stereotype.

  “You want the usual?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah,” Sadie said. For her, the usual was a burger and fries.

  Their eyes locked for a moment and Sadie’s heart went aflutter. Her breath came short and she prayed she could keep it together. And then the moment was over.

  “Burger and fries,” Sam said. He turned and grabbed three plates of steaming food sitting in the window and hustled them over to the family sitting in the back. She watched him, her eyes glued to his ass. She really loved the way he wore a pair of jeans. Her eyes flicked up and saw Burke staring at her, a lopsided grin on his face.

  “Careful,” Burke said. “You might start drooling.”

  Sadie’s face turned a deep red.

  “You really like him, don’t you?” he said.

  “What? Oh, he’s nice enough, I suppose,” she said. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand and propped up her head by putting her elbow on the counter.

  “You can’t fool me,” Burke said. “Lots of folks see it, you know. Sometimes we talk about it, when Sam ain’t around.”

  “Oh, God no,” Sadie said.

  Burke smiled. He sipped some coffee and smacked his lips together in satisfaction. “I don’t blame you at all. Anyone who makes coffee this good, hell, it might turn an old man like me into one of those San Francisco types, if you know what I mean.” Burke winked and Sadie laughed.

  “Seriously, though, we do talk about the two of you,” Burke said, twinkle firmly in eye. “And most folks, they like the idea of the two of you getting together.”

  “Really?” she said. She was getting a little angry to know so many people were interested in her love life. “Would they like a videotape of the proceedings? I mean, if they’re so curious and all.”

  Burke laughed again and shook his head. “Don’t get so hot. This is a small town. Those same people that I was talking with surely started talking about me as soon as I was gone. That’s just the way it is around here.”

  “I suppose,” she said. Sam arrived with her Coke and she grinned, Burke watching her every move. “Don’t do that,” Sadie said, as Sam walked off to wait on someone else. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “We all talked, and most of us, except for that biddy Charlotte Johnson, thought you two would make a fine couple,” Burke said.

  “Well, it ain’t nobody’s business but mine and Sam’s,” she said. She took another drink of her Coke and thought for a moment before turning to Burke. “What did Charlotte say, anyway?”

  Burke waved his hand in the air. “Oh, you know her. If Jesus ain’t involved somehow, then it ain’t sanctified by God. And if it ain’t sanctified by God, then it’s not right. And if it’s not right, then it’s not proper to talk about. And if it ain’t proper to talk about, then it’s gossip, and gossip’s a sin and on and on and on.”

  “Sounds like her,” Sadie said.

  “I told her that God didn’t have no business in what went on behind closed doors between two adults and she got fairly angry,” he said. “She stuck that big nose of hers in my face and called me a sinner. I smiled and told her anger was a sin,” Burke laughed. “Oh, you should have seen her face. I wish I had one of them phones that you could take pictures with, because I swear to my God she turned so purple she resembled a rutabaga. It was pretty damn funny.”

  “You don’t like her one bit, do you?” Sadie said, laughing along.

  “She’s a biddy and she goes sticking her nose in business where it don’t belong,” Burke said. “But anyways, that group I was with that was talking about you and Sam, we took a vote.”

  “You what?”

  “We took a vote and it passed, unanimous except for the biddy, that we were all in favor of you and Sam hitching your trains together,” Burke said. He sipped his coffee.

  “Let me get this straight: you and a bunch of other busybodies got together and had a vote to approve or disapprove me and Sam getting together?” Sadie said, her voice raised.

  “You voted about what?” Sam asked. He sauntered right over and smiled at Sadie and Burke. If she could’ve crawl up under that counter and done her best impression of a wad of chewed bubble gum, she would have.

  “Me and some concerned citizens got together and voted on whether you and Sadie here should start courting,” Burke said, his face the color of a pleased plum.

  “Burke!” Sadie gasped.

  “And what were the results of the vote?” Sam said.

  “We were unanimous, except for that biddy, Charlotte Johnson. She voted no,” Burke said.

  Sam nodded slowly. “Charlotte is a biddy. I think maybe I ought to spit in her coffee next time she comes in here.”

  “Nobody would cry a tear,” Burke said.

  Sam turned and looked at Sadie, whose face was so red she looked like she’d gone out sunbathing and fell asleep. For four straight days.

  “What do you think?” Sam said.

  “About what?” Sadie said, managing to speak around the lump in her throat.

  “You and me. Seems the town voted. We can’t ignore a near unanimous decision,” Sam said. He offered that easy smile again. Could this really be happening?

  “But, whatever will Charlotte Johnson say?” Sadie said.

  “We’ll go out, have a nice dinner, and then park in front of her house, get out, and commence to necking on her front lawn,” Sam said. She laughed.

  “I say yes, then. I mean, the town voted and all,” Sadie said.

  “Good,” Sam said. “I’ll pick you up around seven. Have a hungry stomach, okay?”

  She nodded. Sam turned as Aggie called another order up. He turned back and set Sadie’s burger and fries in front of her and scurried off to help some other customers. She took a bite of the burger and thought it was the best damn burger she’d ever had.

  She finished a bit later, never really getting to talk much more to Sam or Burke; she was just a little too flushed and embarrassed. She paid, left a nice tip, and walked to the front door. She turned to see Sam watching her and she gave him a little wave, turned beet red, and hurried out the door.

  The sunlight slapped her face, scorching after the air conditioning in the diner, but Sadie didn’t care. She didn’t even mind her dress sticking to her suddenly from that good old Kentucky humidity. No, she had her mind on other things, like what she was going to wear, and how she was going to pass the afternoon until her big date with Sam later on.

  She didn’t even mind when that chubby woman with the tight, permed hair busted out of the Sheriff’s Office, fit to be tied, and ran into her. The chubby lady glared at Sadie, her face red and puffy, and then wheeled and shook her fist at Sheriff Monroe, a large man with a generous belly, a crooked grin filled with tobacco juice, a pencil mustache, and big brown eyes.

  “You’ll regret this, Sheriff,” the chubby lady said.

  “Look here, Mrs. Collins,” he said.

  “It’s Ms. Collins, you fat bastard,” Mandy said. She shook her fist with more vigor. “I tried to explain this to you. My Daddy was a famous prophet back in West Virginia and he’s died now and his talents passed to me. We had a vision, Sheriff, a vision of something pure and evil coming to your little town. You got to let me talk to your people. They have to be warned.”

  Sadie’s mouth fell open as Sheriff Monroe shook his head. “I don’t care what you do,” he said. “You just got to have the proper permits.”

  “But with a kind word from you…” Mandy said.

  “Go take your troubles to the Mayor,” Sheriff Monroe said. When Mandy didn’t move, his hand fell to his revolver at his side. “Git!”

  Mandy backed away, still angry.

  “You’ll see, Sheriff. Evil is coming to this town. Evil! I am but a weatherman, pointing to the gathering thunderclouds. Heed my words, Sheriff, before it is too late.”

 
“Go on,” Sheriff Monroe said.

  Mandy turned, paused, and turned back around. “Which way to the Mayor’s Office?” she asked.

  Sheriff Monroe groaned like he had a sour stomach and the door to the toilet was locked.

  “You can follow me. I’m headed that way,” Sadie said. She put her hand on Mandy’s arm and steered her away from the police station. When they were out of ear shot, Sadie burst into laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” Mandy said.

  “You called him a fat bastard,” she said. Another giggle escaped from between her lips.

  Mandy smiled and blushed. “Please forgive my rude language.”

  “No, it’s true. He is fat, and he’s a bastard,” Sadie said. “I’ve been wanting to speak my mind to that prick for years now. But if I do, he’ll just come by my shop and make things miserable on me, talking about permits and whatnots.”

  “Oh,” Mandy said.

  “So, what were you talking about, to the sheriff?” Sadie said.

  Mandy hesitated. “I am given visions, from God.”

  “Okay,” Sadie said. She wasn’t sure what to make of what she’d just heard from this lady, about evil and visions from God, but she was still in such a terrific mood, she didn’t really care if this woman was crazy or not. She was interesting, and that was enough. They walked side by side down the street, passing Sadie’s shop and headed towards the Mayor’s Office.

  “What’s you’re name?” Mandy asked.

  “Sadie.”

  “There’s only one thing you need to know, Sadie, and it’s that the Lord speaks through me by my dreams and visions. He spoke to my Daddy and now he speaks through me. And the Lord our God said that evil was coming to your town, an evil most vile and despicable. I’ve come to prepare you, and to await more visions that will show you the way to deal with the evil,” Mandy said.

  “I see,” Sadie said. So the lady was nuts. Oh, well. She pointed at the Mayor’s Office. “The building you want is over there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What is your name again?”

  “Mandy Collins,” Mandy said. “I do not mean to be so angry nor so forward, but having such visions is a burden on my soul. And there is trouble coming, Sadie. It is best you heed the word of God and make yourself right with the savior.”

  “I’ll do that,” Sadie said. “Good luck in your mission.”

  Sadie waved at Mandy and walked back to her store, turning back once to watch as Mandy strode with confidence into the Mayor’s Office. If Sadie knew the Mayor at all, Mandy would be out on her ass and then the sheriff would be involved again and that poor old crazy lady might end up in the jail for the night.

  What a strange woman. She had to be nuts. Sadie believed in God, she went to the Baptist church every Sunday, but as far as evil and visions and that sort of thing, she just didn’t get behind all of that. Those were things written about in the bible but they weren’t taking place now. Still, what Mandy said sent a shiver through her. She thought of Sam and all those bad feelings suddenly evaporated like a popsicle laying out in the hot sun.

  Sam had asked her out!

  She had to get home, right away, and get ready.

  Sadie bypassed her store and jumped into her car, visions of the night to come dancing in her head. But playing on the fringes of her mind was Mandy’s dire warning, like dark fingers picking at a scab.

  III

  Sam

  Sam leaned over the counter and winked at Burke.

  “Good work,” he said.

  “Wasn’t a thing,” Burke said. “I really fooled her with the whole ‘survey’ bit.”

  “Hell, you mortified me, Burke,” Sam said. “I thought you were telling the truth.”

  “Nah. You know, people have been talking, but there ain’t been any vote taken that I know of,” Burke said. He finished his coffee and smacked his lips together. “The kicker, though, was adding that part about Charlotte Johnson being a biddy.”

  “She is, though.”

  “My point exactly. That little truthful nugget thrown on top sold the whole damn thing,” Burke said.

  “You’re a good liar, Burke,” Sam said.

  “The best,” He dug in his pocket. “How much do I owe you for lunch, sir?”

  Sam held up his hand. “On the house. You earned it.”

  “Careful now, Sam. You reward a liar and next thing you know, he takes to lying for a living.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Sam said.

  Burke grinned and turned as he walked to the front door. “Anytime you need my help for anything, you just let me know, you hear?”

  “Same back at you,” Sam said.

  Burke left with a wave. That old man had been a family friend since Sam could remember. Him and his father had run moonshine together back when they were just teenagers and had been best friends ever since. Sam had grown up with Burke being like an uncle, and Burke had been his one constant through it all—the passing of his folks and the funeral for Sam’s own wife and child.

  He paused, hands full of dirty dishes. A day didn’t go by, even now, when he didn’t think of Eileen and Steve. And when those moments happened, it was like no time had passed since the day he woke up in his car, untouched, the dead bodies of his wife and son crushed against the tree he’d crashed into. It was a fresh wound, even after all this time. But though the pain never lessened, the frequency of it did. He didn’t spend every moment in mourning, questioning God and why he’d allow such a horrible thing to happen to such good people. Not like he used to. Now he only did it when he rose in the morning and laid his head on his pillow at night and those odd, random moments in-between.

  “Order up!” Aggie called, jolting him from his stupor. Aggie. If there was ever a poster child on how not to deal with a crisis in your life, it was him. Sam took Aggie on back when he was remodeling the place, as much out of pity for the town drunk as to have some company, someone who understood. Aggie had lost his wife, too. The funny thing was, they never talked about it to each other. They worked hard and stood by each other’s side, but that was it. Never compared notes, never got together over coffee. Aggie was somebody who was just going to help Sam rebuild the place and then move on, before Sam discovered he could cook like a bastard. They had a quiet respect for each other, and he knew, deep down, that they were brothers in their loss, even if they never spoke of it. Burke got along famously with Aggie, even to the point of giving him a place to stay. Burke. Sam smiled. He was lucky to have those two good people in his life.

  He hustled the dirty dishes into the kitchen and set them in the sink full of hot, soapy water to soak. He rinsed his hands and went back out and took the order of food over to Tom Arthur’s table. They all met him with grins as their food, nice and hot, was set before them. He glanced over and saw the Mayor and his entourage had finished and left the money for their bill on the table. No tip, of course, because the Mayor was a rotten penny-pincher when it came to his own money. Blow the town’s money on stupid crap like new drapes for the Mayor’s Office, though, and he knew no expense too great to spend.

  He cleaned off their table, pocketing the money, as the family in the back booth passed him, making their way to the front door. The father, a skinny guy that looked like he was barely twenty years old, nodded his head to Sam and told him the food was good and thanks for the music. Sam thanked him for coming and went to bus that table, as well.

  The man had left a ten dollar tip. Now, that was class.

  It was turning into quite a day for him. A nice tip, some good business, and he’d finally asked Sadie out. As he carried the dishes to the back and dumped them to soak, he shook his head slowly.

  Was he doing the right thing? He’d known Sadie was interested in him for a while now, but he never pursued it because he wasn’t comfortable with dating anyone yet. Or so he told himself. It was a good excuse until last week when Burke came in and read him the riot act. Five years was enough, Burke said. It was time to get out
there, do some dating, and have a life.

  He had to admit, Burke had been right. He was thirty-seven now and it was past time to get serious about living again. There’d been a long year of being numb, of watching the world go on around him and not feeling a thing towards it or anyone in it. The next year brought the pain, the anxieties, the recriminations, and the guilt. Oh, God, the guilt. It was too much. He used to long for the numbness to return. The next year he settled down and began to climb out of the depression, in no small part to buying this abandoned property and turning it into a diner. He’d sunk days and months to building it up into what he wanted it to be. Six months later, Drake’s Diner was open for business and he’d been busy as hell since. But the anger still burned in his heart and it never left, really; it only got a little less hot and a little easier to deal with each passing day.

  He looked out of the window from the kitchen into the dining area. His eyes froze on a plaque he’d had put on the wall, a picture of Eileen and Steve, hugging, after one of Steve’s T-Ball games. He could remember the day he took the picture like it was just five minutes ago. For a second, the heat of the sun and the smell of the fresh-cut grass and the roasting hot dogs filled his senses and Sam was back there again, if only for a moment.

  A precious moment.

  “Order up!” Aggie yelled. He looked over at the wiry old man, standing over a griddle of sizzling bacon and burgers, skinny and tough as a wart on an old lady’s heel.

  “Better get it in gear, boss! Folks are waiting out there!” Aggie said. He turned back to his cooking.

  Drake’s Diner was open from 11:00 in the morning until 4:00 in the afternoon, Monday through Saturday. They were closed nights and Sundays because most people in town had their suppers at home so there wasn’t any real reason to stay open any later.