Chat Freak

by Terry Brown

  They were ready to order, and Morgan wrote quickly. “That’s three breakfast specials with pancakes coming in a few minutes,” she said, leaving the juniors to their fun and trudging off to the kitchen.

  As ten o’clock approached, Morgan kept a sharp eye on the clock. At 9:55, she took one last look at her booths, and then decided the dirty dishes could wait a minute. The breakfast crowd was thin, and the lunch crowd wouldn’t arrive till nearly eleven. Giving tickets to the last three groups in her booths, Morgan scanned the restaurant to make sure her friends were busy, then snuck down the hallway to her dad’s office and logged on.

  Welcome to TodaysGirls.com! loaded in bright purple and magenta. She skipped past Amber’s Thought for the Day and clicked to create a private chat. Alex wasn’t there yet, but it was still one minute before ten.

  Morgan tapped her fingernails on the desk, drumming a steady rhythm. Come on, Alex, I don’t have much time, she thought, one ear alert for sounds from out front. She had three booths yet to bus, and she ought to be washing dishes in the kitchen to get ready for lunch.

  While waiting, she clicked Amber’s Thought for the Day open again:

  All people have sinned and are not good enough for God’s glory. People are made right with God by his grace, which is a free gift. They are made right with God by being made free from sin through Jesus Christ. Romans 3:23-24

  Got freedom? When you think about yourself, are you free? I mean really free? Do it God’s way!

  Freedom?Morgan shook her head. When was the last time she’d felt free? She yawned widely, leaned her chin on her palm, and closed her eyes wearily. If only she could take a nap. Three minutes passed, then five, then six. Alex, where are you? she worried.

  Just then, Morgan heard footsteps coming down the hall. She ducked as Jamie raced by the door on the way to the rest room, but she wasn’t fast enough. Jamie halted in her tracks and stared open-mouthed into the office. “You’re online ? Please! We’re swamped out there!” She hit her forehead with her open palm. “This is your family restaurant, you know.”

  “I’m coming,” Morgan muttered, exiting the private chat room. I’m sorry, Alex, she said silently. “I’m sorry, Jamie,” she said aloud. “It’s just that—”

  But Jamie had already disappeared, and Morgan heard the click of the rest room door locking. Morgan knew her soft-spoken friend had to be steamed to talk like that. Pressured by guilt, Morgan hurried out front.

  She grabbed an empty dish tub and raced from booth to booth, stacking dirty dishes and cups into her plastic tub. The tips were surprisingly good for a Monday crowd, she thought as she scooped dollar bills into her apron pocket. On the way past the register, she added her tips to what was already filling the tip cup on the counter. At the Gnosh, everyone pooled their tips, and then split them equally at the end of the day. I’d better not take any today, Morgan thought, not after being caught online when she was supposed to be working.

  Back in the kitchen, she rinsed her dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Benny stood at the center island, watching her from beneath bushy, unruly eyebrows, as he sliced croissants for sandwiches. He wore very short white socks in worn leather loafers and khaki shorts year-round, showing broken blue veins on the back of his knees. He was no fashion plate, Morgan thought, but he was a great cook.

  Just then, Jamie rushed in and set a dish tub full of dirty dishes on the counter.

  “I’m sorry about being online a while ago,” Morgan began.

  “This is really getting out of hand and—”

  “Wait!” Morgan interrupted. “I understand how you feel, but I wanted to tell you what I was checking.” Just then, Amber came into the kitchen with another load of dirty dishes. As they scraped and washed, Morgan filled them in on meeting last_wish and her desire to see him and his mom receive hundreds—even thousands—of cards with dollar bills in them.

  “Oh, Morgan, that’s sweet of you to care,” Amber said, “but it could be a scam, don’t you think?”

  Benny grunted his agreement and twitched his gray-flecked mustache. Morgan’s eyes opened wide. She’d expect that kind of reaction from their surly cook, but she was shocked that Amber wouldn’t want to help last_wish.

  “I don’t understand,” Morgan said quietly. “I mean it’s not like it was his idea, not really. In fact, he didn’t think it would work because his mom didn’t want charity. She prefers working double shifts at some factory to pay the doctor bills.”

  “So you posted ads on bulletin boards about this without telling him?”

  Morgan nodded eagerly. “I got fourteen responses already this morning. People really do care. And I want to put a donation box out front.”

  Amber got quiet. “Well,” she finally said, “I guess it can’t hurt to set up a donation box by the register. Your dad does that sometimes for other causes.” She opened two cupboard doors before she found the bright red box she was looking for. “Here. Put this by the register with a sign about last_wish.”

  “Thanks!”

  “Hey,” Jamie piped up, “we could donate part of our tips at the end of the day—that is, if everyone’s willing.”

  “Really?” Morgan grinned at her friends. “I know that anything at all we can do will be appreciated. His dad left them when he got cancer, and if they had some financial help now his mom would be able to work just one shift and be home with her son—while he’s still here.”

  Amber nodded. “We forget how blessed we are sometimes,” she said. “If we can’t help this boy and his family at Easter, when can we? But about being online, Morgan: This is work. So can you please not check your mail while stuff still needs to be done?”

  Just then, the bell over the front door rang, and Morgan hurried out front, setting the red donation box by the cash register. Jared and Ty had just slid into a freshly cleaned booth where the table was still damp. “Hi, guys. Wuzzup?”

  “That’s what we’d like to know.” Jared smiled, but his eyes were flashing. “Remember us?”

  Tyler glanced up at Morgan, and then turned to study the salt and pepper shakers.

  Just then, it hit her. “Oh, man, I’m sorry, you guys. Things were so busy Saturday I forgot about our meeting.”

  “Again.” Jared patted the pile of papers he’d laid on the table. “We went ahead and got some done, but we can only do so much when missing practically half the group. We don’t want to do it all.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry,” Morgan repeated. Man, I spend half my life apologizing, she thought. Every time she turned around, it seemed that she’d let another friend down.

  “Luckily, we still have a week.” Ty spoke for the first time. “If Muhammad won’t come to the mountain, the mountain will come to Muhammad.”

  “What?” Morgan frowned.

  “Nothing.”

  “Um, did you guys want to order lunch or anything?”

  “Can’t.” Jared handed her a file folder full of papers. “I have to meet Coach in twenty minutes at the church. We’re repainting some room in the basement to make a bigger nursery.”

  “I gotta go, too.” Ty unfolded his gangly legs, slid out of the booth, and stood.

  As they walked out, Morgan pointed to the donation box and told them what she planned. “Dump your loose change in here. I’m getting a basket set up today too, for the cards and money when they start coming in. Jamie even wants to donate some of our tip money,” she said, nodding at the cup on the counter.

  “I guess you have been busy,” Jared admitted. “We’ll call you to get together, for real this time.”

  “Sounds good. Sorry about forgetting again. Talk later.” Morgan waved.

  Around four o’clock, Coach pushed open the front door and trudged in, covered in paint splatters from the top of his thinning hair, down the front of the T-shirt barely covering his stomach, to where little drips had landed on his tennis shoes.

  “Nursery get painted?” Morgan asked, setting a glass of water in front of him.

 
“How’d you know about that?”

  “Jared was in before noon.”

  “Yup, we’re done.” He leaned back in the booth and heaved a loud sigh of relief. “Just wanted to let you know that when I got home, my wife said Maya had called to check in. She got to New York just fine.”

  “She called you instead?” Morgan was surprised how hurt she felt.

  “She said she’d tried here for over an hour, but kept getting a busy signal.” He looked at her quizzically. “Were you girls gabbing on the phone instead of working?”

  Morgan blinked and pretended to be thinking. “No. No, I’m sure no one was talking on the phone.” But I forgot to reconnect the phone after trying to find Alex in the chat room this morning, she thought. After taking Coach’s order for a double-size fries, she pretended to go to the rest room, but dashed into her dad’s office instead. In fifteen seconds, she had the phone reconnected. Sighing, she thought about Maya in New York. Her family suddenly seemed so very far away.

  Later, after Coach left and they’d cleaned everything out front, Morgan convinced Jamie and Amber to go on home. Benny had left without a word an hour ago. “I’ll stay and finish. Since we’re closing at five this week, I won’t be late. I really don’t mind.” It was the least she could do after being online during work hours and leaving the phone disconnected all day. She just hoped they hadn’t missed any other important phone calls.

  Amber and Jamie finished wiping down the counter. “How much of our tips should we donate?” Jamie asked, reaching across the register for the cup of money. However, when she lifted it up, all that was left inside were a few pennies. “Where’d our tips go?” she asked. “Morgan, I said we could donate part of it to your dying friend, but I can’t afford to donate it all.”

  “But I didn’t take any yet,” Morgan said, looking at the few cents. “Honest.”

  She turned toward Amber. “Don’t look at me. I just put money in today. I didn’t take it out.” Amber and Jamie turned toward Morgan.

  “Really, I didn’t take it!” Morgan said.

  The next few seconds passed in bewildered silence. Then Amber said, “We know you wouldn’t. It’s gotta be somewhere.” She yawned and stretched. “In the meantime, I’m heading home. I’ve got the cash bag to deposit, in case your dad happens to ask. Coming, Jamie?”

  Jamie nodded. “See you at home, Morgan. Thanks for closing.” Morgan locked the door behind them when they left.

  Only after Morgan watched Amber’s car drive away did she remember the backpack and suitcase she was going to have to haul to Jamie’s house. She groaned, but forced herself to begin refilling the sugar containers, then the salt and pepper shakers. She filled the silverware tub, restocked the glass case with candy and mints, and washed the large plate-glass window. Ignoring her pounding headache, she mopped the floor.

  At last, Morgan stood in the middle of the deserted restaurant. All was silent. And she felt utterly, completely alone.

  chapter. 8

  As soon as Morgan opened the door of the Gnosh on . Tuesday morning, the noise of the breakfast rush hit her. It was only 8:30, but dishes and silverware already clattered. Voices blared. After being online answering questions about last_wish until 2:00 A.M., she’d given Jamie her key that morning to open up at 8:00. Already laughter erupted around the sunny room.

  “Phew.” Amber handed Morgan some silverware wrapped in paper napkins. “I was starting to get worried. Booth number eight needs setup.” Amber swiped her forehead with the back of her hand, then ripped off a sheet from her order pad and handed it to Morgan without looking. “We’ve been swamped. I appreciate you closing last night, but please remember that I’m new to serving.”

  “Sorry.” When Morgan turned, she spotted a familiar face in a booth. Coach waved her over.

  “What’s up?” Morgan asked while setting up the booth right behind him.

  “That’s my line.” Coach pointed to the donation box and her sign that read: “Make a dying boy’s last wish come true!”

  “Oh, that. I’m collecting money to help a friend.”

  “What friend? Why?” asked Coach.

  “I met a kid on the Net who has cancer. His screen name is last_wish because he’s dying. They’ve tried everything, but even the chemo didn’t work.”

  Coach Short drummed his stubby fingers on the table. “Honey, people can . . . well . . . alter the truth when writing online.”

  “I know, but he’s not lying, Coach. I’ve gotten to know him. And he’s worried about leaving his mom. It’s just the two of them, so she’ll be alone. She works double shifts, but his medical bills have left them broke.”

  “So you put up a donation box?” Coach asked.

  “Plus I asked for cards. I want a million people to send cards and put one dollar inside each card—”

  “A million dollars?” Coach roared. “You’re trying to raise a million dollars for someone you met on the Internet?”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised at you. You’re a nice man. I thought you’d like the idea.”

  “Strangers won’t send you money for some kid they don’t know,” Coach said. “For that matter, they don’t know you either. Anyway, he sounds like a con artist to me, Morgan.”

  “But he’s not! It was my idea about the cards and money. It’s going to be a surprise, to put his mind at ease about his mom when he dies.” Irritated with herself, Morgan felt tears welling up. “I just want to help.”

  Coach just rolled his eyes.

  Jamie stopped at Coach’s booth. “Sorry to interrupt, but we need a roll of nickels and quarters, Morgan. Can you get it?”

  “Sure.” Glad to escape, Morgan slid out of the booth and raced to the office for more change from the metal box in the bottom desk drawer. She grabbed the money, shut the box, then couldn’t resist quickly logging on. She just wanted to count the number of e-mails from people who’d promised to send her money and cards. That would give Coach an idea of how caring most people were about last_wish’s condition.

  She was still sorting and counting when Jamie rushed into the office. “Morg, do you have the—Morgan! We really need you to work right now.” She pointed to the computer. “Please, can that wait?”

  “Hey, Jamie.” Amber popped her head into the office. “Where do we keep the children’s menus?” She looked at Morgan. “What are you doing? It’s filling up out there.”

  “I’m coming.”

  For the next hour Morgan waited on tables, chatting with the “regulars,” always bringing the conversation around to her last_wish box. “I’m helping raise money for him and his family,” she told customers. “So any spare change you could donate would be helpful.”

  “Could you please back off just a bit?” Jamie whispered when she and Morgan were behind the counter. “People will see the red box by the register. That’s enough.”

  “All right. Well, since it’s slowed down, I’m taking my break now. Alex wants to chat at ten.”

  “At least today Morgan’s taking work breaks from her chatting.” Amber winked at her. “That’s progress.”

  “It’s not that bad.” Morgan headed to the office.

  Hopefully Alex had received yesterday’s e-mail and was waiting for her already. She pulled the desk chair close, switched the phone jack, and logged on. Clicking on her e-mail account, Morgan found twenty-one total messages! She scrolled down quickly.

  Still no message from ANNA, Morgan noticed. She didn’t want ANNA to think she’d forgotten her. She clicked on the New Message icon and wrote:

  Long time since you wrote. You OK? I know it might be tough, but stand your ground with your mom. You’re in charge of your own life!

  Then Morgan clicked to the TodaysGirls.com Web site and read Amber’s Thought for the Day:

  Happy Easter week! We are so lucky!!

  Jesus came here just for us . . . and all we have to do is believe that he died for our sins and accept him into our hearts. He is risen! So we can have new lif
e!

  Then, by believing, you can have life through his name. John 20:31

  Morgan didn’t understand most of the verses Amber posted, but a new life sure sounded inviting. Morgan pondered the meaning, and then clicked the chat icon.

  TX2step: U there?

  jellybean: yup. so what’s been going on down there?

  TX2step: i’m fit to be tied. big fights since dad lost another job. I hate the screaming so bad!

  jellybean: did he, well . . .

  TX2step: what?

  jellybean: u no. hit anybody like before. r u OK?

  TX2step: he just threw some stuff, but no one got hurt. I miss grandpa and grandma and my cat. I like peace and quiet more than I thought.

  jellybean: i’m sorry! anything I can do?

  Before Alex could answer, Amber called down the hall. “Morgan, please hurry! We need assistance!”

  “Is the phone free?” Jamie added. “Benny needs to call for a bread delivery!”

  jellybean: i’m sorry. Benny needs the phone.

  TX2step: food service duty. lucky U

  jellybean: sum1’s gotta do it. hang in there!

  TX2step: no other choice. L8R

  Morgan closed the chat room. She started to log off the Internet, but decided to check her e-mail one last time . . . and finally a message had appeared in her in-box from ANNA! But when she began reading, her breath quickened and her fingers froze on the keyboard. The message wasn’t from ANNA. It was from ANNA’s mother:

  Dear “jellybean,” I know you have been writing to my daughter, Anna, and I thought you should know the damage you’ve done. Anna has been denying that she had an eating disorder for nearly a year, despite the fact that she is now under 85 pounds, her hair is falling out, she shivers constantly, and she never sleeps. She is literally starving herself to death before our very eyes. Before you first wrote to her, her counselor had finally gotten her to agree to hospitalization. Now, however, she is convinced (by you) that she’s perfectly normal and her parents are the problem. She has refused to go into treatment now. Anna’s in serious danger because you gave advice without knowing the whole situation. Please think twice before you do it again. Marilyn