Vinnie's Diner

by Jennifer AlLee

  Vinnie points at the radio. “Listen.”

  A buzzing whine comes from the speakers. Then a voice.

  “I know why she pushed you away.”

  I shut my eyes against what I’m hearing. How can Aunt Bobbie do this?

  “You do?” Jake sounds surprised and relieved at the same time. “Why?”

  There’s a sad sigh before she continues. “She didn’t want to tell you about her past. She was afraid if you knew, you’d hate her.”

  “Hate her? Why? What did she do that was so terrible?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “But—”

  “No. That’s up to her. If . . . when she wakes up, she can tell you herself. I just thought you should know, it’s not because she doesn’t love you. If anything, she loves you too much.”

  The only sound I hear for a while is the blipping of the medical equipment. What are they doing in there?

  “She’s a new creature.” Jake’s voice is low. Certain.

  “What?” Aunt Bobbie’s voice is barely a whisper.

  “I don’t care what she did. It’s over. It’s passed away. I’ve got some pretty unpleasant stuff in my past, too. But none of it matters. What matters is who we are today.”

  I feel something warm against my ear, then hear Jake’s whispered voice. “Why didn’t you know that?”

  The radio hums again and the volume lowers until it’s little more than a buzz in the background.

  “It sounds like Jake can handle the truth.”

  “He thinks he can. But he still doesn’t know me. You heard him.” My finger trembles as I point it at the radio. “He still believes I’m a sweet Christian girl. What’s he going to think when he finds out I’ve been pretending all this time?”

  Vinnie lets out a sigh so deep it could have come from his toes. “The truth is, I don’t know how Jake will react. To any of it. And neither do you. But you need to give him a chance.”

  I move my head in a tired, dejected shake. “And what if he turns out to be like all the others?”

  “Which others?”

  “The church folks who talk about forgiveness, but don’t know what it really means. Or worse.”

  Vinnie cocks his head to the side. “What could be worse?”

  I turn away, dropping my gaze to the floor. There, under the table, I see the photos that I discarded earlier. Stretching out one arm, I anchor them with my fingertips and push them across the tile to Vinnie. “What if I tell him everything and he says he still loves me, but then it turns out he’s just like these guys?”

  He picks up the pictures, fans them out, nods. “The step-fathers and boyfriends.”

  “I never knew my real father so I can’t say about him, but the rest of them . . . not one of them liked me. And they sure didn’t love me.” There had been so many times I had tried, in my simple, childish way, to win them over: smiles, hugs, being overly polite, staying out of their way. I even risked losing a finger feeding food off my own plate to Shooter’s evil dog. But none of it had worked. They all walked away. My mother cried because they left her. But what nobody seemed to realize was every time one walked away from my mother, he walked away from me, too.

  I clamp my teeth together, locking my jaws against a wave of emotion. I force myself to inhale deeply, hold on to my composure. I will not cry over any of them.

  “You had a difficult time with these men, that’s for sure.” Vinnie holds up the two halves of the picture of Ethan. “But this one was the worst of all, wasn’t he?”

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

  By the time Ethan came around, I’d convinced myself that I’d only get hurt if I trusted another man. So I held back. I didn’t want to like Ethan, or to give him a chance. But Ethan wouldn’t give up. He was sweet and funny. He paid attention to me. Slowly, he wormed his way into my affections until he became my great hope. By the time they got married, I truly believed he loved my mother and me in an honest, pure way. This one, I convinced myself, was real. This one would last forever. I loved him with my whole heart, and I trusted him. But everything he pretended to be was a lie.

  “I trusted Ethan. And when he . . . when he tried to . . .” I can’t say the words, but Vinnie nods, encouraging me to go on. “When that happened, he destroyed that trust.”

  My teeth sink into the inside of my bottom lip. It’s getting harder to breath, to talk. Vinnie reaches out to me again, puts his hand on my arm. Warmth radiates through my body, and a sense of relief floods over me. Finally, he’s going to lead me through this. Maybe I’m not as alone as I thought I was.

  “You didn’t just lose your trust in him,” Vinnie says softly.

  “No.”

  “You were determined never to trust another man again.”

  “Yes. But then Cody . . .” My composure cracks. A sob slips out, but I swallow it back. “I was so stupid. I knew better, but I thought he loved me.” After Cody, I never let myself trust, never let myself love. I used men, just like they used me. Period.

  “But Jake’s not Ethan. He’s not Cody. He’s not any of those men.”

  “I know. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I fell in love with Jake. I really love him. And if I were to trust him and then find out that he was no different than the others . . .”

  It would kill me.

  “So you rejected him before he could betray you. Just like you’ve done with every other man since Cody.”

  Vinnie’s sad words break me. I let the sobs come. They roll out, convulsing through the space between us. He reaches out, gathers me in his arms, and holds me while I cry.

  I don’t know how long we stay like this. Seconds? Minutes? In this unorthodox place, it could be days. But rather than sap more strength from me, each sob energizes me. Each tear builds me up. And when no more tears will come, I edge away and sit back. He hands me a square white handkerchief with a fancy “V” embroidered in one corner. I wipe at my eyes and nose. Then I look past him, blink, and take in the room.

  “The diner got bigger.” There are two stools at the counter now, and the lights seem a little brighter.

  Vinnie pats my arm. “You’ve faced the thing you fear the most. You’re stronger now.”

  I glance up at the table. The chest is gone. I settle my head back against the booth and take in a strong, clear breath. We did it. I have no secrets left, nothing more to hide. The journey is over. Each one of my muscles begins to loosen, and I slump into a wonderfully relaxed state.

  BAM!

  The front door bursts open with such force that I jump where I’m sitting, muscles once more tightly clenched, on the alert for what’s coming next. There’s no music this time. There’s just a tall man with long, pale hair and a long, black coat, standing in the open doorway. His face is not as gaunt as before, but I recognize him right away.

  It’s the stranger from the park.

  He claps his hands together in a slow, staccato beat. The sound reverberates through the diner like a twenty-one gun salute. “What a touching, sickeningly sweet scene this is.”

  Vinnie is instantly on his feet, turning himself into a barrier between me and the man. “You are not welcome here.” My affable guardian angel bristles, growling like a wolf protecting his territory.

  The man puts one hand to his chest, his long fingers splaying out over his heart. “Vincent, you hurt me. You really do. I know better than to break the rules.” He folds his fingers into a fist and raps it against the door frame. “Behold, I stand at your door and knock.”

  The tone of his voice is as sweet and enticing as it was in the park, but the cadence, the rhythm, is mocking. I lean around Vinnie’s leg to get a better look at him. He keeps knocking his knuckles on the wood, but it’s me he’s paying attention to. His eyes lock onto mine and his lips curl.

  Vinnie reaches down and puts his hand on top of my head. “What do you want, Ba’al?”

  A shiver convulses through me. I’ve heard that name before. And not just in the Bible story
about the showdown between the prophet Elijah and the priests of Ba’al. This is the kind of obscure fact that can trip up your average trivia buff, which is why I’ve made it a point to study the worship practices of ancient cultures.

  The facts I’ve accumulated about him flip through my mind like flash cards. Seen by some as a god, Ba’al worship included ritual sex acts meant to arouse him into bringing rain to the land. The early Christians called him a false god, and therefore a demon. And there were those who believed he held a place of power in Hell, a kind of duke with legions of demons under his command. Of course, I’d always considered the stories to be myths, holding no greater weight than Mother Goose rhymes or fairy tales. But now, here he is. And I’m almost in the same room with him.

  He doesn’t answer Vinnie’s question. He just keeps knocking, the same monotonous beat, and staring at me.

  Vinnie repeats himself, louder this time. “What do you want?”

  Ba’al’s fist stalls against the door frame. His eyes burrow into mine, cutting through me like a flame thrower cutting through ice. Finally, he unfolds a bony finger and points it straight at my chest.

  “I want her.”

  25

  Vinnie’s Diner

  He wants me?

  There’s a demon in the doorway, and he wants me?

  I look up at Vinnie, my guardian angel, my protector. I wait for him to hurl a lightning bolt at Ba’al, or make the ground open up and swallow him, or turn him into a pig.

  Something.

  Anything.

  But Vinnie does nothing.

  Ba’al squats down, and his coat pools around him in a big, black circle. Even though he’s still across the room, we’re at eye level now and I feel like he’s right in front of me. He shoots a quick glance at Vinnie, then looks back at me. “I bet you’re wondering why angel-boy isn’t doing anything to stop me.”

  Yes, I am. But I’m not comfortable nearly being in the same room with a demon. I certainly don’t want to speak to one. So I nod instead.

  Ba’al sneers. “He’s not trying to stop me because he can’t.”

  He’s got to be lying. I look up at Vinnie. “Is that true?”

  Vinnie frowns, but doesn’t take his eyes off Ba’al. “Right now, yes. It’s true.”

  I take hold of the corner of the seat and pull myself to my feet. Ba’al rises, too. I grab Vinnie’s arm. “But you’re my guardian angel. You’re supposed to protect me. Can’t you just smite him or something?”

  Vinnie turns slightly, still keeping his body between me and Ba’al. “There are rules, Allie. He can’t come in here, but I can’t keep him from talking to you.”

  “And he can’t stop you from leaving with me, either.”

  Ba’al’s statement shocks me out of my fear of talking to him. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”

  He levels a finger at Vinnie. “Because there are things going on right now, outside of this diner, that your protector hasn’t told you about. Things you deserve to know.”

  “You’re lying,” I bark at him. Vinnie wouldn’t betray me. I know he wouldn’t.

  Ba’al shrugs. “That’s always a possibility. There’s only one way you can know for sure.” He looks confident as he turns his eyes to Vinnie. “Why don’t you ask him?”

  I almost don’t. I’m more afraid of asking this question than just about anything else I’ve done since I walked away from my rolled car. Because if Ba’al is telling me the truth, Vinnie’s answer could change everything. But I can’t leave it alone. I have to know.

  “Is what he’s saying true?” I ask Vinnie. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”

  Without even a second of hesitation, he answers me. “Yes.”

  A hiss escapes from between Ba’al’s clenched teeth. “Ooo, that’s gotta hurt. Here you are, thinking you finally found someone you can trust, an angel no less, and he turns out to be just like all those other lying sacks of . . .” The words trail off, and he smiles smugly. He puts a hand on either side of the door frame and hangs his body as far in as he can without actually stepping over the threshold. “Turns out the angel is just like the rest of the men you’ve known.”

  His words attack me like a terrible poisonous snake wrapping itself around my heart and squeezing, squeezing, squeezing it tight. After all the time I’ve spent here with Vinnie, everything I’ve gone through with him beside me, I had been sure that I could trust him. But now . . .

  Vinnie lays his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t listen to him, Allie. He’s a master at manipulating the truth to suit his own purposes.”

  Ba’al shakes his head, making his hair sway listlessly, resembling dry stalks of wheat in a parched field. “There you go again, Vincent, casting aspersions on my character. She doesn’t have to take my word for it.” He zeroes in on me again. “Listen for yourself, and make your own decision.”

  He jerks his head toward the radio and the volume blares.

  “What are you saying?” I recognize my mother’s voice. It’s tight with strain and frustration. I know how she feels.

  “The situation isn’t good.” A female voice. I don’t recognize this one. Probably a nurse or a doctor. She continues speaking, her words peppered with complicated medical jargon. From that and her authoritative tone, I decide she’s definitely a doctor. “She’s gone into cardiac arrest once already. If it happens again, we might not be able to bring her back.”

  I hear a gasp and a whimper. Mom’s not the whimpering type, which means Aunt Bobbie’s in the room, too.

  The doctor clears her throat. “Then there’s the spinal injury.”

  Spinal injury?

  “We won’t be sure how severe that is until she comes out of the coma.”

  Coma? “Just how far did I roll my car?” I shout into the speakers, hoping again that somehow, someone will hear me. Of course, nobody does. I don’t even manage to garner a comment on my heart rate.

  Ba’al jerks his head again and the volume becomes a whisper, an indistinguishable background noise like the whining of a mosquito. “Amazing what a difference a shoulder belt makes.”

  I back away from the radio, squeezing my eyes tight. I’d been able to afford my car because it was old, and therefore cheap. I also bought it from a private party, not a dealer, so it was somewhat lacking in safety features. It only had lap belts. Jake told me more than once that I should get new belts put in, but I never wanted to spend the extra money.

  “So now you know,” Ba’al says in his sing-song way. “You may never walk again, and you could have brain damage. Seems like your good friend Vinnie should have shared all that with you.” He spits out Vinnie’s name like it’s something dirty that he can’t wait to get out of his mouth.

  I feel a little dirty myself. Vinnie should have told me. I should have heard news like that from him, not from someone like Ba’al. Even though Ba’al looks better than he did in the park, I know he is sleazy, slimy . . . evil. I know it. But he’s telling me what I want to hear. He’s sharing information with me, which is more than my angel did.

  Ba’al pushes himself away from the door frame and rubs his hands together. “I’m done waiting here. Alexandra, your future is bleak. But I can help you. I can tell you what you want to know. And I can make your earthly pain go away.” He pauses, giving that time to sink in. “When you’re ready to talk, come outside. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  He leaves. The door swings shut behind him. The diner is once more quiet, peaceful. Vinnie turns around, giving me his full attention. His shoulders are pulled back, and his lips are set in a thin, straight line. This is the most serious he’s been since we met.

  I look past him to the closed door. Now that Ba’al’s gone and I don’t have to look him in the face, it’s a little easier to think. Maybe talking to him isn’t such a bad idea. It’s not like I’m going to give my soul to the guy. I just have to get the information I need.

  I look from the door, to Vinnie, to the door, and back to Vinnie again. So. I
have a choice to make. I can stay here in the diner with my angel and hope that everything works out.

  Or I can go outside and maybe learn everything I want to know. From a demon.

  26

  Vinnie’s Diner

  “I never lied to you.”

  At Vinnie’s earnest words I give him my full attention again. Sadness and resolve are reflected on his face. I get the feeling he disagrees with what I’m going to do, yet he’s not going to try and stop me. Some friend he is.

  I cross my arms hard over my chest and blow out a sharp breath. “You may not have lied outright, but you’ve been keeping things from me. Why didn’t you tell me about the injuries? Why didn’t you tell me how bad it is? Why did I have to hear it from . . . from . . . him?” I can’t bring myself to say his name, so I just point at the closed door.

  Vinnie takes a step closer, holding his hands out palms up. He inclines his head toward me, his forehead pinched in a frown. “Did you really listen to what he said?”

  “Of course, I did.” I frown back at him. “He said I might have brain damage and I might never walk again.”

  “That’s right, Allie. Might. He doesn’t know about any of those things. Not really. He’s making up worst-case scenarios and using them to scare you. He doesn’t know the truth, and neither do you.”

  “And that’s what’s scaring me. I don’t know!” I scream at him, even though we’re practically nose to nose. “Why can’t you understand that? Why won’t you tell me what’s really happening to me?”

  “Because I don’t know, either!”

  I take a step backward, shocked both by the volume of his comeback and the force of this new revelation. “You don’t know? You’re an angel. How can you not know?”

  His shoulders droop slightly. I can tell he’s sorry he yelled at me. “Because angels aren’t omniscient. We don’t know everything.”

  I push my hair back from my face, totally confused by what he’s telling me. “What do you mean you don’t know everything? You’ve been practically reading my mind since you pulled me out of the car.”