Diana smiled awkwardly. She assumed everyone greeted people who wore name tags by name. The men who stopped at Stickler’s on their way to anywhere else did it to her, after all. Especially the ones that showed a keen interest in what her boyfriend thought about the burgers, or which pie he bought her, and… she realized that they weren’t being friendly and conversational.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… Diana.”
“Okay, Miss Diana. You can call me Miss Wilma, how’s that sound? Miss Diana, your dining assignment is 7:45.”
Diana nodded. “Thank you, Miss Wilma.”
“Yes indeed, Miss Diana. We’re gonna be best friends, I can tell. My lord, she’s right in there, calling me Wilma!” She clapped her hands as she laughed. “How about you, Mister Man, you ready for your dining assignment?”
Diana’s seatmate removed one of his earbuds. “Yes, please.”
“Well, I have bad news, Mister Man. You’re going to see more of Miss Diana. You’ve got 7:45 as well.”
“Okay.”
“Mister Man, have you been properly introduced to Miss Diana?”
Her seatmate shook his head and began to put his earbud back in place. Wilma put her hand on her hip and feigned outrage.
“It’s a long way to New York City, Mister Man. Let’s all be friends here, okay? Mister Man, this is Miss Diana. And you are…?”
“Gabe,” he said, and pressed the earbud back in place.
“Miss Diana and Mister Gabe. Right on. Pleased to meet both of you. If you need anything, ask for Mister Stewart, because Miss Wilma could use a break.” She clapped her hands and laughed once more, enjoying the laughter from the other passengers. Wilma stepped to the next row and leaned forward. “Hello, my dears, as you may have heard, I’m Miss Wilma. Are you ready for your dining assignments?”
CHAPTER 8
Diana took full advantage of the stops the train made the following day, getting out for some air and jogging beside the train before being cooped up in her seat, or the dining car, or a cramped bathroom. The countryside had become more varied than the heartland, and despite long patches of bare farmland, the clumps of civilization were becoming larger and closer together. Gabe was utterly disinterested in all of it and watched movies on his electronic device or flipped idly through a magazine. Diana peered over at pictures of hot rods and turned back to the window. Seeing new places interested her more than glossy pictures of car engines.
Today was another day of firsts but in rapid succession. Diana was seeing more of the country in two days than she had in twenty years. Her father kept the two of them in rural areas, favoring remote locations on a hill, or tucked away, such as a wooded area. The more she contemplated her life with her father, the more questions arose in her mind. Why all the secrecy? Why did she have to quit her job? Why had he killed Deputy Simmons, when the man never crossed them in any way and was nothing but pleasant to her the few times they ever spoke? And most pressing of all, why had he abandoned her?
After the industrial grit of Cincinnati, West Virginia was an oasis of wooded calm before the storm of New York City and meeting Mabel’s cousin. She only knew of her by way of Mabel vouching for her, and in her limited experience, Mabel’s word was as good as gold. If she vouched for you, there was no need for a background check. Scott ran it anyway, then ran her out of the restaurant. She sighed. It was good money while it lasted.
Mabel had surprised her as she loaded her suitcase into Sally’s car. She worked out a deal with Scott where twenty dollars a week of Diana’s pay went to Mabel, who in turn presented it to Diana as a going-away present. Her final cash payment from the restaurant had paid for her train ticket and her onboard meals, leaving precious little left over. Diana tossed and turned the night before she left, fretting about money, and now she teared up, thankful for her little bit of breathing room.
The train station at Hinton was charming; Diana wished she could spend more than a minute or so admiring it before the conductors waved her back to her seat. She appreciated the Alderton station as well. After the noisy, grimy station in Chicago, she felt at home in places like this. She felt it was a shame that Mabel’s cousin lived in New York, which she still couldn’t wrap her head around. From her window seat on the train, she had seen things that defied comprehension: Crowds, tall buildings, massive trestle bridges, wide rivers, and massive amounts of vehicle traffic. Sure, Stickler’s bordered the interstate, but the number of cars was paltry compared to the traffic jams she saw through her glass rectangle.
She sat back in her seat and took a few deep breaths. She had about ten more hours before she’d touch down in New York and find her fortune by way of Veronica. She hoped they’d get along well. She was shy around strangers, but Mabel had been coaching her for months to be more assertive, and only use shyness as a negotiating tactic. Get them talking down to you, she said, and take their lunch money. Lillian suggested that she learn to speak in an educated manner, so people didn’t think they could put one over on her. She gave her some speech exercises to practice, which she kept folded up in her pocket for easy reference. It took time and experience for Diana to understand when to emphasize her improving diction, and when to fall back on an “aw shucks” demeanor.
Gabe took a break from his earbuds and sat back in his seat as well. He turned to Diana and gave her a wan smile. She smiled back. “Having fun?”
He blinked, and his eyes focused on her. She cringed at the realization that he was taking a rare look out the window. He shrugged. “This part is really boring.”
“Yeah, I guess I would already be there if I took a plane, but, um… I couldn’t.”
Gabe leaned forward a bit, and his smile widened. “No kidding? Huh. Nice to know I’m not the only one afraid of flying.”
Diana inhaled to correct him, then thought better of it. Mabel’s lessons rang in her ears. Reel them in. Build trust. “Oh, me? Yeah, no. You couldn’t pay me to get me up in one of those things. Flying death traps, I say.”
Gabe nodded. “Yeah, after Flight 404, I was like, no way, I’m out. I’d rather walk everywhere if I have to.”
Diana looked down at her lap, solemnly. “404. I can’t… I can’t talk about that.” She had no idea what Flight 404 was or why it was so upsetting.
Someone leaned back in their seat, across the aisle. “Did they ever find that thing?”
Gabe shook his head and put his fist to his lips. He crossed himself and tried to regain his composure. “My abuelita was on that plane. She was so happy, going to see Disneyland. She said she dreamed about it since she was a little girl. I said to her, ‘Walt Disney hadn’t made the place yet when you were little,’ but she didn’t care what I said. Now, she’s… gone.”
He crossed himself again and bowed his head. Diana didn’t know what to do, so she went with her gut instinct. She leaned over and put her arm around him. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice trembling.
He patted her shoulder, and after a few moments Diana sat up. Gabe wiped his cheeks with his fingers and nodded appreciatively. “Sorry about that. I just… whoo! Wow, wasn’t expecting to go there.”
Diana smiled and nodded. “I’ve never seen Disneyland either.”
“It’s pretty boring,” he said.
Diana figured that she and Gabe had bonded enough over his… whatever he called her, that she could press him for information as they sat together in the dining car. She munched on a tuna sandwich, and he ate his fries five at a time.
“Gabe, do you live in New York City?”
He finished chewing most of the fries he was working on, and said, “Yeah, why?”
“I’ve never been there. I just know it’s big.”
Gabe coughed and took a swallow of soda. “Big? Just big?”
“Well, I was hoping you could tell me about this thing everyone talks about. I figure it must be pretty amazing, the way everyone brought it up when I said I was going to New York City.”
After another mouthful of fries, Gabe f
rowned. “What, Freedom Tower? It’s alright, I guess. 9/11 and all that. My parents talk about it sometimes. I don’t see what’s so great about one building, but, whatever, everybody’s got their own opinions, man.”
Diana shook her head. “No, they told me I was going to the Big Apple. What is it? Does it do something, like shoot off fireworks?”
Gabe spat up his soda and held the back of his hand under his nose. “Are you freakin’ kidding me right now? You can’t seriously be asking me that.”
Diana took a bite of her sandwich and looked away, embarrassed.
“Hey,” Gabe said, gently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize not everybody knows about it. Where are you from, originally?”
Honestly, Diana thought darkly, I have no idea, anymore. Diana Fellner was a nobody, a nothing. She reverted to that persona, defensively. “Up until now, I lived in Nebraska.”
“Oh, farm girl. I see.” He bumped his fist over his heart. “NYC, born and raised. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know anything about Nebraska.”
It didn’t, but Diana appreciated the gesture. “You wouldn’t like it,” she said.
“Yeah? Why not?”
“It’s boring.” She smiled and sipped her water.
Gabe laughed a little. “Anyways, I don’t get why you’re so interested in New York. I saw your ticket. You’re getting off a little sooner, and in my humble opinion, for the worse.”
“Huh? Mabel told me I was going to New York.”
Gabe stifled a laugh. “Mabel was wrong. You’re going to Newark.”
“Well, she talks fast when she’s excited.”
“For real, though, you’re getting off in Newark.”
Diana reeled. She replayed the conversation in her head. Once she had the facts straight, she said, “Yeah, she told me, take this train to the second to last stop.”
Gabe nodded. “Right, that’s Newark.”
Diana sat back, trying to process this information. “That’s not in New York?”
Gabe smiled and shook his head. “Not at all. It’s like, practice New York.”
She slumped in her seat and pushed her plate away.
“You, uh, gonna eat those fries?”
CHAPTER 9
Diana slumped in her window seat, crossed her arms, and pouted. The Virginia countryside passed by her window, and she had lost interest in all of it. She pulled her ticket out of her back pocket and frowned over the destination, plain as day: NEWARK. Tantalizingly close to the Big Apple that she’d heard so much about—well, heard about by its nickname—but so far away. She wondered if it was easier for Veronica to pick her up in Newark, or if she lived there, or close by. She didn’t dare hope that she’d set foot in New York, after Gabe’s assessment of Newark. To hear him tell it, if the street gangs didn’t get her, a crazy taxi driver would.
Wilma made her way down the aisle and hovered beside Gabe’s seat. “Miss Diana, your stop is gonna sneak up on you, if you ain’t careful. Make sure you have your bag ready after Trenton.”
Diana looked up and nodded balefully. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You too, Mister Gabe.” She patted the top of his seat back twice and made her way forward through the aisle.
Diana’s face brightened, and her mouth formed an O. She smacked his arm with the back of her hand, and he recoiled. “Ow! Why are you hitting me?”
“You’re going to Newark too?” Her lips broadened into a smile.
He scrunched up his face as if smelling a soiled diaper. “What? Me? No! Through it, not to it.”
Diana sat back. “Oh.”
The pair rode in silence for a while, and Diana tried to interest herself in the scenery that zipped past the window. It looked like beautiful country, from what she could make of it. She thought it might be especially pretty in the summertime. Prettier than Crocker, Nebraska, anyway.
Gabe shifted uncomfortably in his seat and fished his wallet from his back pocket. He frowned over it and nudged Diana with his elbow. She turned to him and looked down at his hands. He flipped a glossy card to her, which she accepted. She looked it over, then up at him.
“You don’t live in New York?”
“Not even the state. Born and raised, though. I would never lie about that.”
Diana wondered if she was lying when she said she was from Nebraska. Technically, that’s where she boarded the train and her last place of residence. She never got a driver’s license and was paid in cash. With her birth certificate in limbo, she figured it was a lie if she knew where she came from but gave a different answer.
Like, say, calling herself Diana Pembrook, not Fellner.
“Why not? I mean, since you like it so much.”
Gabe took his license back and slipped it back in his wallet. “Money, basically. It’s cheaper in Jersey. It’s the difference between my own place, and roommates.”
Diana had never lived alone, even after being abandoned by her father. Mabel took her in that evening, and the two were virtually inseparable ever since. Until now, and even then, Gabe was sort of like a roommate, in that they slept next to each other in their high-backed seats.
Next up would be Veronica. Fending for herself would have to wait unless she found herself a husband.
“So… you’re Gabriel Hinajosa.” She pronounced it, “Hin-ah-juh-sah.”
He smiled. “Ee-nah-hoe-sah.”
“That’s a… different name.”
“Different to what, Smith?”
Diana smiled sheepishly. “Well, sure. I mean, I’ve never heard of it before.”
“It’s Spanish. Obviously.” He held up his brown hands.
Diana pondered this, then perked up. “Oh, like Luis and Rene.” She leaned forward and spoke in hushed tones. “Did somebody set you up with that ID? Because I need all the help I can get.”
Gabe leaned back and gave her a look of utter contempt. “Born and raised in NYC, fool. You think I snuck over the border? What’s the matter with you?”
Diana put her hand to her mouth and shook her head violently. She lowered her hand and tried to pat his arm reassuringly, but he yanked it away. “Oh, no, no, I’m so sorry, Gabe. I didn’t mean that. I just… I have a lot to learn, I think.”
He curled his lip. “You think? How about, yeah, you do, and so do I. I can’t believe I thought I could be actually friends with you when you hit me with that racist crap.”
Tears fell from Diana’s eyes. “I am so sorry, Gabe. Please forgive me. I’ve lived a very sheltered life. You have no idea what—”
“I know all about white privilege, thank you very much.” He got up from his seat and jogged down the stairs.
Diana tipped her head against the window and sniffled.
“Okay, everybody, Trenton is the next stop. Almost to the end of the line.” Wilma made her way down the aisle, heading toward the back of the car. “Start thinking about where your bag is at, Miss Diana, and you too, Mister Gabe.”
Gabe nodded curtly and kept his eyes closed. His earbuds were back in, and he sat uncomfortably in his seat, stiff as a board, almost in fear that any part of him would brush against the embodiment of racist white people seated to his left, who pressed against the increasingly colder inside wall of the train car.
Wilma looked at the two and put her hands on top of the seat backs behind and in front of Gabe. She leaned forward and gave Diana a concerned stare. “Is everything okay over here, Miss Diana?”
“Y-yes, Wilma.”
“Mister Gabe don’t look so happy with you. Are you two having a fight?”
Diana shook her head. “Nothing I don’t deserve. We’re fine, really.”
Gabe snorted, and Wilma turned to him sharply. “Oh? Mister Gabe don’t seem fine to me.”
Somebody a few rows up called out to Wilma. “Don’t you have trash to pick up or something?”
Wilma stood up and regarded the man. She balled her fists, then released the tension. “I’ll check on you folks later.” She glared up the aisle, then mad
e her way down the stairs, slowly.
The man rose from his seat and made his way back to Diana’s row. He extended his hand to her, and said, “I hear you’re new in town. It helps to have friends. Robert Pettinger. Call me Bob.”
Diana shook his hand lightly. “Diana Fellner.” She winced at the slip but tried to play it off as an ache in her side.
“Diana. I like it. That’s a Greek goddess, did you know that? Of course you did.”
Gabe snorted, and said under his breath, “Roman.”
Bob ignored him. “Diana, if you need anything, anything at all, give me a call, okay? Maybe I could show you around, show you the sights.” He reached into his front pants pocket a bit too eagerly, she thought, and he pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of it. He pressed it into her hand, and lingered a bit too long as well, she felt. She cringed a bit but applied her waitressing skills and pasted on a fake smile.
“Sure, Bob.”
His mouth stretched into a goofy grin, and Diana deftly pulled her hand away. “Well, okay! Great! I’m looking forward to it.” His eyes trailed down to her chest, then recovered a moment too late. Diana pulled a blanket over herself, and Bob frowned.
“Nice meeting you, Bob,” she said, with as much sugary sweetness as she could muster.
Bob returned to his seat, and as he flopped down Diana grimaced as he heard him say to his seatmate, “You were right, it worked! I know who I’m doing this weekend.” The clap of their high-five echoed through the train car.
Gabe pulled out his earbuds, and turned to Diana, his eyes half-open. “You’re well-named, I’ll give you that.”
Diana felt a thrill that Gabe was speaking to her again. “Oh?”
“Diana was the goddess of the hunt,” he said. “She knew how to control animals.”
Diana turned away and looked at her reflection in the window. “That’s nice.”
Gabe pulled out his other earbud and shifted in his seat again. Diana watched him in the reflection and saw that he was writing something on a scrap of paper. She tensed up and tried not to let on that she was watching him. He sighed and leaned over and tapped her shoulder.
Dead Shot Page 4