The Manuscript

THE MANUSCRIPT

By K.S. Gorski

         Lightening lit up the afternoon sky and thunder rolled, shaking the thin walls of the tiny, bleak diner, where Meagan Galloway sat at a tiny corner table.
Still unmarried at 30, Meagan made a substantial living by writing children’s books.
As Meagan looked out the diner window, watching the lightening shoot across the sky, she had a sudden feeling of foreboding as she waited for her friend Dana to arrive.
         Meagan glanced down into her cup of too strong black coffee, dismally watching the oil swirl across the top. She normally took her coffee with milk and sugar, but the milk in the creamer on the table had soured; and the sugar bowl had small black flakes of something unknown in it.
         She had tried several times to get the waitress’s attention but to no avail. The plain little bleach blonde was busy flirting with a couple of grubby looking construction workers, at the far end of the counter, oblivious to anything but them.
Meagan sighed. She didn't know why she had agreed to meet Dana here. They could have met at any one of the several other diners, in a better part of town, to talk, but Dana had been insistent upon this one.
         Dana had sounded desperate when she had called almost thirty minutes ago; she had not given Meagan any specific details, she had simply asked if Meagan would meet her. However, by the tone of her voice, Meagan knew it was bad news.
         Meagan started as the waitress’s shrill laugh broke into her thoughts. She glanced to where the waitress and one of the construction workers had cozied up together in the corner. The waitress stood with her back to the wall, the worker in front of her, pressed up close, leaning, braced on one arm, against the wall
Meagan turned away in disgust wishing that Dana would hurry up, as she saw the worker raise his other hand and slide it into the front of the waitress’s blouse.
The waitress’s squeal of pleasure brought an unexpected reaction from the kitchen, as the cook burst through the bat-wing doors.
         Meagan was surprised at the cook’s appearance. She had expected a dirty, unshaven, tobacco-chewing, balding man to appear, like those portrayed on TV. Instead, the forty something man who appeared, was scrubbed and shaven. His white shirt and black slacks looked freshly laundered, as did his white apron, which showed only a few stains from the day’s labor.
         Meagan watched as the cook made his way to the end of the counter. He took a hold of the waitress’s arm, much to her and the worker’s surprise, and pulled her aside.
         The cook didn't raise his voice, but Meagan could see by the look on his face that he was serious as he berated the waitress for her behavior.
         Breaking away from the cook’s grip, the waitress suddenly burst into tears and ran to the ladies room. The cook gave the worker a meaningful look then turned to evaluate the people in the rest of the room. Spotting Meagan, he made his way to her table.
         “Good afternoon,” he greeted her, smiling.
         “Good afternoon,” Meagan returned.
         “Is there anything I can get for you? I’m afraid your waitress is indisposed for the moment.” The cook apologized.
         “Yes, please. I could use some fresh milk and sugar. This is soured and I don’t know what’s in the sugar bowl.” Megan pointed at the black flakes.
         “I’m terribly sorry about that. I’ll get you some fresh right away.”
         The cook picked up both the creamer and the sugar bowl and disappeared into the kitchen.
         He was back within a few minutes.
         “Here you go, Miss. I am so sorry about this. Debbie was suppose to check all the creamers and condiments when she started her shift, but as you can see she’s not very dependable. The girl has had a rough life and I wanted to help her out. That’s why I gave her a job.” The cook sighed. “But there’s only so much I can do, if she would just take her work more seriously. We don’t get much business as is. Her ignoring the paying customers for those construction workers is not helping any. Is there anything else I can get you? How would you like a nice big piece of apple pie to go with your coffee? It was fresh baked this morning.”
         “No, no thank you. Coffee is fine.”
         “Are you sure? It’s on the house.”
         “Well,” Meagan hedged.
         “I’ll heat it up and put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top.” The cook offered.
         “Oh, all right. You talked me into it.” Meagan laughed. “How could I refuse free hot apple pie a la mode?”
         “Great! I’ll bring it right out to you.” The cook hurried back to the kitchen.
In the meantime, the waitress had pulled herself together and had exited the ladies room. She, too, made her way to the kitchen. Within minutes, she reappeared carrying a plate containing a piece of steaming apple pie topped with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream.
         “Here you go, Miss.” The waitress said humbly, as she placed the pie in front of Meagan. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”
         “Thank you.” Meagan acknowledged. She noticed that the waitress was younger then she had first assumed. At first glance, she had thought the girl was in her late twenties, possible early thirties, but now she saw that the she was not much more than twenty-two or three. The cook had said the girl had lived a rough life. Meagan could see that now. She was thin, too thin, under her white uniform blouse and black skirt. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hands trembled slightly as she placed Meagan’s pie on the table. Meagan could also see a slight limp in the girl’s walk as she returned to the kitchen.
         Shaking her head sadly, Meagan turned her attention to the steaming pie in front of her. It looked and smelled delicious. She was glad she had let the cook talk her into getting it.
         Meagan had only eaten about a third of the pie, when the door of the dinner opened and Dana hurried in, drenched from the downpour that had started five minutes before.
         Dana shook her umbrella, and then closed it, as she glanced around the room looking for Meagan. Spying her, Dana hurriedly made her way to the table.
         “Lord, it’s dreadful out there!” Dana exclaimed as she slid into the seat opposite Meagan. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
         “Only about fifteen minutes,” Meagan assured her.
         “That pie looks absolutely fabulous!”
         “It is.”
         “Then I must have some.”
         Dana looked around for the waitress, who had just reappeared from the kitchen. Waving her over, Dana put in an order for a piece of pie and a cup of tea.
         “So what is so important that we had to come out in this dreadful weather to talk about?” Meagan asked her friend after they had finished their pie.
         “It’s Jeffery.”
         “Jeffery, has something happened to him?” Meagan asked, concerned.
         The three of them had been best friends since first grade, Meagan, Dana and Jeffery. Where one was, the other two were not far away. Even throughout high school, the three had remained close, although they had all developed different interest. Brunette Meagan had been the homebody of the two girls, taking home economics along with the other required classes needed to graduate. Blonde Dana on the other hand had been a cheerleader. She had tried out and had gotten all the female leads in the school theatrical productions. Jeff did well in all of his subjects, not favoring any specific one. He was on the school baseball team as well as the track team.
         Upon graduating, they had all gone their separate ways. Jeff had gone to college, changing his major several times, before deciding on engineering. Dana had gone to a modeling school, where she went on to become a fashion model. Meagan had found that she enjoyed writing, so she had taken a few courses at a junior college.
         Although the three had moved to different cities, they each tried to stay in contact with one another. Dana was doing a fashion shoot locally and had contacted Megan, immediately, upon her arrival in town. They had spent Dana’s first night in town pulling an all-niter at Meagan’s house, talking over old times.
Meagan thought of Jeff, tall, brunette, Jeff, with soft blue eyes and gentle laugh. A warm feeling washed over her as she visualized him the last time she had saw him and she could feel her face flush. She guiltily glanced over at her friend to see if she had noticed. Meagan could never understand why thinking of Jeff caused her to feel this way. There had never been, to her knowledge, anything sexual between any of them. They were just friends.
         “I’m worried about Jeff, Meg,” Dana stated, brushing her blonde hair back over her shoulder.
         “Why? I thought he was doing great at his job.” Meagan asked.
         “Oh, he is. It’s not that. It’s his emotional state I’m worried about.”
         "What do you mean his emotional state? What in the world are you talking about?” Meagan asked, confused.
         “You haven’t heard then?”
         "Heard what?”
         “Remember that girl he was dating a couple of months ago?”
         “Yes. It was Emily something or other. What about her?”
         “She came up missing a couple of weeks ago. They found her body yesterday morning in a lake about five miles from here. She’d been strangled.”
         “Oh my Gosh, have they caught the killer? Do they know who did it?” Meagan asked, shocked.
         “No, they haven’t yet. But they have some suspects and the prime one is Jeff.”
         “Jeff? But Jeff is in Minnesota.”
         “Not anymore, he’s been here for almost a month.”
         “What? How can that be? I never heard anything from him. He wouldn’t come to town and not contact me.”
         “He would if he were contemplating murder.” Dana pointed out.
         “Dana! This is Jeff you’re talking about, he wouldn’t kill anyone.”
         “Seriously, Meg, how well do we know Jeff? We haven’t seen him in years. People change.”
         “You seriously can’t believe Jeff killed his ex-girlfriend?” Meagan asked, horrified. “My God, Dana, we’ve known each other since first grade!”
         “I guess not. Really, I don’t know what to think, Meg. I mean Jeff has changed. I don't know what it is that changed him, but he is not the old Jeff. Not the one we knew in school. This Jeff, the one he is now, is more brooding. More sober. Not the fun loving Jeff we knew.”
         “He’s older now, Dana, more responsible. You’re thinking of him as a teenager. He’s a grown man, now.”
         “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It looks like it’s stopped raining; how about we get out of here? I have an appointment in less than an hour for a shoot and I have to get ready.” Dana said as she stood.
         Meagan reached down and retrieved her purse from under the table, where she had placed it next to her feet.
         “Let’s get together again in a couple of days, okay?” Dana asked.
         “Okay.”
         “I’ve got to go. Can you pay my part of the bill?” Dana asked, as she laid a five-dollar bill on the table.
         “Yeah, sure,” Meagan laughed. Dana was always running late.
         “Great! I’ll call you.”
         “Okay.”
         Meagan watched as her friend hurried out the door. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a ten and replaced it with the five. Walking up to the counter, she paid the waitress for her coffee, Dana’s tea, and piece of pie. She returned to the table long enough to leave a hefty tip for the waitress. More out of pity, then for the service she had received.
         Leaving the diner, she made her way to her car. It was growing dark and Meagan realized that she and Dana had spent longer in the diner than either of them had realized. No wonder Dana had been in a hurry to leave.
         Meagan pulled her keys from her purse and started to unlock the driver’s door when she felt a presence behind her. Her defensive instincts kicked in too late, as a muscular arm wrapped itself around her waist and a hand went over her mouth, stifling her scream for help. Meagan kicked and struggled as her attacker pulled her into an alleyway.
         Terrified, Meagan tried her best to fight off her attacker, but her best was not good enough as she felt the man pull her to the ground and climb on top of her. Meagan managed to get an arm free; reaching up she clawed at the man’s face. She felt some satisfaction as she felt the flesh give and the warm stickiness of blood, but it was short lived as the man gave a hoarse cry and wrapped both of his hands around her throat and squeezed.
         Meagan struggled valiantly as the man continued to squeeze.
         “Someone help me, please help me,” Megan thought as she blindly reached up, groping for the man’s face. Then she relaxed as blackness overtook her.

#

         Meagan gasped and started to cough as she regained consciousness.
         “Take it easy Meg.” A familiar voice said. “You’re going to be all right. Just lie still until the ambulance gets here.”
         Strong hands gently pushed her back down onto the wet ground.
         “Dana?” Megan questioned hoarsely, as she looked up to see her friend kneeling next to her, along with the cook from the diner.
         “Hey Meg, just lie still.” Dana advised.
         “That man?”
         “It’s all right, he’s in police custody.”
         Megan turned her head toward the parking lot.
         There, standing next to a police car, his wrists encased in handcuffs stood Jeff, handsome, sweet Jeff, blood oozing down his face from four scratches on his cheek.
         Megan’s eyes widened with disbelief as she turned back to her friend.
         “No, it can’t be. It couldn’t have been Jeff.”
         “But it was, Meg. I saw him.”
         “But why would Jeff want to hurt me?”
         Dana shook her head. “I don’t know, Meg. I told you that he had changed. I’m just grateful that I decided to come back, after I thought I saw him as I was driving away.”
         “It’s a good thing she did,” chimed in the cook. “If she hadn’t of, you’d be dead now. Your friend came running into the diner screaming that someone was attacking you. I rushed out here and pulled him away from you just in the nick of time.”
         Megan reached a shaking hand up to the cook, who took it in his own, and squeezed it gently.
         “Thank you.” Megan told him, and then she turned to Dana. “Thank you, both of you.”
         “They’re leaving.” The cook pointed out.
         Meagan turned to look toward the police car as it was pulling out. Her childhood friend and would be killer in the back seat.
         Megan gasped, tears coming to her eyes as she saw the look on his face. It held a look of pure hatred, as he mouthed obscenities and threats at her.
         “That’s not Jeff, Meg.” Dana consoled her, as the police car pulled away. “Not the Jeff we use to know. That thing is something evil. The Jeff we knew was lost somewhere in the past.”

#

         The thunder crashed again, as Melanie watched her friend Randy finish reading her manuscript.
         “Hey, that’s not bad, Mel. It needs some polishing up. But for the beginning of the first chapter, it’s pretty good.”
         “Do you really think so, Randy? You’re not just saying that because you’re my friend and don’t want to hurt my feelings?”
         “No, not at all. You said the rest of the book goes on to tell what happened. Why Jeff changed and why he tried to kill the lead character.”
         “Yes, that’s right.”
         “I’d like to read it when you get it finished.”
         “You’ll be the first. I’ll even give you a free autographed copy of it, if it ever gets published.” Melanie laughed.
         “I’ll hold you to that.” Randy chuckled, as he stood, pulling his wallet from his pocket.
         After paying their bill and making plans to meet for coffee again, Melanie and Randy exited the diner.
         Melanie stood under the diner’s canopy and watched as her friend made a mad dash for his car. Opening her purse, she reached in and pulled out her car keys, followed by a small can of pepper spray. With the can of pepper spray in her left hand and her keys gripped defensively in her right, Melanie made her way to her own car.
         It had taken months of self-defense training and therapy to build up her confidence enough for her to brave going out into public. She had been surprised once, she wouldn’t be again; this time she was ready to defend herself.

<End>