Truck Stop Coffee Bar

Truck Stop Coffee Bar

         "Do you need a warm up?" the waitress said as she held the coffee pot close to her face.  The man nodded to let her know he did.  Nancy poured the coffee slow.  She looked at him noticing his blue flannel shirt and his hat with large yellow letters that read, “Caterpillar”.  He was clearly a trucker.  The sad look in his eyes made her feel sorry about what ever put him in that state.  She looked back at the cup. Small droplets ran down the side of the porcelain vessel.  She turned the pot up, stopping the flow of the hot brown liquid.  Nancy smiled as she went on to the next customer at the Truck Stop Coffee Bar. 
         
         Henry sat staring at the still unsettled fluid in his cup.  He reached for the sugar packets that were in a small holder next to the napkins.  He pulled three out; several came with them, ending up on the bar.  He shook the packages several times and tore them open.  He watched as the crystals submerged into the dark water.  He took a spoon and stirred the coffee making the small bubbles dance in a circular motion.  Leaving the spoon in the cup he reached for a napkin and folded it once into a square.  While taking the spoon out of the cup and laying it on the folded paper, he looked at the pie cooler.  The reflective metal revealed an image of him.  This was the first time in six months Henry had seen his face.  He turned his eyes down to the bar.  "So, where you headed?" the waitress said as she set the pot back onto the heater.

         "Maine," Henry said still looking down at the bar.

         "Hell, that's a long way from here," Nancy said as she leaned onto the floral patterned bar.

         "Four days from here."

         "Take ya a day to get out of Texas."

         "No, I'm going through Okalahoma.  It's quicker." Henry took a sip of his coffee.  As he pulled the cup away he wiped his bushy mustache and ran his hand down his long beard.  He looked at Nancy with his sad blue eyes, longing for her to ask the question. She felt the force of his look.  She didn't want to ask the question, but she couldn't control herself.

         "Are you ok?"

         "No," he paused and took a deep breathe as if to keep from crying. "No ma'am, I'm not."  He said it as if he did not want to talk about the event.  He did, though.  He had not talked about it at all.  The event ate at him like a lion after its first kill.   

         "What's wrong?" Nancy said reluctantly.  He looked at her with the sad eyes only a man with a horrible secret could see through.  A tear rolled slowly down his cheek.  The lump in his throat had grown so that it was hard for him to breath.  He turned back to his coffee and slowly took a drink.  He could barely swallow.  He didn't look back at her.  He stared at the bar as he began.

         "I have to say, first off, looking at a windshield twelve hours a day ain't the best way to spend your time.  I'd been drivin' for what felt like days.  Two week trip felt like two months.  I guess that's what you get in my line of work.  I was on the last stretch, though.  I remember seeing the sign that said Abilene thirty-seven miles.  I was ready to get home.  I hadn't slept in about forty hours and the speed was wearing off but I wasn't stoppin' for nothin'.  I was ready to see Kris, that's my wife, and Justin.  He was eight at the time.  Good boy, too.  Man, he loved his mama.  One time, me and her were fightin' and he got this plastic chain and threatened to hit me with it.  I couldn't be mad at him.  I knew right away though that boy wasn't gonna put up with nothin'.  Kris went in the bathroom and he stood at that door forever.  He was probably all of five.

         "Kris defended him on anything, too.  There was one day; he decided to take his bike apart.  Brand new bike!  I walked up to the house after drivin' about ten hours and it was all tore apart.  Brakes were in the yard, chain hangin' on the front door.  I was pissed.  I went inside screamin' and she took off right at me, tellin' me to leave him alone.  Man, I coulda killed him for that.

         "Anyway, it was rainin' so hard and I felt myself fallin' asleep.  I slapped myself in the face and woke up a little.  Then I looked up and saw the sign that said Baird city limits.  I had about twenty minutes left.  I came up the hill and rounded the corner.  Flat, straight shot, now.  I was grinnin’ ear to ear.  Everything went black after that. 

         "When I came to I saw the sign that said Clyde Pop. 1237.  I had slept for seven miles.  Seven miles!  I wasn't going back to sleep.  I leaned forward in my seat and pressed my elbows hard against the steering wheel, so hard I felt a sharp pain surge up into my shoulder and I held it there, kept me awake too.  I pulled into Abilene off I-20 onto Highway 180.  Drove past the dirty book store and past the old supermarket, then stopped at the red light.  Ten minutes now, I thought.  I turned right, when the light was green.  I was almost to Sonic when I yawned.  Then I heard the crunch.  It was a car.  You really can't feel the bump in the rig.  I hit the brakes and skidded, felt the cab rise about three feet.  I came to a stop.  Then I dropped.  I grabbed the radio, turned it to nine, and called the wreck in.  I climbed out of the cab.  As I walked around to the front, I saw half of the car was crushed under the truck.  I heard the screamin’, a familiar scream.  It was Kris.  I ran to the driver’s side and ripped the door open and she looked at me.  She hated me.  I didn't hear what she was saying because my eyes where locked on my boy.  He was under the crumpled metal, crushed.  His fudge brownie sundae was upside down on his chin. "

         Nancy stood silently as a tear rolled down the face of the truck driver.  The wind began to whistle through the poorly sealed door. A lighting bolt lit the dark sky.  Henry saw the reflection on the pie cooler.  "Looks like there's gonna be storm," Nancy said, breaking the awkward silence.  Henry swigged his cup of coffee and pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet.  He laid it gently on the table. 

         "I'd better hit the road," Henry said as he stood and exited the Truck Stop Coffee Bar.