away. Yet when Will took hold of my elbow awkwardly, I allowed him to lead me toward the glow of the Emerald Truck Stop Diner and Lounge.
The others were waiting at the front of the restaurant. Lester held the door open for each of us as we entered. Inside the diner, there were so many people you couldn’t stir them with a stick, and I understood bitterly exactly how wrong Rocket had been when he’d said that girls only got the quiet, polite savvies. Noise, noise, noise was all I’d gotten; when I stepped into that diner it was most definitely not
quiet,
and some of the voices and thoughts jangling in my ears were far from polite.
Walking into a diner full of tattooed bikers and truckers made me feel like someone had switched on a razzmatazz radio inside my head—a radio with a dial that kept spinning with a fizz and a zing from station to station to station to station without stop. Still reeling from my encounter with the homeless man, the new, added onslaught of all these strangers’ thoughts and feelings and questions and answers made me feel like I was going to be sick.
A wave of dizziness hit me, making the room lurch, and I stumbled, uselessly covering my ears and trying to stay upright. Fish caught me on one side as Will grabbed me on the other, each boy glaring at the other, both trying to steady me and keep me on my feet.
“Ah, geez—” said Lester, sticking his hands in his pockets and taking a step back, none too sure what to do about falling-down girls.
“You okay, honey?” Lill said to me, turning around and reaching out to help. She was ignoring a lady in a green and white uniform that matched her own. The other woman had red hair and a surly glower, and was trying to push pitchers of coffee and water Lill’s way, complaining like a wet cat about Lill being late.
“I think my sister was just on that bus too long,” Fish told Lill, nervous and hasty. Fish was trying to cover for me and my savvy, even though he was still unsure what exactly he was covering for. I was grateful to my brother, and ashamed. I knew that I was going to have to tell him everything: about the voices, and about how I’d gotten us all into this big mess for nothing.
“Well, maybe Mibs should lie down in the back room for a spell,” said Lill. In several quick long strides that the rest of us had to hop to keep up with, she led us past the piping and bellyaching of the red-haired waitress, past booths and tables filled with diners and their deafening thoughts. Lill led us past a long counter where customers sat perched atop round spinning stools, eating their onion rings and drinking coffee, and took us through an Employee’s Only door next to the kitchen.
We found ourselves in a cramped storeroom that smelled like ketchup and pickles and mustard. Lill shrugged out of her sweater and hung it on a coatrack inside the door. Shelves stacked high with bread rolls, jars of mayonnaise, and enormous cans of beans and tomatoes lined the room, reminding me of our basement back in Mississippi and all of Grandma Dollop’s noisy jars. Filing cabinets, a cluttered desk, and a battered sofa filled the only area without supply shelves. A pile of newspapers lay on the floor near a back door labeled
Emergency Exit
and there was a low table in front of the sofa littered with crumbs and empty soda cans.
A small black-and-white television sat on top of one of the filing cabinets, its antenna aslant and festooned with bows of crumpled aluminum foil. The TV was turned on, its poor, snowy image broadcasting the evening news. A newscaster was reporting from somewhere in Kansas, covering a story about freak power outages and damaged electrical grids that ran up and down Highway 81 on most of its path through Kansas and into the town of Salina. Fish and I exchanged knowing glances, fairly confident that Rocket had something to do with those problems.
Lill told Fish and Will to get me to rest on the sofa as she turned the volume down on the
The others were waiting at the front of the restaurant. Lester held the door open for each of us as we entered. Inside the diner, there were so many people you couldn’t stir them with a stick, and I understood bitterly exactly how wrong Rocket had been when he’d said that girls only got the quiet, polite savvies. Noise, noise, noise was all I’d gotten; when I stepped into that diner it was most definitely not
quiet,
and some of the voices and thoughts jangling in my ears were far from polite.
Walking into a diner full of tattooed bikers and truckers made me feel like someone had switched on a razzmatazz radio inside my head—a radio with a dial that kept spinning with a fizz and a zing from station to station to station to station without stop. Still reeling from my encounter with the homeless man, the new, added onslaught of all these strangers’ thoughts and feelings and questions and answers made me feel like I was going to be sick.
A wave of dizziness hit me, making the room lurch, and I stumbled, uselessly covering my ears and trying to stay upright. Fish caught me on one side as Will grabbed me on the other, each boy glaring at the other, both trying to steady me and keep me on my feet.
“Ah, geez—” said Lester, sticking his hands in his pockets and taking a step back, none too sure what to do about falling-down girls.
“You okay, honey?” Lill said to me, turning around and reaching out to help. She was ignoring a lady in a green and white uniform that matched her own. The other woman had red hair and a surly glower, and was trying to push pitchers of coffee and water Lill’s way, complaining like a wet cat about Lill being late.
“I think my sister was just on that bus too long,” Fish told Lill, nervous and hasty. Fish was trying to cover for me and my savvy, even though he was still unsure what exactly he was covering for. I was grateful to my brother, and ashamed. I knew that I was going to have to tell him everything: about the voices, and about how I’d gotten us all into this big mess for nothing.
“Well, maybe Mibs should lie down in the back room for a spell,” said Lill. In several quick long strides that the rest of us had to hop to keep up with, she led us past the piping and bellyaching of the red-haired waitress, past booths and tables filled with diners and their deafening thoughts. Lill led us past a long counter where customers sat perched atop round spinning stools, eating their onion rings and drinking coffee, and took us through an Employee’s Only door next to the kitchen.
We found ourselves in a cramped storeroom that smelled like ketchup and pickles and mustard. Lill shrugged out of her sweater and hung it on a coatrack inside the door. Shelves stacked high with bread rolls, jars of mayonnaise, and enormous cans of beans and tomatoes lined the room, reminding me of our basement back in Mississippi and all of Grandma Dollop’s noisy jars. Filing cabinets, a cluttered desk, and a battered sofa filled the only area without supply shelves. A pile of newspapers lay on the floor near a back door labeled
Emergency Exit
and there was a low table in front of the sofa littered with crumbs and empty soda cans.
A small black-and-white television sat on top of one of the filing cabinets, its antenna aslant and festooned with bows of crumpled aluminum foil. The TV was turned on, its poor, snowy image broadcasting the evening news. A newscaster was reporting from somewhere in Kansas, covering a story about freak power outages and damaged electrical grids that ran up and down Highway 81 on most of its path through Kansas and into the town of Salina. Fish and I exchanged knowing glances, fairly confident that Rocket had something to do with those problems.
Lill told Fish and Will to get me to rest on the sofa as she turned the volume down on the
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