feet high, he moved against the surge, forcing his way to the bathrooms, mumbling a string of incoherent complaints.
Heather gripped Ian’s arm and whispered, “I think I want to leave.”
“We can’t,” he answered. “Look at it out—” But when he turned to emphasize his point, he was faced with only a snow-covered parking lot resting peacefully beneath a clear sky.
They all inched closer to the window and peered out, as if getting a better look might insert the whirling snow back into the scene.
Heather had her phone out and her weather app open in a flash. “Look,” she said, holding it out for everyone to see.
No clouds on the radar. Anywhere. The entire state was clear.
Marcus craned his neck and looked up to the sky. Stars twinkled. “I don’t like this.”
George came back, splashing down the aisle. “The toilets are shooting water straight up to the ceiling! The sinks are overflowing!” He looked scared out of his wits. “Never seen anything like it!” And he was past them, reaching for the phone at the register. “Gotta get a plumber here…or something.” His eyes were transfixed by the water crashing into the front doors. “Hello?” George said into the phone. “Hello?” He hung up. “Line’s dead.”
The ceiling lights began blinking out one at a time, starting from the back of the diner and quickly progressing to the front, plunging the restaurant into murky darkness. Only the glow of the parking lot lamps was left to highlight random sections of the diner.
“Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” startedcreeping out of the jukebox, slithering its way throughout the shadow-infested building and bringing to attention the hair on everyone’s necks.
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.
Then George’s voice interrupted what Tchaikovsky had intended to sound like drops of water shooting from a fountain in his 1892 number. “Why’s the jukebox still on?”
There it glowed, all lit up, yellow light shining as each of the “drops of water” eerily plucked at the nerves of the diner’s seven occupants.
“If the power’s out…” George sloshed through the water, on the move again.
“Let’s get the hell out of here, please.” Ashley grabbed her coat, then stood on the bench seat, climbing over its back and stepping into the next booth.
“Yeah…” Marcus took his jacket and followed her.
Ian looked out into the parking lot and took note of how much snow had accumulated across the asphalt. He knew they wouldn’t be able to travel roads buried under that much snow, but when he heard the teenagers running for the door, their feet pounding through the flowing water, he snatched up his and Heather’s coats in one hand while leading his fiancée over the table with the other.
Ashley was the first to follow the kids outside, Marcus and Heather right behind her. Ian, however, stopped to find George’s silhouette positioned before the jukebox, staring into it as if it was the music machine that was somehow responsible for the darkness and the water circling his ankles.
“George!” he yelled over the song, “I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on, but we’re takin’ off! I left money on the table! Thanks for everything!”
He saw George’s head turn to the side in acknowledgement. “You take care out there. I don’t have the faintest clue what’s happening in here, but out there—”
But then, for the first time, he too noticed the storm’s sudden absence. “Well, I’ll be…”
Ian hesitated, feeling bad for leaving the guy, but then he wasn’t even sure if leaving was any safer than staying. When he rejoined the others outside, the diner’s lights blinked back on behind them.
Now, as they ran to the car, it was the parking lot lights that went out, one by one, to reverse their situation. The darkness was chasing after them.
Ian shut the door and turned the key, half-expecting to hear the sound of a dead battery or a bad starter. But it came to life, and he
Heather gripped Ian’s arm and whispered, “I think I want to leave.”
“We can’t,” he answered. “Look at it out—” But when he turned to emphasize his point, he was faced with only a snow-covered parking lot resting peacefully beneath a clear sky.
They all inched closer to the window and peered out, as if getting a better look might insert the whirling snow back into the scene.
Heather had her phone out and her weather app open in a flash. “Look,” she said, holding it out for everyone to see.
No clouds on the radar. Anywhere. The entire state was clear.
Marcus craned his neck and looked up to the sky. Stars twinkled. “I don’t like this.”
George came back, splashing down the aisle. “The toilets are shooting water straight up to the ceiling! The sinks are overflowing!” He looked scared out of his wits. “Never seen anything like it!” And he was past them, reaching for the phone at the register. “Gotta get a plumber here…or something.” His eyes were transfixed by the water crashing into the front doors. “Hello?” George said into the phone. “Hello?” He hung up. “Line’s dead.”
The ceiling lights began blinking out one at a time, starting from the back of the diner and quickly progressing to the front, plunging the restaurant into murky darkness. Only the glow of the parking lot lamps was left to highlight random sections of the diner.
“Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” startedcreeping out of the jukebox, slithering its way throughout the shadow-infested building and bringing to attention the hair on everyone’s necks.
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.
Then George’s voice interrupted what Tchaikovsky had intended to sound like drops of water shooting from a fountain in his 1892 number. “Why’s the jukebox still on?”
There it glowed, all lit up, yellow light shining as each of the “drops of water” eerily plucked at the nerves of the diner’s seven occupants.
“If the power’s out…” George sloshed through the water, on the move again.
“Let’s get the hell out of here, please.” Ashley grabbed her coat, then stood on the bench seat, climbing over its back and stepping into the next booth.
“Yeah…” Marcus took his jacket and followed her.
Ian looked out into the parking lot and took note of how much snow had accumulated across the asphalt. He knew they wouldn’t be able to travel roads buried under that much snow, but when he heard the teenagers running for the door, their feet pounding through the flowing water, he snatched up his and Heather’s coats in one hand while leading his fiancée over the table with the other.
Ashley was the first to follow the kids outside, Marcus and Heather right behind her. Ian, however, stopped to find George’s silhouette positioned before the jukebox, staring into it as if it was the music machine that was somehow responsible for the darkness and the water circling his ankles.
“George!” he yelled over the song, “I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on, but we’re takin’ off! I left money on the table! Thanks for everything!”
He saw George’s head turn to the side in acknowledgement. “You take care out there. I don’t have the faintest clue what’s happening in here, but out there—”
But then, for the first time, he too noticed the storm’s sudden absence. “Well, I’ll be…”
Ian hesitated, feeling bad for leaving the guy, but then he wasn’t even sure if leaving was any safer than staying. When he rejoined the others outside, the diner’s lights blinked back on behind them.
Now, as they ran to the car, it was the parking lot lights that went out, one by one, to reverse their situation. The darkness was chasing after them.
Ian shut the door and turned the key, half-expecting to hear the sound of a dead battery or a bad starter. But it came to life, and he
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