Static, soft as rain thru’ canvas pours from conversations.

“We don’t conversate no mo’!”  She yells at him across the diner and we all, heroes to a man duck into our coffee and feel glad that this isn’t us caught in the glare of headlights on that particular road to nowhere. He grins in his embarrassment and I can feel his eyes sweep across the floor radaring just who is present to witness shame. I hear his brain struggle, the cogs rumble as he tries to wind up a witty face saving comment. From under eyebrows, I covertly glance across the once red plastic table to see whether his lips move as his mind forms word.

I can see him move into the; ‘why now? Why me? All I wanted was breakfast and all I get is grief’ look of pain that certain men acquire as they get older. These men who once could rely upon their humour, their charm to move through life and now wear puzzlement like a bad hat. Men that life seemed to have kicked their ass at a time when they weren’t quite looking.

“Aw go blow it out your ass!”  He yells and grins a smug grin at us, he knew it was over soon as she spoke, all that was left for him in his shade was to call in the ‘all men together against the women’ card and rely upon our good humour to pull it off.

We laughed and went back to ham and eggs, hoping that she would leave well alone, maybe leave her fight until she got him alone.

The static rose again as the days business came up for grabs, who would do what, where and for how much, behind this, relief flooded in.

But it was not to be.

She nuzzled up, whispered in his ear, I didn’t want to see this but snakes in the grass can always rattle those with fear in their heart. I could see him shake his head, see those eyebrows knit together, feel him moving away from her, wanting to concentrate on his breakfast. The static slowed as their tension settled through the room, he was shushing her, moving his shoulders in the dance of resignation that breakfast, life and a knowing non-recognition that love had all escaped this relationship.

“Don’t do this” he warned and tried to move his eating irons back into orbit of eggs and other good grease. 

She was moving in again, his eyes were slowly quartering the room, whether looking for escape, who would side with his woman or a friend to help defuse the moment, or maybe all…for who knows where men go to when public shame and rage go hand in hand?

“Go away!” more of a roar now, his hand pushing at her emblousoned shoulder, slipping as she ducked with practised ease from his paw.

She squealed: “don’t you start pushin’ me!” and lunged for a steak knife off’f the counter, she twisted back, waving the three inch blade, a toy in front of her, waving as to show him the buttons on his side pockets and vest.

The static was a low hum now, I could feel my eyes drawn into a horror that only time could resolve, others too were staring at her blade, some calculating the pressure she would need to puncture his bear hide, others how they could pay’n’go without a label of chicken. Only the chef humming showtunes behind the serving hatch seemed totally unaware. Quiet at these times is not a friend; there is nowhere to hide.

He began to soft talk her; “baby, there’s no need for this, c’mere, let me hug, kiss, cuddle you, put the knife down, let’s finish breakfast an’ go on home. We can maybe stop by the store n’ buy you something nice…” He was smiling and fooling nobody this side of that knife I could see.

She smiled too, waved here knife again, “Is this what I have to do to get your attention?” her grin grew lopsided, ” I gotta tell you Miles, this is over, can’t go on, we never talk, do nothin’ go nowhere, we sit an’ watch t.v.  Eat trash, go to your friends, smoke, drink fall asleep, an’ then eat at this shitty place on the way back” resignation fell into her shoulders as Miles raised a hand to speak: “Hush now, it’s my turn, this is over. D. E. A. D. dead o.k.? If you need more to get it through that bonehead of yours ask buddy there…”

We all turn to stare at Buddy, well I guess it’s Buddy we’re lookin’ at, cos that’s who Miles is now starin’ at like he’s about to get news he really don’t want to hear.

“Yeah Buddy, tell me” growls Miles in a voice I wouldn’t want to hear any time past sundown.  “Tell me, I really don’t wanna miss this”

Buddy says nothin’ his Adams apple’s bouncing up and down, but no words catch up.

“You tell me then Sarah, just how come Buddy can tell me ’bout this?”

Sarah stands there, the knife starting to list some, Miles’s eyes watching, calculating distance between its tip and last night’s beer.  “Sarah?”

Sarah knows she’s reached a dead end here, two men, one who can’t stand up to speak for her and the other who knows now what’s been going on and is only waiting for her to reveal her betrayal.

She drops the knife, in a flash Miles has kicked it away and backhanded the tray holding others behind the counter, this wakes the chef up from his trance vis Les Miserables and he starts squawking ” what’s goin’ on out there?”

All the counter girl can do is put her finger to her lips and go Shhh… The chef ducks away again.

Miles picks up Sarah, puts her on his knee, ” you better talk to me girl” then he glares at Buddy, “C’mere Bud.”

Bud sits.

“I said c’mere!”

Bud sits.

“Would’ya still want her after this?” Miles tore of her blouse, “I paid for this” he ripped at her bra’ “Paid for this too” he stopped contemplated for a second, looked at Bud: “well? Do you still want this or not?”

Buddy finally stood, ” Miles let her go…there’s no need for any of this”

“You gonna teach me manners? Right n’ wrong? after you been seeing my woman behind my back?”

Buddy’s still standing there, “Miles this ain’t right, you know it and I know it, we’re past fighting over women, that ain’t no way to treat Sarah, lets let this go, let her go and we can still be friends.”

Miles threw Sarah at Buddy, just up and picked her up and threw her, she landed on him, knocked him down, they both lay on the floor as Miles stood over them: “You be at my place at 4, y’can pick your stuff up then, Buddy I want my tools back same time.” He sat down heavily into the plastic chair. Buddy still staring at him, Sarah covering up her boobs and starting to hiss now at Bud. Wanting him to answer Miles back, Bud was having none of it. Some of the shamefaced look that Miles had started out with was now colouring him, he walked out of the door catching not one eye… Sarah flashed her eyes around the room, hissed “well that’s the most you boys ever gonna see of me n’ the last you’ll ever see of me Miles” she flounced and ran out the door after her new man.

Miles was gone somewhere inside of himself, looking for answers from yesterday maybe, I guess that all men need to look somewhere for them when none appear to be arriving soon. He looked into his cup, looked up at the counter maid and wagged his finger for another coffee…

Outside a car started. A truck horn blew as the door opened again and two strangers entered to glance nervously around at pale faces staring at them. They caught sight of Miles’s back and the counter girl gently shaking in her nylon smock as she poured.

“Miss, coffee here please, two breakfasts and can you tell us where people go to find some action around here?”

Static returned, the chef began singing ‘Camptown races’ again

Miles shook his head and knew beyond shadow that any chance of this story laying had now ended.

©neilbenbow