Remember Me?

Date of events: Wednesday, May 17th

I stood by the front windows of the Blue Point diner, peering through a gap in the net curtains to gaze out at the steady stream of school kids passing by. They flowed down the street like a river, voices harmonizing together in a symphony of chatter and laughter. The river soon burst through the doors of Mickey's Diner in a steady torrent, not a single drop breaking away from the current.

A full week had slipped by since my meeting with the principal, and there had been no word from Chris. I longed to hear how the second exam went but had faith he would have done well. I assumed it would still take some persuasive effort from Mr. Hawthorne to convince the board and get Chris back into the College prep classes. That sort of thing takes time. Even so, as streams of kids passed by after school each day, my thoughts drifted to my young friend, and I always kept an eye out for him.

Mickey's Diner was proving to be quite the success story in our small town of Castle Rock. Day in and day out, it was inundated with customers, leaving our diner somewhat deserted. Since the early thirties, the Blue Point Diner had been a bustling hotspot—not just because it was the only place in town where you could get a proper meal, but also because its food was, and still is, exceptional. Rose and Violet had been cooking since they were old enough to take a hot pan out of an oven, and they saw the diner through its glory days.

But that was then, and this was now.

The still, warm air was like a sedative. I sank into the front-most booth, eyelids growing heavy as I leaned back against the worn brown leather. I tilted my head to one side to avoid catching my hair on the rip where the yellowed padding was exposed and dusty. I longed for the door to open. Longed for a breath of fresh air to break through the staleness. Longed for the gentle tinkling of the chimes above it to jolt me back into motion. Yet, the door remained fixed on its hinges, minute after minute, and what felt like hour after agonizing hour.

"You need a coffee, hun?" Patty's southern drawl startled me awake. Her fiery red hair, rolled at the fringe, lit up the dullness of the room as she busied herself behind the counter.

I yawned. "You know I never say no to coffee. Please."

She held the coffee jug under the hot water boiler's tap, her manicured fingers swiveling the faucet handle back and forth. "If I can get this darn thing workin'! It's been givin' me grief all day!"

"You have to hit it."

She fluttered her thick eyelashes at me. "Say what, now?"

I pushed myself up from my seat and trudged all the way down the aisle and behind the counter to join her.

"Like this." Holding the jug under the faucet, I thumped the side of the cylinder with my fist, and the old aluminum lug belched loudly before spraying out steaming hot water.

"Well, whaddya know?" she said, her blue eyes rolling. "Just another thing that'll never get fixed in this run-down place."

Patty is Violet's great-granddaughter. Her lineage is known for 'having 'em young', so at 24 years old, Patty feels she's 'starting late'. She's more than ready to begin the next phase of her life which is straightforward: marry into wealth, bear a few kids, embrace the role of a housewife, and bid farewell to the workforce forever.

And she's on the right track. At the time, she had just returned from a two-week surprise cruise where her man, who definitely fits into the wealthier side of the working-class category, whisked her away without notice and returned her with a big fat rock on her finger. Naturally, I was thrilled for her. After all, she saved my life and has been like a surrogate mother to me, despite being just six years older. And I know this will make me sound clingy, but I do have a lingering fear of what I'll do without her once she finally realizes her dream.

Anyway… I shoveled a fresh scoop of ground coffee beans into the pot, and freshly roasted loveliness wafted out of the top. "Nothing can ever come between me and my coffee," I chuckled, and the boiler burped on the wall in reply. It's not just the smell or the taste of it that makes me an avid drinker of the stuff - it keeps me awake during the day after all those sleepless nights.

I set the coffee pot on the counter to brew, then settled onto a stool and got lost in my thoughts while staring at the faded and scratched-up laminate.

Patty rubbed her long fingers across my back. "Are you all right, honey?"

"I'm fine."

"Now, I know you well enough to know that when you say you're fine - you're not fine. You've been so quiet the last few days."

"I guess a lot happened while you were away."

"You're not kidding! What did you say you did with all the customers again?"

I had shared parts of the story with her - about the ladies and the newspaper articles - but I hadn't delved into the details. I hadn't mentioned Chris to her at all, actually, and she's usually my ear for everything. Whether I'm ranting, crying, am ecstatic - whatever the immediate thought or emotion, I lay it all down on her. But, in this case, I had kept a lot to myself.

"Is that what's worrying you, hun?" she asked.

"Of course it's worrying me. The whole day, we've had three customers in. We can't survive like this. Thinking things might turn around on their own is just a pipe dream. We need to do something to fix this situation."

"Like what? Go on down the road and pull all them folks back in here by the ears?"

"Yes! Well, maybe not literally. Let's offer some deals. Do coupons. Maybe spruce the place up a bit. In fact," I said, getting excited, "why don't we go all out and revamp the entire diner? Well… as much as we can. We could have a special reopening event!"

Patty's expression barely moved. "Sugar, I've noticed something different about you since I got back."

"Like what?"

"Well, this whole 'revamp' thing," she said, hands moderately flying up into the air. "It seems to run along the same lines as you doin' a complete cleanout and rearrangement of the kitchen cupboards at home!"

"I thought they could do with some reorganizing!"

Patty gave me a stern look. "What happened?"

I slouched over the counter and sighed. "Fine. I met this boy, and-"

"Woah, aboy, huh?!" she said excitedly, and I shot straight up.

"Not like that! He's just a kid!"

"Mmmm-hmmm..." she grinned. "Maybe he got an older brother."

I gave her a sidelong-glance. She's always trying to find me a man. When I tell her I'd rather be single, she laughs at me like she's never heard anything so absurd. She's traditional, you see, and I think she finds it hard to picture my future as anything other than being a housewife.

"Now, what was it about this 'boy', then?" she asked, leaning on the counter with intrigue.

"Well, he has huge potential. He's really smart but didn't realize it, I think. So, I helped him realize it. But I haven't seen him for a few days, and I just hope things are working out OK."

"Oh, sweety, bless your heart. And what's this boy's name?" she asked, head tilted.

I opened my mouth to answer but hesitated to let his name roll out of it. It struck me then, why I had kept him from her. Patty, bless her own heart, had given me unwavering support since day one, but her nurturing instincts sometimes bordered on overprotectiveness. And while I was sure she'd be sympathetic to Chris, she'd be wary of his history and his family. She was not a newcomer to this town like me. She moved here when she was sixteen, so had eight years of getting to know the locals. Patty being Patty would surely advise me to err on the side of caution or to stay away completely, and if I didn't take her 'advice' it would only cause friction between us.

"This boy," I said, skipping around his name entirely, "he taught me thatanythingis possible. He worked so hard to achieve something he thought was impossible, but once he tried-"

"Wait… you're not talkin' about Christopher Chambers, are you?"

I paused. "How did you-"

"Granny mentioned he helped out in the kitchen one time."

"Oh."

"I don't know why I didn't connect the dots earlier," she said, more to the ceiling than me. She turned away to take two teacups from a shelf. "Well 's off the list."

"Patty, would you stop thinking about who or who not to pair me up with and listen to me? Chris is a good kid!"

"I know, honey. He's a gentle soul. But he's made some big mistakes in his short life, and you don't need… distractions like that."

What did I tell you?

She poured the freshly infused coffee into the teacups and handed me one while I brewed under the surface.

"Chris isn't a distraction," I told her. "When I was in dire need of help, you pulled me back from the brink. And I think Chris felt the same way, maybe, not knowing where to turn, or feeling like nobody really cares… But he's rising above it all now, and in doing that, he's shown me that we can rise above all this," I gestured at the diner. "It's a two-way street, you see?"

She blew gently on her teacup, cradling it like a delicate flower in her hands. "You're at the age where you gotta concentrate on yourself. Find yourself a good man, settle down."

Ugh… Patty!

The front door of the diner burst in on its hinges, sending the chimes that hung above it flying across the room to hit the wall with a blunt wallop.

Patty jolted in surprise and spilt almost her entire teacup of hot coffee down the front of her yellow waitress dress, instantly staining her brilliant white apron. She growled in horror, "Why, I never!"

The fresh gust I had longed for blew in along with two rebellious looking greaser type guys. They slammed the door and began peering out through the windows with such haste that I barely got a glance at their faces. Even so, there was no mistaking the guy on the left. That freshly slicked-back mop of brunette hair undeniably belonged to Eyeball Chambers.

"Oh my…" I muttered, stopping short of taking the Lord's name in vain in front of Patty. "Speak of the devil."

"The devil is right!" She snatched a stack of serviettes to dab at her dress. "You see? Those Chambers are trouble wherever they go." With a second glance at the two, her jaw dropped and she muttered, "Oh… bother. That's the Merrill boy with him."

"The who?"

"If anyone is capable of causing more trouble than a Chambers, it's a Merrill."

The Merrill drew back the window netting a crack more for a better view at the street, his perfectly styled blonde hair catching the light. Standing at over six feet tall, he had an imposing stature. His plain black T-shirt hugged his strong arms and back which had impeccable posture, and his fresh, blue Levi's… were blue. That's it.

He didn't look at all familiar, yet as I eyed the back of him, I felt strangely drawn to him somehow. No, NOT like that. He didn't look familiar but strangely… he felt familiar. It's hard to explain, even now, and at the time it made no sense at all, so I brushed it off as being utterly ridiculous.

"What do you think they're doing?" I whispered.

"Let's stick to ourselves and they'll leave soon. Whatever they're doing, we want no part in it."

She was probably right. It looked like they were about to ambush someone.

"Come on, you little fucker, walk right this way." It was the Merrill who spoke. His satiny-soft voice had a menacing edge that made my whole being prick up and stand to attention.

Patty, on the other hand, now had a fiery-red face to go with her hair. "How dare he use language like that in here!" The wad of serviettes she had been dabbing herself with were slapped down onto the counter as the plan to keep to ourselves was abandoned.

"That's right," Merrill muttered. "Say goodbye to your fuckwit friends, and hurry the fuck up about it."

"Hey, you boys!" Patty shouted across the room as I battled to hold her in place. "Get out! You're not welcome in here!"

Eyeball glanced over his shoulder and did a double-take when he saw me, but our presence didn't seem to phase him because he went straight back to looking out the window. The blonde, however, didn't react in the slightest. Like a cat stalking a mouse, he stayed absolutely still, his acute focus fixed on the street.

"You boys! Did you hear me?"

"Patty!" I said, still struggling to hold her off. "Why don't you go clean yourself up? If you want them out, I'll do it."

"Have you just lost a screw?" That sentence came out thick in her southern drawl, almost making me laugh, even under the circumstances.

"If you bust down there all wound up like this, you'll only boil up the situation. Just take five."

"Errm… no."

"A waitress with spilled coffee all down her front is not a good look," I quickly added. "They'll probably laugh you off." Yeah - OK, so I was clutching at straws for an excuse, but for never-less-than-perfect Patty, it worked.

She screwed up her nose. "Fine! But I want them out!" She grabbed a few more napkins before storming into the kitchen out the back.

I waited a few moments, hoping the guys would leave on their own accord and the problem would resolve itself. If I didn't have to deal with them, I wouldn't.

"Fuck, he's going the other way!" Eyeball said.

"He's going to the store. Just wait."

"Shit," I muttered, rolling my eyes, then checked Patty hadn't heard me. If these guys were in too much longer, she'd be back and ready for war. And then I realized there was every possibility they might drag whoever it was they were waiting for into the diner. That would be a nightmare!

So, with great reluctance, I bucked up the courage to approach.

"What's going on?" I asked, folding my arms.

Again, the Merrill didn't react to my being there. His stance widened as he put one hand on the door handle while tightening the fist at his side. Eyeball, though, gave me a distracted glance over his shoulder. "Oh hey. It's Cassie, right?" he muttered, focused more on the street than me. "I didn't know you work here."

"Guys, you can't be in here. And please tell me you're not gonna drag some poor soul in, off the street."

"Won't be botherin' you much longer, sweets."

"Who are you waiting for anyway?" I tried to peer past them for a peek, but the window netting obscured the view, and Eyeball seemed adamant about blocking me from getting too close.

"Hey, Cassie?" Eyeball said. "How 'bout you err… grab us both a milkshake, huh? You do milkshakes?"

"So you can buy yourselves some time? Do you think I'm an idiot? You guys need to-"

The blonde whipped his head around and shot me a cold, blue-eyed glare that literally made me flinch. I instinctively took a step backward, and he nodded as if to say, "That's right. Back off." But then, in a surprising twist, his expression softened into one of curiosity. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

My whole being prickled as if I had just touched a live, electric fence. Standing mere inches from him now, I scanned his features, searching for any hint of familiarity. Those striking blue eyes, the pinched curves of his upper lip, and even his interesting earlobe shape - his face nor presence was one not easily forgotten, and yet I couldn't place him.

"I don't… I don't think so," I murmured in barely a whisper.

"Yeah, you're-"

"There he is!" Eyeball said, and the ambush was back on.

With a forceful yank, the door swung open, and a new fresh breeze wafted in, blowing lose hair strands around my face, as the duo rushed out. It slammed shut behind them, the abrupt sound reverberating in the now vacant space. I gazed out the window, tracing the path of their hasty departure, but they had already vanished from sight.

Lost in contemplation, I drifted back to the counter and found my coffee. I sipped at it, savoring its bitter sweetness while Patty entered, renewed with a clean apron and back to her usual perfection.

"Oh good, they're gone," she said. She sighed deeply, resetting her nerves.

"The blonde one..." I said, deeply in thought. "Who is he?"

"Now, Cassie!" she bit, that southern drawl virtually slapping me in the face. "Don't you tell me that after all the men I've tried to get you to meet you wanna-"

"What? No! I'm not- Uhhhgh!" I felt my cheeks heat up. How many times did I have to tell her I don't want a man in my life? "You said his last name is Merrill, right?"

"John Merrill. And knowin' that name is as close asyouwanna get."

She took a cloth and wiped the laminate where her coffee had splashed, while I chewed my lip like a piece of gum. There was only one explanation for how this stranger could have recognized me. In all the months since I moved to Castle Rock, not once had that happened, and it seemed unlikely to ever happen again. John Merrill was the one person—the only person—who might be able to give me some answers or even a clue about what had happened to me.

I fidgeted with my coffee cup, turning it around and around, until it drove Patty mad. She put a fist on her hip. "OK, fine. Maybe this'll talk some sense into you. That boy is right at the bottom of the no-goodin' barrel. He beenbredto be bad. Now, I'm talkin' thievin', startin' fires, causin' fights - he's so doggone arrogant, he just pushes his way straight into that bar down there and drinks all day long, and he ain't even 21!"

"How does he get away with all that?"

"His uncle owns half the town - the lumber yard, the Emporium, the Mellow Tiger, the garage - but every one of them legitimate businesses was built on dirty money, honey. Like I said, 'bred' to be bad." She leaned in close and rubbed her delicate hand on my shoulder. "Stay away from him."

I nodded, but not in agreement. It was more of a 'noted' nod while I thought about how I might tactically extract information from him without showcasing myself as a complete nutcase.

"Now, let's do the lockup," she said. "I'll be stoppin' by Mr. Mathews' place tonight." An impish grin dimpled her cheek. "And I'm planning on warmin' him with more than just a hearty roast..."

I choked on my coffee. "Too much information," I coughed. "Don't worry about me, I'll find my own way home."

I grabbed the smaller-than-usual bag of trash and headed out the back of the store. Letting the back door of the diner close, I stood in the alcove, seeing that the weeks trash hadn't been collected again. I turned my nose up at the repugnant stench that was bulging under the lid and threw my smaller bag of old food against it. Ugh.

I walked out into the open space of the alcove, towards the dusty back alley. The fresh air washing over my face refreshed me, but my mind was still busy with thoughts. Sure, it was possible that John Merrill harbored answers. And it was likely that I'd never meet another soul who could give me those answers. But I was well aware that whatever he knew about me might be more burdening than enlightening. It could change everything for me. And once I knew, I could never unknow.

"Let me up, asshole!" The horse cry echoed through the back alley. The husky voice was young and familiar, and it dawned on me who the guys were watching out the windows.

"Shit..."

I rushed to the corner of the alcove to peer down the length of the back alley to see a kid writhing on the gravel among cigarette butts and broken glass as the Merrill guy dug his knee into his spine. It was Chris.