Niteblade – March 2009

Jerrod didn’t stop though. He leaned forward, his large frame seeming to loom over her even sitting down. “You want to have this out, Melanie? Do you really? Fine, let’s have it out. I am an orderly person. I need order to be happy. You are the avatar of chaos. You are its unholy queen. Unless we get some distance between us, we are going to kill each other.”

Melanie had a brief vision of Jerrod drawing his gun and shooting her right there in the diner, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Jerrod would never shoot his gun unless he knew exactly what he was going to put in the paperwork afterward. She opened her mouth, using her gape as a placeholder while she wracked her brain for the perfect response, but Jerrod didn’t wait. He slammed his chair back and stalked to the door, shoving it open with one beefy shoulder. Then he crossed the bustling sidewalk and climbed into his patrol car parked by the curb.

He’s just right there, thought Melanie. He hasn’t even pulled out yet. I could catch up to him right now. But she let it go. Running after Jerrod’s car with all the morning commuters watching would just be the final humiliation. Instead, she sat back and watched him slowly pull out into the nearly stopped traffic. It sort of ruined his dramatic exit to still be sitting in his car in front of the diner. She stared at him through the window, but he wouldn’t turn and look.

“Hey sweetie, you gonna finish that?”

Melanie looked around. “Me?”

A grumpy looking counter man said, “Yeah, you, with the bagel. I hate to rush you through your breakfast, but third shift is over, and in ten minutes I’m gonna have 30 cops looking for a table. Maybe I can get you a box.”

A minute later, Melanie was standing outside clutching a plastic box holding her now rock hard bagel. She stared at it. I didn’t plan on eating this, she thought. Jerrod had made it as far as the end of the block. He sat at the intersection with his right blinker on. A vagrant in an oversized green army coat sat in front of the restaurant, staring up at her. His cool, blue gaze made her skin crawl and she turned away.

Two people pushed past her to get to the door of the diner. I should move, she thought. I should go somewhere. I shouldn’t just stand in front of a diner all day. She looked around, searching for inspiration. Down the street, two women sat on a bench, reading a map. Traffic was locked in the parking lot they called morning rush hour, the drivers sealed into their cars. It was Portland’s rainy season, so people got in the habit of leaving their windows up. To Melanie, it made everyone look like trapped and terrified animals. Someone on the next block honked. That was unusual enough to make her look for the culprit. People in Portland didn’t honk, even in rush hour traffic. Melanie was pretty sure honking was an east coast thing. He must be a transplant.

But nothing gave her enough inspiration to actually move. Finally, in desperation, she pulled out her cellphone and stared at it, willing it to give her an idea.

The vagrant behind her coughed and she glanced back at him. Their gazes locked again, but this time she didn’t turn away. Instead she fumbled for the bagel box under her arm just as her cell phone began to ring. “Hello?” she said, flipping it open.

“Please remain on the line for an important mess—” Melanie slammed the phone shut. She had no patience for a telemarketer right now. She juggled her bagel and the phone around, trying to hand the bagel to the homeless guy. She managed to get the bagel box into her other hand but as she held it out to the vagrant, she lost her grip on the phone and it clattered to the sidewalk.

Quick as a viper striking, the vagrant snatched it up.

Oh perfect, thought Melanie. “Please give that back,” she said.

The vagrant pushed some buttons on it and stared at it intently. Melanie remembered something on the news about how many street people have a form of mental illness or learning disability. She told herself to remain calm, and be reasonable.

“Look, if you need to make a call, I’ll give you change. Just let me have my cell, please.”

He clutched the phone to his chest, along with the bagel, and gave every impression that he planned to keep them both.

Out of the corner of her eye, Melanie saw Jerrod turn the corner and then quickly come to a stop again. Melanie felt her calm cracking. “I just can’t take this right now, ok? It’s isn’t even 9am yet, and this is already shaping up to be the worst day of my whole life.” She pointed down the street at Jerrod’s car. “My boyfriend just dumped me in front of a diner full of people. And maybe the only people that ever call me are telemarketers, but that is my phone. Give me back my fucking phone!” She took a threatening step toward him, anger robbing her of good sense.

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