The Keeping(29)

Moving to the counter, Mel chose an empty stool and hopefully ordered a cafe latte only to receive a blank stare from the waitress. With a sigh, she settled for regular and turned in her seat to take in the atmosphere of the diner. A myriad of food scents tantalized her nose; cinnamon, pancakes, bacon, frying onions... The sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen, the hiss of grease as it sizzled on a griddle... It was all comforting and familiar, reminding her of her own waitressing jobs back in Chicago. Nostalgically she thought of her fellow waitresses, the regular customers, Joe the cook, the long hours, the lousy tips, her sore feet... Hmm, maybe she wasn’t feeling so nostalgic after all.

Pushing thoughts of the ‘good old days’ aside—because quite frankly, they weren’t that good—Mel let the buzz of voices wash around her as she sipped her coffee and pondered how to pass the time while she waited for a response from Ryne. Absentmindedly, she began to follow the different threads of conversation.

“And then I said to him, if that’s how you feel...”

“My back has been so much better since I got that new mattress...”

“If you really want your engine overhauled, I’ll contact Ryne...”

“So then she had the nerve to...”

Wait! Back up. Hadn’t she just heard Ryne’s name mentioned? Mel swivelled the stool she was perched on and scanned the crowd for the source of the conversation. Two women were talking at the first table. A group of elderly men sat by the next. At the far corner, a group of teens had congregated and on the far side of the counter, two men... Yes. It was them. Discreetly, she shifted over one spot and tilted her head in their direction, thankful that she’d always had good hearing.

“Ryne’s busy fixing up that old place of his that he bought from the Nelsons, so he doesn’t have a lot of spare time, but I know he needs the extra money to pay for repairs.” The man talking was in his mid-fifties with a bit of grey at his temples. Mel noted that his hands showed signs of hard work, their strength and capability evident even as he cradled a cup of coffee in them. Despite the relatively new soft grey jacket he wore, Mel could tell that this was definitely someone who knew about physical labour and from the faint traces of grease around his nails, she determined he was probably an auto mechanic. She gave herself a point for her deductive skills and then turned her attention to the second man, who she judged to be a farmer.

“Thanks, Ben. I love that old truck and I don’t need it right away...if Ryne could even work on it in his spare time that would be great. I don’t care when it’s done.”

“All right then. I’ll give him a call...or better yet, he’ll be in town tomorrow. He covers for me on Mondays, running the gas pumps and doing repairs, so I can catch up on the paper work from the previous week. I’ll talk to him, and if he’s interested, he can stop by on his way home and look the old girl over, see what he thinks needs doing...”

The two men tossed some change on the counter and walked out, still talking. Through the window, Mel watched as they parted ways, one getting into a car, and driving off, while the other—Ben—walked across the road towards the service station, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking the door.

A dog came bounding out and Mel recognized it as the one she’d seen yesterday, waiting to cross the road. She smiled and wondered how Ben had managed to train the dog to do a trick like that. To the best of her knowledge, dogs were colour-blind, so how did it know the difference between a red light and a green one? In her mind, she could see the man squatting on the ground at the curb, talking to the dog and explaining the intricacies of safely crossing the road while the dog nodded solemnly, absorbing this new knowledge. Shaking her head, she watched as the animal in question bounced around, no doubt excited for some company.

The waitress came by to top up her cup of coffee and must have noticed that Mel was watching the man and his dog.

“That’s Ben Miller and Harley.” The woman gestured with the coffee pot towards the activity across the street.

“He’s a nice looking dog. A lab?”

“Yep. About three years old. He’s supposed to be a guard dog, but he’s too darn friendly and not overly smart. If anyone were to break into Ben’s place, the only thing Harley would do, would be to drown them in drool.”

“I think he seems pretty clever. Yesterday, I noticed him waiting for the light to change before crossing the road.” Mel questioned the waitress’s assessment of the animal.

“Yeah. That is sort of strange. He never used to do that, but about a month ago he ran across the road and almost got hit. Ryne—he’s a guy that works for Ben—saw it and scooped up Harley, took him to the corner and in less than half an hour had him trained to use the light. Strangest thing we ever saw. The whole town was talking about it. Josh Kennedy—he owns the local paper—even ran an article about it, but Ryne didn’t want any credit or to have his name mentioned. Said he didn’t have time to talk to all the dogs in the area, but he’d tell Harley to spread the word.” The waitress laughed. “That Ryne can be so funny sometimes.”