HUNTER LAKE 6/100 The Cafe

HUNTER LAKE 6/100 THE CAFE

HUNTER LAKE 6/100 THE CAFE

June stared at the manila envelope, sealed. She edged one of the corners over, the wire clasp was splayed open. It was heavy, she could feel the weight of the pages, wondered what they held. A circle of moisture left a stain on the envelope from the bar. She turned it over again, no labels, but a pencil marking on one corner with the name “Joel,” and four numbers. When the envelope was tipped at an angle the light from the only window in the room only revealed a few vertical marks.

“Hey got a pen?”

A grey plastic ballpoint with a bent chewed cover bounced across the bar. “Point? Or poke your eye out.” Frank smiled as June shook her head. 

The pen skipped on the beer coaster, June pressed to dig it into the cardboard, finally she etched the numbers without the ink and compared them to the envelope. “Thanks, got it.”

Frank leaned over the bar, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Something.” June ambled out of the bar, cane in hand. The manila envelope under her left arm, the coaster shoved into her grey cargo pants pocket.

Across the street, “Valley Café” flashed neon green. The cobblestone street caught her crutch off and on, and when it did, she didn’t lose her balance. June kept walking. Off and on she lifted up the cane, her feet were steady, she stopped and started again. It seemed like the pain was gone, she continued across the street and lifted her bum leg to step up to the curb, nothing stopped her from stepping up. It still felt good.

“Hey.” The door to the café had opened. It was Mayor Binsfield. The look on his face, his eyes wide open, then the big toothy grin. His wide girth blocked the door completely, and with June’s slight figure in front of him it looked like a stand off.

“Yup, you coming or going,” said June.

“Oh, uh going, or coming,” he didn’t move.

“Getting’ late,” said June.

“Late, yes, better go.” He still didn’t say her name, although there was some glimmer of recognition in his face. At least June thought she saw it.

Again she stepped into the doorway of the little café and still didn’t limp. She continued forward, waiting to feel her right hip give out but she kept on walking. The Mayor’s wife was still seated at one of the booths looking out the window. She would’ve seen the whole thing from her vantage point. She waved June over.

June lifted her hand in recognition, grabbed a menu and sat across from her.

The menu: grilled cheese, tomato soup, hamburger and fries, Mabel’s homemade apple pie with a slice of cheddar. The smell of French fries and the haze of grease from the hamburgers permeated the air. The menu was stained and the plastic protective cover split and aged from use.  June felt thin in comparison to the round smiling face, adorned with cat’s eyes shaped glasses with rhinestones accenting the side tips, blonde curly hair spilling around the sides bouncing as she talked in her bubbling voice.

“I love the grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

June imagined the voice bubbling out of the creamy red steaming salty bowl. “Maybe a salad?”

“Oh no, not for you, you should have the hearty beef soup,” she bubbled.

“Salad no good?” June stared at the menu, peering between the cracked lines of plastic, as though something interesting would eek out.

“Thanks Dottie,” who brought the soup and sandwich to the table.

“Yes ma’am.” Said Dottie.

“Did you hear that June, not Mabel, not Mrs. Mayor, but Ma’am.” She bubbled out a chuckle.

“Hey, that sandwich looks good!”

“They used Jarlsburg and Marscapone with red peppers, and sprouted bread.”

“Where?”

“there’s a new market “Green Market” started by Sally a few months ago”

“There’s something now, here in a forgotten town in North Dakota.”

“Well ever since Henry came back, things started to change.”