My Invisible Chains

The Unexpected Tip

“Mrs. Smithers, are you paying attention?” My ball point pen was sketching something close to a brain on the front page of my note book.

“Uh, yeah, yes I am.” My hand dropped the pen and retreated under the desk. Mrs. Elisabeth turned back towards the class.

“This will be your assignment for the weekend, I expect to see your work on my desk Monday before class.” Simultaneously everybody grabbed their books from under their desk.

“Miss Smithers, would you come speak with me please.” I threw my bag over my shoulder and walked towards her desk.

“Yes Mrs. Elizabeth?”

“I expect the best out of every student who attends my classes. Do you understand?” Letting out an unintentional sigh I looked up.

“Yes Mrs. Elizabeth I understand.”

“Good. Now it is my understanding that you work at a diner in town, is that true?” She had just finished re-organizing all of our quizzes.

“Yes, I do. Did Grace tell you about that?” She smiled. “No Grace did not tell me about that.”

“Then how,”

“Kristine, I make it my business to know all about my students.” She placed her laptop in her book bag. “Just know that if you ever need a ride or anything else I’m willing to help. That will be it.” I stood there for a moment longer and then turned and walked towards the door. As I reach the door a familiar pressure formed in my chest. My arm stretched out preventing me from passing through the door. I then laughed and turned.

“Have a good weekend Mrs. Elizabeth.” She looked up and smiled again.

“thank you, and I wish the same to you.” My legs then made their way through the hallway into my locker. I laughed again. That was the most foreign conversation I’ve ever had. I couldn’t believe I actually said have a good weekend. Not only that but Miss Elizabeth had offered me a ride, anytime. I knew she was nice but not that nice. Another large smile attempted to form on my face but I quickly wiped it away forcing myself two enter the real world again, where good weekends only happen every one hundred years and where nobody offers help unless they would like something in return.

Here is your rack of ribs sir." After art class I had made my way down to the diner. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, that will be it." It was an hour till nine, and I still had studying to do. If only I didn’t need to sleep, then I would have all the time in the world. Looking over at the front desk, there was a boy who kept ringing the service bell. He was smiling like an i***t to his six, seven, no eight other friends. Walking over, I could tell they were a mix of Juniors and Seniors. A few of them seemed familiar. At the desk, I looked at no particular person and said,

"Table for eight?"

"No, table for two," one of the boys said. Him and a few others busted out laughing. After grabbing eight menus, I guided them over to the back corner of the diner, in hopes they wouldn't disturb the other guests. Setting half of the menus on one table and the other half on the other, I pushed the two tables together. 

"Have a seat, and I will be with you in a minute." one of the boys snickered. I could hear him saying to his friend,

"Think she could have taken any longer to push the tables together?" Ugg, if I survive the last hour of this shift, I will be invincible. After making a few more trips to and from the kitchen I came back to the party of eight.

"Are you guys ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?" No one was paying attention. They were all watching the two boys at the end of one table who were arm wrestling. One of the boys who was closer to my end of the table cleared his throat, catching my attention.

"I think we are going to need a few more minutes. He smiled apologetically at me. Because no one else was paying attention I nodded and walked away. I rushed back over to a few other tables, and helped an old lady who was practically blind out of the diner. She almost tripped on a chair. I then made my way back to the table of eight. "I'm sorry for the wait, do you know what you would like to order?"

"Do we know what we would like to order, no, we've just been sitting here for a year and still don't know." A few of the  boys laughed. "I'll take a large plate of pancakes with bacon and sunny side up eggs, and a glass of Mountain Due."

"I'll do the same thing,"

"Yup, me too."

"With all the same drinks?" I asked, trying to keep up with their orders.

"Isn't that what same thing means?" The boys laughed again. Before I could gather my concentration the fourth boy started hollering out his order.

"I'll take the same thing as them, but without the bacon."

"I'll take the T-bone steak, with cornbread and mashed potatoes, that and a sprite."

"I'd like that too, just with a Dr. Pepper."

"I'd like a chicken sandwich with as much sauce as you can get. I'll also take Dr. Pepper."

"Chicken sandwich with barbeque sauce, and ice water." While flipping over the page I turned toward the last boy who had asked for a few more minutes a while before.

"I'd like a plate of pancakes with bacon and two sunny side up eggs, and a orange juice." After jotting down the last order I turned to the rest of them. 

"Will that be everything?" The rest of them shook their heads and started talking to each other again.

"Are you the only one working on the floor tonight?" I turned around. It was the last boy.

"Im the only one working on this half tonight.” I turned around and went back into the kitchen, hoping to waist as little time as possible. Running back out, there were a few other groups who had their hands raised. They all wanted another shot of whisky or some form of alcohol. I hope they stay through my shift, that way I don't have to help them to their vehicles.

           Back in the kitchen Mr. Darrus had just finished the orders for the table of eight. Placing the two dishes on two separate platters, I rushed back out attempting to balance everything on my forearms. The boys all turned, sensing their food. To my left there was a man starting to get up. Oh great, he's drunk. He started wobbling around, as if his legs were nothing but Jell-O. He didn't say a word, he just started attempting to walk.

"Excuse me sir, would you please sit down." He kept wobbling toward me. "Sir, I'm going to need you to sit down, I'll be with you in a minute." All of a sudden his knees buckled and he fell on top of me. The constant clanking of silverware against plates was replaced by a couple gasps and yelps. The people surrounding me could all see the dishes that were near tipping out of my lax grip. Before he could drag me down with him, I took the toe of my shoe and hooked it around a leg of a chair resting a few inches away. Giving it a flick, it turned around to face me. Then, raising my knee, I thrusted out my leg, pushing the man into the chair. Relaxing my arms, I centered my balance and slowly let the trays rock back to a level position. There were a few people snickering in the corners. Raising my head, my feet started walking toward the table of eight. One, two, three, four. Half of them had their meals. Back in the kitchen, past the man who was limp in the chair were more plates. Loading up my arms again I made my way back toward the table. Five, six, seven, and eight. Drinks and all.

"Hey, nice stunt. I didn't realize we would get entertainment with our meals." Resisting the temptation to shove his face in his pancakes, I started counting dishes.

"Do you have everything you ordered?" As one of the boys began to open their mouth, the one who had been polite spoke up.

"Yes, we have everything, thank you." He glared at the other boys. Turning around I rushed to five other tables. Mr. Darrus was ringing his obnoxious bell, signaling that he needed dishes to be removed. June was being slow so her and my dishes were getting mixed up. My next few trips flew by in a blur. After everyone seemed to be eating, I realized that the man who had fallen on top of me was still in the chair. Walking over, he was passed out and snoring. Great, of all things he had to be sleeping. I took another look at each table I walked closer to the man and nudged him awake. There was no way I could allow him to sleep in the diner. Not only would it disrupt the other guests but I could get in serious trouble. This man was extremely thick, and he was about four inches taller than me.

"Oh, heeeeey darrlinn, yourr loooking nicce this evvvening." My eyes rolled in my head. Up side, he didn't have a problem holding on to me, the trick would be to get him walking.

"Come on, time to get you back to your truck." It was like trying to help someone up off of an ice skating rink. One step, two step, three. After delivering the man to his truck I rushed back in to continue working. There were no more people at the front desk, and there were no more orders to be taken. One by one each table finished with their meals. Coming in through the door was the new cook. He took over for Mr. Darrus after nine on the week days. It was about fifteen minutes away from the end of my shift. Finally everyone had left, including the table of eight. I had made two hundred and sixty dollars. Every table had left some form of tip except the party of eight. My luck.

    After wiping down all the tables I grabbed my coat and purse and walked out the door. The sooner I get out of here the better.

Snow was still falling as I walked outside. It took a few minutes to get to the bus stop but one there, I sat waiting for the bus. Several minutes passed and no bus shows.

"Hey! Do you need a ride?" Looking up I could see a black SUV with it's window rolled down. "It's me from the diner, do you need a ride?" His head was sticking out the window. The rain was soaking his brown hair. "I said do you need a ride?" I was still staring at him. What was he doing here? After a moment he looked down and rolled up his window. He then opened his door and jogged toward me. "Here," He stretched out his coat.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jumping up from the bench, my leg muscles yelled in agony.

"It's pouring and you look like you're dressed for summer, I'm giving you my coat."

"What are you doing out here?" I didn't really care about the rain, how in the world did he find me here?

"I left the diner and saw someone sitting at the bus stop. As I came closer I realized it was you. So I came over to see if you needed a ride." I was still staring at him blankly. "Look, I'm offering you a ride, you can either get in, or you can walk the rest of the way wherever you're going. A ride? No, of course I wasn't going to get in his car. For all I know, he may not even take me where I want to go. Against my will, my legs began to walk to the passenger side of the car. I knew I shouldn't trust him, but there was something in his tone and eyes that made me feel safer then what I was on the bench. After seeing me come around the car, he leaned over and opened up the door.

    His car smelled like paint. Like a special type of acrylic paint. The leather seats were black like the rest of the vehicle and it was well vacuumed. He had the heater turned up, causing my numb appendages to tingle. Without saying a word, he shifted into drive and weaved himself into the midst of traffic. After a moment of silence I glanced over. His dark chocolate eyes were fixed on the road. His hair, which had been soaked only moments before, was no longer dripping. "There are a few towels in the back if you want to dry off." His head nodded towards the back of the car. Looking over, there were three white towels on the seat. One had already been used, so I grabbed the next folded one. I had to take my hair out of the pony tail to get everything dry. His eyes glanced every now and then from the road and onto me. "So, what's your name?" He was calm, as if we had met a few times before; which we hadn't.

"Where are we going?" The last thing he needed to know was my name. It didn't matter how friendly he was.

"Do you mind if I call you Waluigi? You know, because it's so much shorter then the acronym WAWG." I had to shake my head to prevent my eyes from rolling all the way back into my head. Looks like smart aleck runs in his friend group.

"Where are your other friends?" He glanced back over again. The large hands that were wrapped around the wheel tightened, they relaxed after he took a moment to readjust himself.

"They all came in different vehicles. I came by myself." Cool. Great to know. "I'm sorry for the way they were acting." He turned again to try to make eye contact. "They were really being jerks."

"Jerks?" Turning towards him, I let out a sinister laugh. "I could find plenty of other words then that that would fit better." His thin lips pursed. A concerned look was plastered on his face. Funny, like he had anything to be concerned about. After a few moments of looking out my window, I turned to look at him again. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm a nice person and I wanted to help you out." my eyes fell down to the floor board. "Just think of it as a tip."

"A tip?" What in the world was he talking about?

"Yeah, you know, because no one at my table left a tip." What in the world was going on inside that head of his? You don't give people rides as tips. "You do realize that you are receiving a ride from a person you don't know and the only questions you have asked are 'where are we going', 'where are your friends', and why are you doing this'. You'd think you would have asked who I was." Who was he? An interesting question that I really didn't care about.

"I won't know you long enough for it to matter." He frowned again.

"By the looks of it, you don't seem like the type of person who receives a tone of help."

"I don't want to talk about it." I turned the rest of my body toward the window away from him. He didn't need to know about me, and I didn't need to know about him. Neither of us said another word after that.

    We drove down the road in silence for about 15 minutes in silence. The rain kept getting worse and worse. The windshield wipers  were going faster than my eyes could keep up. Looking at my watch it was one twenty pm. Mom was still at the hospital, and Liam should still be sleeping at home. Did we still have enough milk and cereal to get through till Wednesday? Before I could find the answer the car came to a stop. We were in the middle of an intersection. No one but us was on the road.

"Why did you stop?" Turning away from the window my companion was resting still in the driver's seat.

"I need to know where you want to go." Looking around, I realized we were at Berkeley Road.

"Turn here on Berkley." I pointed to the right side of Berkley Road. "Go strait till you see a double stop sign, then turn into the trailer park." There was no expression, he just removed his foot from the break and reapplied it to the gas. Within a few minutes we had reached the two stop lights and he made a smooth turn into the trailer park.

    There were about 12 houses in the park, and  each of them seemed to get worse the further in you went. It was actually really embarrassing, being driven by a person who could afford such a nice car like this, and then telling them that I lived in a dump. It didn't matter though, it's not like I could tell him to drop me off at the corner.

    As we drove past house six my shack came into view. On the outside it looked as if the roof would fly away if a soft breeze blew through. The walls were so dull, most would wonder if they had ever been painted at all. The house was either a bazillion years old, or it was just built poorly.

"Stop."

"Number eleven?" He pulled to a slow stop right in front of my house. Without even looking I jumped out, slammed the door shut and started walking up the front steps. There were large puddles of water all over the yard. Fumbling with my keys, I finally found my house key. "Your welcome." My key was already in the door, but I turned around to see the passenger window rolled down.

"What did you say?"

"I said, your welcome." He was leaning over the console.

"For what?"

"For giving you a ride." Oh, yeah. I looked down at my shoes. He did help me, didn't he.

"Thanks." He smiled and nodded.

"Your welcome." the window rolled up and he drove off. I shook my head. I have to get him out of my head. Nothing more than a distraction.