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ONE DAY

by Dan Sinclair

August 2011

Jimmy opens his eyes. He stands over another man’s lifeless body, which remains face down in merging puddles of piss and blood on the asphalt behind Rex’s Bar.

He stands there for another minute, breathing. Then he runs through the back alleys and side-streets. The scattered street lamps provide the only light on the empty town’s streets. The moon hides behind black sky.

Once Jimmy comes to the main road, he stops and hails the only car on the road—a station wagon with a sign that reads Taxi. The cab stops and he gets in.

The driver's pale, round face is almost hidden by the graying brown curly hair coming out from under his red Phillies baseball cap. “Where to?”

Jimmy gets in the back, looking back towards the alleys. “Just drive. I’ll decide later.”

They travel on. The cabbie drives and hums a tune. Jimmy tries to catch his breath while adjusting himself comfortably in his seat. Neither speaks for a while.

The cabbie reaches up and smacks a small turtle shell hanging from the rearview mirror, forcing it to sway back and forth. “Did you decide yet?”

Jimmy says, “Maybe a diner.”

“There’s a Denny’s two blocks up on the right.”

“I don’t want to go there.”

“There’s a Friendly’s up towards 202.”

Jimmy shakes his head. “Just drive another ten minutes down this same road. Then I’ll go to the first diner you see.”

The cabbie shrugs, taps his turtle shell, and hums his tune again. The shell silently swings back and forth. The cab remains the only car on the road and only the fire hydrants, trees, and streetlamps occupy the sidewalks.

A few minutes later, they are no longer in town. The row houses and brick sidewalks become fir trees and fog. The lack of streetlamps makes the air outside even blacker than before.

The cabbie looks into the rearview. “You get into a fight, killer?”

Jimmy’s eyes widen. “What?”

“You look like you got in a little scuffle.”

“I guess so.”

“You win?”

Jimmy says, “Next diner you see.”

Now.

The cab pulls out of the gravel parking lot, leaving Jimmy to walk toward the aluminum-sided diner with the huge white sign with gray letters that reads Hungry Holly’s Diner. Some dirt decorates the windows and some graffiti highlights the walls.

Inside, the diner’s counter is solid mahogany with a glazed top. It’s topped off with checkered placemats matching the empty black and white barstools lined up in front. An elderly couple sits at one of the tables by the window sharing a late-night dinner of eggs, ham, toast, and a chocolate milkshake. A bald man stands cross-armed in his stained wife-beater behind the counter. His name tag reads Phil.

Jimmy asks, “Do you have a bathroom?”

Phil doesn’t uncross his arms. “Are you going to eat here, killer?”

“Yes, I’m hungry.”

“The bathroom is only for people who eat or work here.”

“I’ll eat. I need to use the bathroom first.”

Phil points in the direction of the elderly couple. “You see them?”

“Yes.”

“First door past them.”

Jimmy passes the old couple on the way to the bathroom. The man has a full head of white hair while the woman’s hair is gray and thinning. Both smile at Jimmy. He smiles back, and then enters the bathroom locking the door behind him.

The small, green bathroom smells of mildew and old mops. Jimmy washes his hands and face in the sink. Dirt and blood mix with the water before heading down the drain. He winces while pulling a tooth from the back on his neck.

He pulls a roll of hundred dollar bills from his pocket and counts them. He then takes a few of those bills and puts them in his wallet. He puts the rest in his front pocket. He leans forward, his left arm bracing him against the sink while he runs his right hand up and down his face as he closes his eyes. Upon opening them, his cold reflection stares him down—the bags under his hazel eyes throbbing.

“Congratulations on your life.”

Now.

Jimmy takes a seat at the counter. He searches for a menu, moving from side to side trying to feel at ease. The old couple takes turns feeding each other with a fork. Phil comes back to the counter carrying a large stainless steel pot. He places it down in front of the Jimmy. “What are you going to eat?”

Jimmy asks, “You have hamburgers?”

“Sure.”

“Are they big?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll take two of them with everything.”

“You want fries?”

“No, onion rings.”

Phil shakes his head, “You eat like my wife.”

“Is that good?”

Phil heads back to the kitchen. “She’s dead.”

“Oh.”

Jimmy flicks the metal pot a few times with his finger, creating a hollow echo over and over again. A few minutes later, a young woman walks out from the kitchen. She removes the pot, placing it behind the counter on the floor. Her skin is bronze, her dark brown hair tied in a ponytail. Her name tag reads Ines.

Ines says, “You weren’t going to eat that, were you?”

Jimmy says, “No. Hamburgers.”

She ties an apron around her black and white shirt, revealing only minor cleavage. She takes out a pack of cigarettes and some matches and lights up. “Good choice.”

She then grabs a pot of coffee, holds it up, her head cocked to the left. Jimmy nods and she pours him a cup.

Jimmy says, “Thanks.”

Ines says, “No problem, handsome.”

She leaves the counter and checks on the elderly couple. Phil returns with Jimmy’s hamburgers and a basket of fries. He places them on the counter.

Phil says, “What the hell you do with my pot?”

Jimmy picks up a hamburger. “Nothing.”

Phil glares him. He crosses his arms. Ines jokes with the old couple. Jimmy eats his hamburger.

Now.

Jimmy’s cell phone rings. He grabs it and looks at the Caller ID. He then jumps to his feet, and heads for the door.

Phil says, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Jimmy points to the door. “To take this call.”

“You plan on paying for your meal?”

“I’m not done eating. I have to take this call.”

Phil crosses his arms. “Why can’t you take it in here?”

Ines walks back to the counter. “Let him go, Philly-Phil, you big crank.”

Jimmy says, “I get bad reception inside.”

Phil says, “You need a new cell phone company.”

Jimmy pushes the door open. “Okay.”

Outside the diner, he turns back toward Phil glaring at him through the dirty windows. Jimmy smiles and waves. Phil gives him the finger and heads back to the kitchen. Jimmy answers his phone.

A voice on the other end says, “Where the fuck you been?”

Jimmy says, “Sorry, didn’t recognize the number.”

“Where you at?”

“Holly’s Diner.”

“The place where Terrence shot the ugly bitch in the face?”

Jimmy kicks at the gravel. “I guess.”

“You get the money?”

“Yeah.”

“Good job.”

Jimmy digs his foot in one spot of the gravel. He’s now hit dirt. “Last job.”

Loud laughing comes from the other end, so loud Jimmy has to move the phone from his ear for a minute. He stops kicking gravel and puts the phone back.

The voice asks, “You think you have a choice?”

Jimmy says, “I killed him.”

The voice hesitates, then says, “He probably deserved to die anyway.”

Jimmy says, “I want out.”

“Jimmy?”

“What?”

The biggest window on the diner frames the old couple laughing at each others’ jokes as the old man blows his nose into a red handkerchief.

The voice says, “There is no out.”

Now.

Jimmy sits back down at the counter, his hands cover his face. Two half-eaten hamburgers and a full basket of fries rest in front of him.

Phil walks over to him, “I thought you said you weren’t done eating?”

Jimmy says, “I’m not.”

“You haven’t even touched your fries.”

“I wanted onion rings.”

Phil snatches the basket of fries from him. “We don’t have any.”

Ines walks back over and fills Jimmy’s cup of coffee. “Don’t mind Phil. He misses his wife.”

“Okay.”

She places the pot back on the burner. “Tough day at work?”

Jimmy says, “More than a day.”

“I’m about to take a break,” says Ines. “Care to join me?”

“Sure.”

Ines leads him to the booth by the far right of the diner, opposite side from the elderly couple. Jimmy sits down expecting Ines to sit across from him. She instead sits close to him on the same side.

Ines says, “Sometimes this booth feels perfect.”

Jimmy says, “I can see that.”

Ines lights a cigarette and offers one to Jimmy. He doesn’t smoke but takes one anyway. Smoking has never looked more inviting to him. As she lights it for him, her white blouse shifts revealing a tattoo of a young boy above her left breast.

Jimmy says, “Nice tattoo.”

Ines doesn’t even look at it. “My brother, Diego.”

“Cute kid.”

Ines puts the matches away. “He was.”

“All grown up now?”

Ines takes a deep drag on her cigarette and then blows the smoke towards the diner ceiling. “Never got the chance.”

Jimmy’s face reddens. “I’m sorry.”

Ines says, “You didn’t know.”

They both smoke their cigarettes. In another life, Jimmy picks up his little sister from school. They are close. Talk about everything. She introduces him to her best friend, Diego. He thinks Diego is a smart kid and glad that she has found such a great friend. He drives them to the Dairy Queen for ice cream.

In this life, Ines’ eyes are reddening. She moves closer to him. “They never found the guy that killed him.”

“What happened?”

Ines looks down toward the table. “Some guy ran him over.”

Jimmy attempts to put his arm behind her on the wooden bench, but instead drops it back down to his side and looks at the table. She doesn’t need that from a guy like him.

He asks, "It was an accident?"

She says, “People kill for lots of reasons.”

He says, “They do.”

He can’t tell if she’s crying or not. The bench feels crowded and warm, like it’s full.

He asks, “You okay?”

She looks back at the old couple. “I just wish I had a face to go with the anger.”

Jimmy says, “I don’t know what to say.”

She looks Jimmy in the eyes. “There is not much to say.”

Jimmy looks down. “Guess not.”

Ines gets up from the table. “One day.”

“Yeah.”

She lights another cigarette. “Thanks for the talk. I don’t get to do that much around here anymore.”

“Sure, Ines.”

Now.

Jimmy eats his hamburgers at the counter. Ines brews a new pot of coffee. The elderly couple gets up to leave, walking hand in hand. They wave to Ines as they leave.

She waves back. “Have a great night, you two.”

A few minutes after they’re gone, Phil comes running out from the kitchen. “Did those old fucks pay for their meal?”

Jimmy says, “Take it easy, man.”

Ines says, “I’m sure they paid.”

Phil marches over to the table and picks up the check. He looks around the table searching the plate and napkins, then glances around the floor. “I don’t see any money.”

Ines says, “I’m sure it’s there.”

“They didn’t leave it anywhere.”

“Look around,” says Ines. “Maybe it fell.”

“I’ve looked. It didn’t fall.” Phil gets up, marches back to the counter, and picks up the phone. “I’m calling the cops.”

Jimmy jumps up and scurries over to the table. He bends down to the floor and pretends to look around under the chair where the old woman sat. He takes the wad of hundreds from his pocket and places it on the floor. “Phil, I found their money.”

Phil hangs up the phone. “What?”

Jimmy holds up the stack of green. “Looks like they left a big tip.”

Phil and Ines, eyes wide, almost afraid, walk over to get a closer look.

Phil asks, “Where did you get that?”

“Right here,” says Jimmy. “Under her chair.”

Ines says, “That’s some tip.”

Phil takes the money from Jimmy’s hand. “That wasn’t there.”

Jimmy says, “It was right here under the chair.”

“I looked.” Phil examines the money. “It wasn’t there.”

Jimmy says, “It was right there.”

Phil counts the cash, “There’s like $1500 dollars here.”

Ines stares at Jimmy. “Oh my God.”

Jimmy goes back to the counter and finishes what’s left of his hamburgers.

Now.

Ines sits next to Jimmy at the counter staring at him. She alternates hands running them through her long, dark hair she now wears down. Jimmy stares at the white plate in front of him, covered only in scattered crumbs.

Ines asks, “Where did you get that money?”

Jimmy says, “Not mine.”

Phil comes back in. He motions for Ines to get up, but she doesn’t move. He then turns toward Jimmy, “I don’t know what you think you are up to, smart guy.”

“I’m not up to anything, Philly-Phil.”

“I just called the cops, asshole.”

Jimmy finishes the last bit of hamburger and licks his finger tips. “Do you think I could get those fries back?”

Phil says, “No.”

Now.

No one speaks for the entire fifteen minutes or so it takes for the police to arrive. The sergeant, chest all puffed up, sits down next to Jimmy.

He places his gun on the counter. “You have some sort of night tonight?”

Jimmy just stares at his plate.

The sergeant asks, “You are Jimmy McGinley, right?”

Jimmy nods.

“We’ve been looking for you for quite awhile.”

Jimmy looks at him. “Here I am.”

Ines paces back and forth, clutching her chest. She then stops and stares at the two of them from the counter. “What did he do, officer?”

The officer says, “He’s done plenty.”

Ines turns to Jimmy. “Like what?”

Jimmy says, “I’d like to confess.”

The officer asks, “Is this about Terrence Willard?”

The table the old couple sat at earlier remains as they left it. There was some food left on the old woman’s plate but not a crumb on the old man’s. Both plates contained forks, knives, and napkins and are pushed together at the center of the table. The chairs were pushed in.

Jimmy says, “No, this is about a little boy named Diego.”

A tear comes to Ines’ eye. She cocks her head to the left, staring at Jimmy. Her lips twitch like she wants to speak but no words come out. She massages her shoulder.

Jimmy says, “It was a hit and run a couple years ago.”

Ines punches her breasts slowly and calculated. “It was six years ago.”

Jimmy says, “Six years ago over on Front Street.”

Ines says, “It was on Matlack.”

Jimmy offers his hands out for the sergeant to cuff him, “I ran him over six years ago on Matlack Street.”

Ines says, “What are you doing?”

Phil says, “Arrest him.”

The officer looks confused. He looks back and forth from Jimmy to Ines to Phil. He looks to the other policemen. They just look back blankly.

Jimmy says, “Arrest me.”

Ines asks, “Why are you doing this?”

Phil puts his arm around Ines. “Will you please get this murderer out of my wife’s diner?”

The sergeant shakes his head and handcuffs Jimmy. The other officers read him his rights. They lead him out of the diner. Ines breaks away from Phil and runs after them.

She screams at Jimmy, “What the fuck are you doing? Who are you doing this for?”

Jimmy turns to face her before the officers shove him in the back of the police car. “Here’s a face.”

The police shove Jimmy in the car. Phil grabs Ines and tries to comfort her as she tries to fight free. The police car drives off.

One of the officers turns over his shoulder, “Hope you’re comfortable back there, killer.”

Jimmy doesn’t respond. The cage in front of him, the doors that can’t open from the inside, the low ceiling—he really fills the back seat.

In another life, Ines and Jimmy meet at a bookstore. They start dating and fall in love. He works in a bank and she teaches kindergarten. They get married in Paris and have beautiful children. They grow old together, sitting on a small couch holding each other close, feed each other, smiling. They die happy at the exact same moment.

In this life, the back seat feels cramped. No room to move. Outside the car, the purple sky awakens. Jimmy knows the sun will rise soon. He rests his head on the top of the seat, relaxes, and closes his eyes.