Free Cape Refuge by Terri Blackstock

under massive oaks. She smiled in spite of herself. It was just as she had pictured it.
    She adjusted her backpack and headed up West York Street past a parking garage and groomed strips of grass until she reached another park. She had heard that Savannah had been designed and built around parks, each representing some famous part of their history. She had always wanted to visit this city and see for herself, but today she was tired and hungry. She could come back and see it another day. Right now she had to find a place to stay before dark. On thirty-three dollars, it wouldn’t be easy.
    She saw a diner across from Telfair Square and started toward it. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, before Jack had come home and blown a gasket. She had wound up spending the night in her neighbor’s car, hunkered down so he couldn’t find her. This morning there hadn’t been time to eat. She shoved back her blonde hair and went into the old diner.
    She took a stool at the bar and set her backpack down on the one next to her.
    â€œCan I help you, honey?”
    A waitress stood across the bar from her. The woman’s blonde hair was a little too teased, and she desperately needed to have her roots done. But she had kind eyes even if they were caked with eyeliner and half a tube of mascara. Her lips were red and outlined a little bigger than they really were. Her fingernails, tapping nervously on the Formica countertop, were painted bright red too, with little stars embedded in the center of each. She popped on a piece of gum. “Want to hear the special?”
    Sadie shook her head and absently brought her right hand to cradle her left, still tucked under her shirt.
    â€œI’d just like a hamburger,” she said, “and a glass of water.”
    The waitress pulled the pencil from its place over her ear and, chomping on her gum, wrote on a slip of paper as if she couldn’t remember the order. “Anything else, honey? A piece of pie maybe?”
    â€œNo, thank you,” she said.
    The woman went on her way and in a few moments came back with a plate bearing an open hamburger and a tall glass of water.
    She set the check down next to the plate. Sadie picked it up. “I’ll pay now, if that’s all right,” she said.
    â€œSure, honey. I’ll take it.”
    Awkwardly, Sadie reached into her backpack with that one good hand and groped around until she came to her wallet again. She pulled out a five-dollar bill and laid it on the counter.
    â€œWho won?” the waitress asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
    Sadie glanced up at her. “Won what?”
    â€œThe fight you were in, honey.” The waitress leaned down conspiratorially on the counter. “That’s an impressive-looking shiner, if you don’t mind my saying so. And it looks like your arm might be even worse. So who won?”
    Sadie lowered her gaze to the countertop. “I fell,” she said.
    â€œFell.” The waitress laughed. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Said it myself.” Again she bent across the counter and whispered. “Never met a girl yet who fell on her eye. So what’s the matter with the arm? Is it broke?”
    Sadie cradled it again. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think so. Probably just bruised.” She knew better. She could see where the bone had separated, and the pain had been unbearable all night and most of the day.
    The waitress came around the counter. “Let me see, hon,” she said.
    â€œI’m okay,” Sadie said. “Really.”
    The waitress drew a deep, laborious sigh, then straightened up. “Okay, I got you. All you have to say is, ‘Tammy, mind your own business.’ They say it around here all the time. Never hurt me yet.”
    Sadie smiled.
    â€œEat your hamburger,” the woman said, “and if you’re still hungry after, I’ll throw in a piece of pie, no