Free NIGHT CRUISING by Billie Sue Mosiman

took a trucker's booth where a black
phone hung on the wall at table level. She sat staring at it a full
minute. Nah. She
    couldn't call him, her
dad. He'd want to know where she was, why'd she leave, would she come
back? She couldn't stand the pain of it. To be truthful she missed
him already, but she'd get over it, she knew. She had to. She could
not live with him, could not, could not.
    She watched the young
waitress. Her hair was short and lacquered stiffly. She wore a teddy
bear sweatshirt and faded jeans that fit her all too well. While she
waited to be served, Molly cataloged the stuff this joint had on the
puke-pink Formica table. The jumble sat on every table.
    Mcllhenny Co. Tabasco
sauce, Cajun Chef hot sauce, ketchup, sugar shaker, salt and pepper
shakers, napkin holder, margarine and jelly tubs (apple and mixed
fruit), low-cal sugar packets, creamer packets, and a generic black
plastic ashtray. Good God. Did they provide for the customers or
what?
    The little waitress
wore a short red change apron with black stitching across the front.
Molly read it when she approached. "My name is Stinky."
    Molly suppressed a
giggle threatening to get up and out.
    "Stinky?" she
asked when the girl stood over her.
    The waitress looked
down at the apron. "Uh, no, this ain't my apron. My name's
Lynette."
    Molly thought that was
pretty fortunate for the girl. "Just coffee right now. I'll look
at a menu."
    Lynette bounced away
and came back with a tan plastic mug of steamy java and a
plastic-encased menu. There were black thumbprints on the front
edges.
    Molly decided on the huevos rancheros . Two eggs served on a corn tortilla with
beans, rice, and their own special sauce. $2.95. Sounded like a
regular bargain if the heartburn didn't kill her.
    While she waited for
the meal, Molly kept looking the place over. She didn't know what it
was about truck stops that Cruise might like. The floor was black and
white tiles. None too clean. The tables out in the center of the room
had chairs with vinyl backs and seats of sick mustard-yellow. Bad
color to have around food, she'd think. On white vinyl-covered walls
hung wooden pictures of sunsets and Indians, a picture-frame clock of
a semi-trailer truck parked in autumn leaves.
    In the booth facing
Molly she saw the back of a driver's head. Leaning slightly to the
left or right she could see around him to get a view of his partner's
billed cap. It was black with a red-and-white eagle on the front.
Beneath the eagle was the legend RIDE To LIVE, LIVE To RIDE. At least
it didn't say BORN To LOSE.
    There was a salad and
ice cream bar. Another waitress took care of the trade at the center
tables. She was fiftyish, gray hair, blue pants uniform, and a light
gray fleece-lined sweater jacket. She looked tired. Compared to the
bouncy Lynette of the red apron, she looked dead.
    The huevos rancheros arrived and looked every bit as inviting as a roadkill. Molly's
stomach did a flip-flop looking at how the fragile eggs were buried
under the heaps of beans and rice.
    Lynette said, '"There's
Tabasco sauce there if you want it."
    Molly nodded dumbly.
She'd have to drink her coffee before she'd ever get up the courage
to tackle this thing.
    While she sipped the
black brew, two truckers entered trailed by a woman, dressed as they
were, in jeans and sweatshirts and jackets. They passed Molly's
booth. The woman had long blond hair. Bleached, but pretty. On the
back of her black jacket was an American flag. Below the flag it read
STONE MOUNTAIN. Molly knew where that was. In Georgia. A big ring of
keys jingled and clanked on the woman's sturdy hips as she moved
past. Molly thought she smelled the scorched scent of a hot radiator
as they wove through tables to the back.
    Travelers. Just like
her. Driving those big rigs and eating in dumps like this one.
    And Cruise liked them.
She'd have to get him to confide in her just exactly what it was
about bad art, scrubby jeans, and greasy food that he found
intriguing.
    Then