Tide Chapter 2Posted: August 10, 2011
Within no time daylight cut through her dreams waking Myra. The world outside the RV was foreign unknown through the tint of slumber on her amber eyes. Steadily she began focusedon the parking lot that Lyon was turning into. The green and black sign for CJ’s Kitchen was just another slab of asphalt and another local menu.
Lyonal jerked the hunk of metal into park.
“Ah, time for good eats my sweet,” he said with a sigh of enjoyment. Meal times where the only times he granted Myra any sort of affection.
The restaurant was just unlocking its doors for the morning regulars. Most of them just required coffee and a bun to jump start there day, then they were out the door again. Lyonal was the first to grab a booth as Myra trailing after him. The glare of sun was magnified my the wall to wall glass and mirrors. Myra quickly hid her face under her thick endless jet black hair.
Early mornings were never her thing. Myra’s birth certificate stated she was born at 2 a.m. and she insisted it was because even from the womb she hated the sun.
“WhatCanIGetYaFolks,” said the waitress who had approached the booth during Myra’s fit to shield herself. The old woman’s words sounded linked like a the clanging of chains inside her mouth.
“Two orange juices, two menus, and a cup a coffee to start,” said Lyonal. As he smiled his scars expanded to let the sunlight in.
They mulled over the menus while they waited for the old waitress to balance all three drinks.
It was a tradition of RV living that Lyon never like to eat at the same place twice. Menus folded into the numerous atlases of the RV glove box was evidence. Most of the places included a dare devil heart attack meal that if completed where free, which was right up Lyonal’s alley.
“I’m going to have the CJ’s classic, said Lyonal when the waitress returned. “Could you be a dear and get me sausage, bacon, and ham. Choosing ain’t my strong suite.”
“ItsAnExtraDolarandAHalf,” said the waitress.
“Can I have the almond cinnamon homemade granola with bananas and yogurt,” said Myra emerging slightly from her hair shelter.
“AlrightThen,” said the waitress as she turned to leave.
Lyonal’s scars creased as he turned frigid again.
“Do you always have to get the most hippie sounding food on the menu. Next you’ll be ordering chick peas and sprouts,” he said. “Jezz, you need some fat on them bones girl.”
Myra burrowed herself deeper into her hair before rolling her eyes at the suggestion.
Life on the road included grease holes and stationary poses in the passenger seat. She wasn’t about to be anorexic but being to fat for the seat was something to avoid. Not that Lyonal worried about that issue, or any issue for that manner. He just consumed like a tornado would a house.
By the time he plate was bare, Myra has only half completed her granola. Looking up she noticed a boy across the room staring at her.
His jagged black hair stood out against his pale skin. In the morning sun his emerald eyes glinted at her as he smiled, rose into a tall lanky figure, then turned quickly to leave out the back door.
Myra couldn’t place his face but he looked familiar, as if she had known his face all her life. Inside her something tugged to go after him.
“I’ll be right back,” she said as she rose from the booth.
“Ar ya going to finish this hippie food,” asked Lyonal.
“Just ask for a doggie bag. I’ll eat it for a snack later,”she said before she heading off to boy’s booth.
The table was bare when she got there. Looking out the window she saw no lingering sign of the figure that was just here a moment ago. Inside her something shifted to tug even harder at her than usual, but with no inkling of meaning she resigned to the bathroom.