Midnight Diner

"Coffee, hon?"

"Please."

"Looks like you’re having a rough night."

"You could say that again, sweetheart."

"How ‘bout I get you some pancakes and you tell me about it."

"With bacon."

"You got it hon. Now, tell me, who’s the dame?"

"What?"

"Well a guy like you, comes in here alone, chin to chest, ragged expression such as yours. Gotta be a dame."

"Sorry toots, you're the only dame I've talked to all day."

"Well, I can't be the problem. So, what is it? Tough day at the office? Big, bad boss coming down hard on you?"

"You could say that."

"Looks like I'm doing all the saying. Why don't you tell me what's eating at you?"

"I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Ha! Trouble? You're my only customer in hours and it’s just me and ol’ Mickey working the grill. So how ‘bout it? Tell an old gal your story."

"That's not the kind of trouble I meant."

"Oh, come on now. What’s a little story between friends?"

"Friends? I just came here for a hot cup of joe. And you? You're a complete stranger."

"Hi, I'm Darlene. I'm a Capricorn. I like the color blue and I have a profound obsession with the lives of strange men I’ve just met."

"Hi Darlene, pleasure to meet you."

"And who might you be?"

"Albert, but my friends call me Bert."

"Okay Bertie –"

"Bert."

"Oh hush. I'm gonna call you Bertie, get used to it."

"Could you check on my bacon?"

"Sure thing, Bertie."

"You know, you're an odd dame. I bet you've got some stories yourself. How ‘bout it, Darlene? Come on, what’s your tale, nightingale?"

"Here are your pancakes and side of bacon. Need a refill on the coffee?"

"Yes, Please. Are you avoiding my question Darlene?"

"Yes, Bertie, I am. No one wants to hear my sad story."

"Well I mean, if I am going to share my troubles with you..."

"What, and my favorite color is not enough for you? Okay, okay let’s see...I’m nothing special. I mean, Mama got sick when I was young. Didn’t make it to my eighth birthday. After that is was just me and my stepfather. Sad sack of a man."

"How awful. Could I get some syrup?"

"Sure thing, sugar."

"Thanks. So, your stepfather, what was so bad about him?"

"Never saw the man without a drink in his hand after Mama died. Couldn’t take care of himself, never mind a kid that wasn’t even his. Fell asleep in the bath. You know, the long kind of sleep. Too drunk to even lift his head for air. Left me without two nickels to rub together. Made me grow up faster than any girl should. The streets weren’t any kinder. Ran away with the first man to promise me a better life."

"Better life, huh? Gave you picket fence and a couple of rug-rats, I bet."

"Not quite. Turns out I married a worse drunk than my daddy. Only things he gave me were a pair of black eyes and a set of broken ribs."

"Ouch, so where is he now?"

"Prison, probably. Haven’t exactly kept in touch. I left him some time back. It was risky. Scary man such as he is; woman with no prospects such as I was. I just couldn’t go on living with the fear of my husband’s fists controlling my every thought. But I did it, I made it out alive. Now I’m a waitress in this two-bit diner to pay the rent of my luxurious studio apartment. Thrilling, really. I’m waiting for Hollywood to call about buying the movie rights."

"There's got to be more to you then the rotten men in your life. Forget them for a hot second. What are your dreams? What keeps you going? What makes you tick?"

"Tick?"

"Yea, you know, what makes you want to get up every morning? What keeps that dizzyingly smart, cockeyed smile on your face day in and day out?"

"Well now, I didn't peg you for such a thinking kind of man Bertie. You're gonna make me blush. If you wipe that sneaky smirk off your face, I’ll see if I can pony up. Hmm…Well when I was married there was no room for dreaming. I got out of bed every day because that's what was expected of me. And if I didn't do what was expected of me, oOOo boy, did I get it good. But I guess these days…. these days It’s hope. Hope keeps me going."

"Hope?"

"Yea, hope. You got a problem with that, tough guy?"

"Hope is just a little idealistic for a dame like you, don't you think?"

"When you go so long without having anything to look forward to and then break free, hope tends to shine a little bit brighter…. you know, for a dame like me."

"So, what are you hopeful about?"

"Opportunity, I guess... I got a blank slate with the freedom to fill it however I see fit."

"Hmm…"

"Anyway, that’s me. Now you owe me your story. What’s got you so glum?"

"This is good bacon. Give Mickey my regards."

"Bertie…are you avoiding my question?"

"Not at all… fine…. Have you ever had to make a choice that tore your insides apart?"

"Ooh no, no more questions for me. This is your tale to tell."

"Alright, alright. So, my brother-in-law got in some trouble –"

"HA! there is a Dame!"

"My sister’s husband."

"Well... a sister’s a dame..."

"She died a while back."

"Oh Bertie, I'm so sorry."

"I promised her I would look after her goofy husband. Good kid. I grew to love him like my own flesh and blood."

"So, what did the kid do? Steal? Cheat at cards? Have a torrid love affair with a married woman with a vengeful husband?"

"Do you want to hear my story or not?"

"Sorry, go on."

"Like I was saying…. Good kid, but he made friends in low places."

"Johnny had those kinds of friends – Right. Sorry. Continue."

"These friends, they were a lot tougher than him. One night, I guess he felt he had to prove himself and things went sideways fast, as these things tend to start sideways, if you know what I mean. Anyway, the fuzz showed up and those lousy mugs he called friends scattered. Chicago lightning started to rain down, but from what I heard, no one could tell who shot first."

"He got out alright though. Your brother-in-law I mean, He’s safe right?"

"Not a scratch on him. A copper ended up getting clipped and kicked it hours later. Now my brother-in-law and all his buddies got matching bracelets."

"Sounds an awful lot like your brother-in-law’s story to me. Where do you come in?"

"I had to protect him. His friends answered to some powerful men. Robert, that’s my brother, he swore he’d stay clammed up, wouldn’t breath a word, but you can’t pay the tax man with promises. So, I had to sweeten the pot or else they’d kill him in his cell while he slept."

"That's terrible. What did you have to offer that would guarantee his protection?"

"The only thing I could offer, my services."

"Oh no, you didn't! Aren’t you scared what they might ask you to do?"

"I got a head for numbers. Ran the books for a bit. Saved them some money. Caught a chump skimming every now and then. Made the bosses happy."

"Good. So, Robert is safe, and your debt is paid off."

"Well, if you can even call it that."

"What do you mean? An eye for an eye, that’s how it should work."

"You don’t just get to walk away from these guys, no one does. And Robert was still rotting away in the slammer for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He wasn’t packing heat that night. The kid has never even held a gun. So, I made the bonehead decision to ask the bosses to get him released from prison."

"And they were so grateful for all your good book workin’ that they did it at no charge."

"Maybe you’re more idealistic than I thought."

"Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she? So, how long will you have to be their indentured accountant?"

"Tending the books wasn’t enough this time. My ask was just too big."

"What? It’s just a case of a neatly placed bribe. What more could they want?"

"To release a suspected cop killer would be quite a hefty bribe."

"I guess so."

"You seem to know a bit about shady back dealings, don’t you?"

"I told you, Johnny, my ex, that is, he had those kinds of friends. I’m familiar with the life."

"Right, Johnny…"

"So, what was the quid pro quo?"

"I have to kill someone."

"Have to? As in... haven't yet?"

"Not yet. See, that's my dilemma. I'm not a killer. I'm not even the violent type. I just feel I owe it to my sister to keep Robert safe and in order to save Robert, I need to kill someone else."

"Someone? Like... anyone?"

"No, no, they’ve already fingered the mark."

"You think you can go through with it, Bertie?"

"Do I have a choice? If I go through with it I get my family back, safe and sound, and I keep my job. If I don't, Robert dies, and they'll never trust me. And chumps they don't trust get good and zotzed."

"Zotzed?"

"Yea. Killed. You know, Bumped off…. Cut down…. Snuffed out…. They’ll send me to sleep with the fishes in a pair of cement shoes."

"Colorful way to put it. How about I freshen up your coffee Mr. Albert?"

"Oh, come on Darlene. Why so formal? I thought we were friends."

"Right... Bertie...Sounds like you got a tough choice to make. Why don’t I just give you some space to think about it. Good man such as you are, that’s got to be a tough decision. Gotta do some real deep soul searching before killing someone. I bet you wanna be alone with those thoughts of yours. I think I will just go take my break now… I got a call to make anyway."

"You’re not going anywhere, Darlene."

"Is that a… a gun? What are you going to do? Shoot me? Here? In the middle of the diner? Mickey is right back there. I will scream."

"Quit your yapping."

"Excuse me?"

"I said shut it! You know, come to think of it, turns out you were my problem, and you are a dame. Guess you were right all along. Smart girl. Shame I gotta shoot you now."

"You're not gonna shoot me Bertie."

"Oh yea, says who?"

"Why would you ask me all about my hopes and dreams if you were just gonna turn out the lights?"

"Maybe so you'd be thinking happy thoughts at the end."

"My thoughts ain’t so happy now."

"Hey, I tried…but now it's time to say goodnight, sweetheart."

"Bertie, No! You can’t do this!"

"Oh, and Darlene…Johnny says ‘Hi’."