I look back at my time working at the Blue Point Diner with fond memories. It was run by 80-year-old twin sisters, Rose and Violet, the dearest little old ladies you'd ever meet. Rose was the oldest sister – the bossy one (no, I'm just kidding). She was the one who ran the business, did the books and managed the stock. Violet was the head cook and managed the menus, although both of their cooking was amazing. They'd been cooking since they were old enough to take a hot pan out of an oven, and with 70+ years of experience, they had it all down to a fine art. You could dine in for a meal or pick from the selection of fresh buns, rolls, cakes and slices. Violet's homemade pumpkin soup was our most famous dish. It was a deliciously rich and spicy stew which had even won interstate awards. People would come from all around just to try our food, and that's what made the Blue Point iconic to Castle Rock.
There was just one downside to the place - it was a cesspit for gossip.
Everybody knows just about everybody in the small town, and rumors used to waft through the diner as freely as the smell of Violet's best-baked bread. As I served customers, mopped floors and cleaned tables, I only had to open my ears to learn what people thought about Chris and his family.
White trash. Scum of society. Those were the terms I'd hear.
"I saw Mrs. Chambers in town the other day with her young ones," they'd whisper to each other. "The poor little dears in their tatty clothes and bare feet."
"All of those boys will end up alcoholics just like their father. Mark my words."
"Or they'll end up in jail like the eldest one."
"Both Richard and Christopher are already well on their way to that - the little thief."
"Who knows what will become of the small girl? Only two years old and no hope in life."
"She'll wind up pregnant before she's left high-school, you just wait and see."
OK... so, Richard aka "Eyeball" wholly fitted their views from what I had seen – but, I felt they were being grossly unfair on the young ones, and I had trouble believing the things they said about Chris.
One week after the incident in the alleyway, the sound of laughter from outside the diner caught my ear. I glanced up from the table I was wiping to see two boys in their early teens walking past the window. The blond one was holding his dark-haired friend in a headlock as he playfully rubbed his knuckles into his scalp.
I dropped my cloth and rushed out onto the street. The two skinny figures continued up the sidewalk, one with a dirty gray bedroll tucked under his arm and the other with a rucksack strapped to his back.
"Chris!" I called out.
They both stopped and turned around, their eyes squinting at the unfamiliar face striding towards them. Chris elbow-nudged his friend when he finally recognized me. "That's that girl," he mouthed before giving me a small congenial smile.
"How are you?" I asked him when I caught up with them. "I looked for you when those guys finally let me leave, but I couldn't find you."
"I'm fine. Are you OK?"
"Yeah," I shrugged.
"Thanks for the other day..."
"I'm just glad I was there to help." I wanted to find out more about Ace's secret but decided to err on the side of caution since his friend was there. "Listen... have you gone to the cops about that?"
"Are you kidding? No way."
"You could do him for assault, you know."
Chris gave a slender laugh. "If I went to the cops and Ace got put away, I'd get hided by the rest of them and Ace would kill me when he got out."
"The rest of them?"
"Look, Miss, you obviously know nothin' about those guys or you wouldn't be saying this stuff. Take my advice – just forget about everything you saw and everything you heard, and stay as far away from them as you can. Come on, Gordie."
The two turned to leave, and I let them go, watching as they headed up the pavement. I'd get another shot at talking to Chris. I had to. I didn't trust that 'Ace' guy one bit. He could grass, he could blackmail me; his options were endless, and it was too risky for me to stay in such a weak position. I needed ammo. Something I could throw back at him if he ever fired one at me. And from what I saw in the alleyway that day, Chris was holding a grenade.
-2-
Another day went by. The latest news, hot off the press, was that Chris's father had started another bar brawl, his mother was covering a new bruise on her wrist, and the six-year-old boy had stolen a loaf of bread from the bakery. The first-grader was talked about like he was starting early in following the Chambers' traditions, but I remember being six and bread was never at the top of my 'want' list. I bet he took it because he was hungry. I wondered if that was also Chris's reason for stealing the milk money... which was another story the townspeople kept in circulation.
Honestly, every time I heard someone whisper Chris's name, I had to bite my tongue. I had to wire my jaw shut. Their jeers infuriated me and, if I didn't value my job so much, I would have vented that infuriation all over each of them outright. I had only been in Chris's presence for a few minutes, and yet, I sensed a maturity about him that was beyond his years. Everyone was so wrong about him. So wrong. I just knew it.
---
Now with two good reasons to find Chris, I decided to go out to look for him. One afternoon, I filled a large paper bag with chicken rolls, mini-doughnuts and sweet slices, threw a couple of dollars into the till and then headed over to the local high school. School was nearly out, and I waited across the road, checking my watch and resisting the urge to start on the mini-doughnuts.
The bell rang and kids flooded out of the gates like rampant waters bursting through a dam. I kept my eyes peeled for Chris's short, blonde hair bobbing past me amongst the rest of the crowd, but he wasn't there. The rampant waters eventually slowed to a gentler flow until the school had been sucked dry.
I was sure I hadn't missed him and thought that maybe he hadn't gone to school that day. Undecided on what to do next, I propped myself up on the nearest wall and pulled out a chocolate frosted mini-doughnut to munch on. After doughnut number three, I noticed Chris walking out of the school hall.
He strolled through the school gates with a heavily gratified satchel slung across his chest, and he had his head down, looking blue. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to see me, and so I slid off the wall and ran across the road to catch up to him.
"Chris, how are you doing?" I asked, making him jump slightly.
"Jesus, don't sneak up on me like that."
"I'm sorry, I thought I'd missed you."
"Nah, I gotta report to the principal after school every day." He suddenly looked at me with concern. "Why, what's up? Is everything OK?"
"Everything's fine; I'm fine. I was just wondering how you are."
"You came looking for me just to ask me that?"
"Well... yeah," I shrugged. "I mean, I've been thinking about how those guys treated you and about how you feel like you can't do anything about it... that really blows. And I just wanna know that you're alright; you know?"
Chris stifled a laugh. "I'm alright, Miss. I'm used to it."
"You mean... he does that to you a lot?"
"Even before I could walk."
"That's awful..."
"Yeah well, life blows."
"Listen... I've been thinking, and I'm just gonna come straight out with this. I want to help get Ace off your back for good. Now, I understand that you can't grass on him, but... there's more than one way to skin a cat – you know what I mean?"
"Miss, don't get any bright ideas. It's best just to stay out of his way."
"It's Cassie. And I know that you know something you're not supposed to know, and judging by how anxious Ace was the other day, I bet it's something incriminating, isn't it?"
"I can't talk about that."
"But he'll never know you told me. I could find another way to gather evidence against him-"
"Miss – Cassie - just forget it, alright? You don't wanna get involved. You don't know him. Ace always finds out the truth. And besides, he's not the only one who'll get into trouble - my brother will too. So, just let it go. Please?"
Chris quickened his pace to get ahead of me; to get away from me. "Shit..." I muttered to myself. I couldn't argue with him – I didn't want to. This was turning out to be a touchier subject than I first thought. I had to respect his wishes even if it meant letting Ace keep the upper hand.
"Wait... there's one more thing," I called after him. "I need help with something myself."
Chris stopped and deliberated before turning around. "What?"
"Well, it's these delicious pieces of caramel square," I said, peering into the bag with a troubled frown. "I need someone to help me eat them otherwise I'll stuff myself full and get fat. Can you help?"
Chris's mouth curved into a grin. It was the first time I'd ever seen him smile, and it was like watching heavy, dark rain clouds part to reveal blue skies.
-3-
Rose and Violet had been kind enough to let me stay with them in their large, three-bedroom townhouse for some time, but I soon needed my own space, and they needed theirs. When I heard that Violet was planning to sell the place where she lived with her husband before he died, I immediately offered to rent it from her. It had been vacant for six months and was still fully furnished, which was kinda eerie in a way, but I quickly breathed some life back into the place. It was a two-bedroom cottage that was too small to swing a cat, but that was just perfect for me.
Chris walked inside and gazed around. "This was the diner lady's house."
"Still is," I said, grabbing some plates and glasses from the kitchen. "I'm renting it from her."
"Oh. It's just you here?"
"Yeah. Take a seat." I laid out the goodies I had brought with me and two glasses of milk onto the small, antique dining table. "The doughnuts are my favorite."
Chris took a seat and my advice on the doughnuts. He bit into one of the soft pastries and murmured in delight. "Holy shit, these are good," he said and licked the generous amount of frosting off his lips. "It must be awesome having all this good food around you all day."
"Yes. I'm very lucky. And not just for the food. I have a lot to thank the ladies at the diner for."
"Yeah?"
"They took me in when... when I was done for, basically. They're like my surrogate grandmothers," I laughed. "They're almost like a new family."
I looked at Chris who was slowly chewing on the last mini-doughnut in thought. I could tell what he was thinking – it was the obvious question to come to mind. I didn't like talking about it, but I knew that if I wanted him to open up, I'd have to be willing to do that myself.
"You wanna know where my old family is, don't you?"
"Umm... only if you want to tell me?"
"Both of my parents are... gone." I cleared my throat which had suddenly gone dry. "My father was a pilot and crashed in a storm when I was five and my mother... well, she wasn't well. Mentally."
My mind went back to the night I found her. She was blue... cold... just gone. The memory was still so vivid that I physically had to shake myself out of that awful place and back into reality.
Chris blushed. "Oh... sorry."
"It's alright. I've gotten through it. The ladies helped me land on my feet."
Chris respectfully bowed his head, and I appreciated that but didn't want to be a burden on him.
"You've gotta try the caramel square," I said, forcing myself to perk up. "It's amazing. Not too sweet, but more... buttery." I gave him a slice to add to his handful.
Chris took a large bite. "Yum," he said, rolling the portion over in his mouth.
"So, how did the camping go the other day?" I asked, pouring two large glasses of milk from a bottle. "You and your friend were going camping, right?"
"Just on our buddy's back field. We used to do it a lot, but now only when Billy's gone for the weekend."
The name rang a bell, and I wondered if there was a chance he was the same guy I'd met once. "Billy... he doesn't happen to have thick, dark ducktail, does he? And a strong accent?"
"Yeah... you know him?"
"I just met him once. And he was with a guy called 'Vince'. If there's an opposite to the word 'gentleman', they'd be it."
Chris smirked. "They're in Ace's gang."
"Ace's gang?"
"They call themselves The Cobras. Perfect name since they're all snakes."
"I should've guessed those guys would be chummy with Ace. So, what's his problem anyway? Why does he pick on you all the time?"
"For kicks," he shrugged. "But for the last few months... ever since... he's been worse 'cos he's still holding a grudge on Gordie and me."
"Ever since what?"
"Just something that happened last year. We stopped Ace from taking something that he thought belonged to him, but he didn't belong to no one."
"He? Like a pet or something?"
"No, not a pet..."
"I don't follow."
"The point is that Ace hates us now more than ever, and he doesn't just pick on us for kicks anymore. He does it for revenge."
"Chris, are you sure you don't wanna take this guy down?"
"I want to, sure. But I can't get my brother into trouble. My old man would beat me for a week. And my mother... having two sons in prison, neither of them old enough to buy beer, it would devastate her."
"Right. I'm sorry. I won't ask again."
"Besides, Ace ain't half my problems." Chris got a distant look in his eyes and cringed a little as if his mind was taking him on an unpleasant trip through some bad memories. "Do you know what it's like for me, living in this town? It's like trying to fly with your feet glued to the ground. Gordie says I can get out if I try, but trying ain't ever good enough. I'm really behind in school, Cassie, but I've been trying to catch up. Gordie's been helping me, and I'm really starting to understand stuff, you know? Stuff's starting to make sense, and I'm listening better in class. But... the teachers, they don't see all the progress I've made. All they see is the fuck-ups. All they see is what they wanna see. I dunno why I bother."
"It must be frustrating. I get that. But the thing is... they're all assholes. And you've gotta decide that they don't get to think they're any better than you. Just keep studying and keep learning, because all of that knowledge you're gaining, they can't take that away from you."
"That's true."
"Look at the way you handle Ace. No matter what he does, no matter what he says, you never let him get the best of you. Don't let this town get the best of you either. You can be the kid who was looked down on and walked over or the kid who fought the odds and rose above it. I genuinely believe you're gonna make it out, Chris, and you're gonna soar way above the heads of all of us."
Chris nodded in thought.
"Sounds like you're lucky to have Gordie. Where do you usually study?"
"We got a treehouse. But it's small... and a lot of guys know about it..."
"Well, if you ever need a place, you're more than welcome to come here."
"Seriously?"
"Sure," I shrugged. "It'll be quiet, no interruptions... I'm a good cook..."
"Gee, thanks, Cassie."
"I'll show you where I hide the key in case I'm not here."
I gave him a warm smile. It was a great feeling to help him out, like my life had a new purpose. Perhaps I had merely contributed a single rung of the tall ladder that he would have to build and climb, but I was determined to be there to guide him on his way up.