C. LaSart: Ad Nauseam: 13 Tales of Extreme Horror

Should I call someone?

Who would I even call?

He had no family left; his Dad had run off with a cocktail waitress shortly before he was born, and his mother had been an only child. He had no friends, and never held a job aside from repairing fencing for the farmers down the road. He and Mama hadn’t required much money to live on, and she had inherited a tidy sum in her bank account, including the house, when her own folks died. Now that bank account, like the house, was his. His decisions and his life were now his own, as well.

When he was still in his twenties, Jimmy had mentioned to Mama that maybe he ought to date girls, like the rest of the guys in town did. Mama quickly squashed that ambition, reminding him how cruel the kids, especially the girls at school had been. Mama always said he’d been born with more heart than brains, and she fostered his shyness, not wanting to let anyone be in the position to hurt her only child.

At thirty-seven, James DeLeon hadn’t dated since high school. Even then it had only been a few times. Both girls were so shy and sweet that he had been afraid to bring them home to his Mama, worried that she would hurt their feelings. He didn’t know if he could date at this point, or if he even wanted to. He didn’t know how to even start.

Jimmy got to his feet and brushed off the back of his pants. No good. He was going to have to change. Another shower probably wouldn’t hurt, either.

The hole in the ground remained, innocuous in the morning light, no outward evidence of the digestive remains it had gobbled up moments before. He once again wondered if there was someone he could tell about the phenomenon, but could think of no one, and walked into the house to clean up.

A cheerful bell announced Jimmy’s arrival as he entered the diner, closer to lunch time now, since he had showered and changed. There were quite a few patrons, including a couple who occupied his usual corner table. Jimmy took a seat at the counter, disappointed his comfort zone had been invaded. Jimmy nodded at Sam as he walked over in his usual stained apron, looking bored, and laid a laminated menu on the counter in front of him. Charlene only waited on tables, and sitting at the counter made Jimmy the cook’s responsibility. He looked over at his table in hopes the couple might be finishing up, but Charlene was just delivering their food.

Jimmy really wanted a beer, but ordered a cup of black coffee instead while looking at the menu. Someone pinched the back of his arm, startling him from his sullen inspection.

“Hey there Jimmy.” Charlene stood at his elbow, holding three empty coffee cups by the handles expertly in one hand. Her smile, beautiful as always, made his heart skip.

“Uh, hi, Charlene.” Jimmy felt himself blush, and tried to stop, only making the heat in his face worse.

“Sorry about the table, Hon. If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve saved it for ya.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need that table. I was planning on sitting at the counter today anyways.” God, I always sound like an idiot when I try to talk to her! Jimmy wished he could just slither out the door.

Charlene cocked her head to one side and smiled, clearly amused by his awkward behavior. Before she could reply, a woman across the restaurant called out, her hand waving frantically in the air.

“ Waitress! Can I have my bill? I’m late for a meeting!” Jimmy thought the woman was rude, and hated her for interrupting their conversation.

“Just a minute,” Charlene called back.

She reached out to grab Jimmy’s elbow gently, the feel of her hand reminding him of the tingly feeling he got from the hole. He tore his mind away from the memory just in time to catch what she said to him. “I go on break in about forty-five minutes. Would you be able to hang around that long? There’s something I wanna ask you.”

“Sure!” He said too quickly. “I mean… um… of course. I haven’t even ordered yet. Was thinking maybe a hoagie, or a French dip—”

She smiled at him as the woman needing her bill began to holler again. Charlene hurried away and called over her shoulder. “Talk to ya in a bit, Jimmy!”

As if on cue, Sam came over with his pad and stood in front of Jimmy expectantly, not saying a word. Jimmy asked for the first thing on the menu, which happened to be a Rueben and fries. He didn’t like sauerkraut, but at the moment didn’t care. His mind whirled.

What could Charlene want to ask me? What if she was going to ask him to quit coming in on her shifts? What if she thought he was creepy? Jimmy squashed the thoughts before they could blossom into a full blown panic. She probably needed someone to a repair a fence for her Mama. Or maybe for a new boyfriend?!

Oh geez! Here we go again!

The next forty-five minutes were the longest in his life, but Jimmy managed to eat his lunch, shoving the sandwich in without thought, and was surprised when it was gone. He almost left then, but suddenly the lady herself slid into the seat beside him, a diet coke in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other.

“Whew! What a day! I think everyone must be crabby today. I swear if one more person complains about their food or the bill—she stopped abruptly, her big blue eyes bright with mirth. “Say Jimmy, would you mind talking outside? I only get fifteen minutes and I’m dying for a smoke.”

Jimmy smiled in his awkward way and nodded. He always found it very charming how she spoke so fast and never seemed to run out of things to say. Charlene made him almost dizzy with her constant chatter, but he liked it. She never seemed self-conscious. He followed her out into the humid afternoon, the bell over the door sounding as they left.

Charlene looked the same as always. Beautiful. She kept her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wore pink eye shadow and lip gloss that matched her uniform. Her skirt was short and tight, giving Jimmy a glimpse of long, tan legs that made him feel slightly lightheaded. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the brick wall, dragging deeply and squinting across the street at their reflections in the shop windows. As an afterthought, she held the pack of smokes towards him.

“Want one?”

“No, thank you.” He almost added Mama wouldn’t like that , but had enough sense to realize this wasn’t the sort of thing a grown man should say. Then he glanced at her legs and the roaring blush was back.

“So anyway, I was thinking,” Charlene looked away as she spoke, paying too much attention to her cigarette. “There’s this picnic on Sunday after service, and I was thinking about going. But with me being divorced for so long and never showing up with a date to anything… I know those old women always have their tongues wagging and they have to be saying I’m some sort of lesbian or something.”

He knew what a lesbian was, but he was unsure about the mechanics of such a relationship, so he nodded in a way he hoped looked knowing, saying nothing. Charlene stared at him for a minute, her eyebrows raised in expectation, before she finally spoke again, huffing in exasperation.

“I was wondering if you would like to go with me.”

“Go with, um, you?” Jimmy felt dizzy. Was she asking him out? “Like a date?”

“Yeah. Sure. A date.” Charlene looked doubtful now and Jimmy felt that familiar panic well up inside him. She might be changing her mind.

“Yes! Sure I would!” Jimmy beamed but she looked unsure, so he toned it down a notch, hoping he appeared less eager. “I mean, yeah. I would go with you.”

Charlene smiled then, her teeth uneven and yellowed from nicotine, but still the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. She took out her order book and scratched something on it with her pen, before ripping the sheet off and handing it to him.