Jimmy Joe slammed on the brakes. The work van skidded to a stop at a red light. He didn't have to do it. There was no near miss. No car crash. No kid chasing a ball into the road. He looked into the rearview mirror.
Fabian, who had slept the entire trip so far, lurched forward. The strap of the seat belt tightened around his throat so hard that the sudden tug dislodged the half-smoked cigarillo from behind his left ear and into his lap. His eyes flew wide open. He managed an OOOF sound.
"Wakey, wakey!! Hands off snakey!" Jimmy Joe laughed, looking at the bewildered look on Fabian's face.
The van exploded in laughter.
Fabian even chuckled as he tucked the cigarillo back in its spot, "Ha ha, you trifling mother-fuckers," he muttered, trying not to laugh outright at the gag pulled over on him.
Scott, still laughing said, "You should have seen the look on your face." He made a choking face.
Fabian grabbed his crotch and said, "You can choke on this right here."
The van erupted with fresh laughter.
Then, almost as suddenly as the laughter had started, it stopped.
A woman in her thirties jogged through the crosswalk in running clothes, headphones on, completely unaware she'd become the center of attention for five electricians sitting in a company work van.
The crew, even Jimmy Joe, sat up and noticed.
Tommy started to roll the window down to let out a whistle, caught Scott looking at him, and thought better of it.
Fabian gently nudged Seth in his ribs with his elbow and said, "Now that could make me wanna be a runner, Sethy-poo."
"A few years ago," Jimmy Joe muttered, "you boys would've embarrassed us all."
Marion was a small town nestled against the foothills below the Blue Ridge Parkway. Brick buildings lined Main Street. The courthouse stood in the center of town with a Vietnam War memorial watching over the square. Across the street sat an attorney's office, while farther down were a used bookstore, a comic shop, a hardware store, a barber shop, and a handful of restaurants and department stores.
The post office sat at one end of Main Street. At the other stood a massive three-story community building beside a park with a playground, two basketball courts, and a tennis court. Every fifteen feet or so along the sidewalks were brick planters overflowing with mountain wildflowers.
If you looked north along Main Street, you could still see the tall church steeple damaged from a lightning strike the summer just before. Beyond the steeple, you could see the deep greens, blues, and purples of the mountains as they kissed the clouds.
The sidewalks hummed with life as people shopped, jogged, and walked their dogs. You could hear kids playing on the playground and the whack of tennis rackets striking balls. The air was thick with the smell from a hot dog cart parked in front of the courthouse.
Jimmy Joe eased the van into a parking spot in front of the courthouse.
"We have a few choices. The lips-and-butthole wagon," Jimmy Joe said, pointing at the hot dog cart. "Looks like there's a Mexican place down the sidewalk, too. But Jennings mentioned that spot right there."
Jimmy Joe pointed a bony, shaking finger at a building tucked between another attorney's office and a vacuum repair shop. The brick front was painted a mix of dark brown and beige. An American flag hung beside the front door. Two old men sat on a bench outside the windows reading newspapers. A white sign trimmed in red stars read:
Bruce's
Home of the Brewster Burger
Home of 101 Cheesecakes
"Jennings said that place is the best in town. I say we listen to that old bastard and try Bruce's."
The crew agreed. Fabian was already salivating. The words Home of the Brewster Burger sounded just about perfect.
"Looks like we have half an hour before they open. Whatta you say we check out this little town and meet back up?"
Jimmy Joe didn't wait for an answer. He lit a cigarette and walked off toward the hardware store.
Fabian checked himself in the mirror, there was no one in line at the barber shop, so he went for a freshen up. Tommy followed just to go along.
Scott wandered toward the Vietnam memorial in front of the courthouse, stopping to read the names carved into the polished granite.
Seth had finished his paperback somewhere around Shelby. The sight of a used bookstore was too tempting to pass up.
The used bookstore was a small brick box that smelled of old paper and wet dog. Only one jittering fluorescent lit the small claustrophobic room. Morning sunlight cutting through the windowpanes illuminated dancing dust motes in the airflow from a small oscillating fan. Bookcases lined the room and there were four wooden shelves in the middle of it. Tattered dog-eared books packed the racks.
An old woman sat behind a desk with a cash register. Seth hardly saw her sitting in the shadows of the room, She had a burning cigarette and a sandwich in one hand and a folded-over paperback in the other.
To Seth, the place was Heaven. He slowly went about the business of selecting a new read. He paused at the shelf across from the woman he presumed to be the owner. There was a handwritten sign on notebook paper that said "NC Mountain Tales." He picked up a paperback with its cover held together by duct tape. The title on the cover read, Disappearances of Craggy.
"People go missing in them mountains every year." She said it the same way someone might talk about tomorrow's weather.
Seth turned to face the shopkeeper.
"Why, my cousin went missing few years ago on a day hike to visit one of them waterfalls. Police and everyone searched for weeks. They didn't even find her pack."
"You don't say?" Seth responded, genially intrigued.
"Yeah, true story." She crushed out her cigarette and exhaled a breath of foul-smelling smoke. "You don't look familiar, been here before?"
"No, we are just passing through town on our way to Tennessee for a job. One of our Foremen is from Marion, and he suggested Bruce's for lunch."
"You're gonna pass right through them mountains."
A white German Shepherd poked his head out from behind the desk. Seth kneeled to pet the dog.
"Hell, I wouldn't do that. That's Lucifer. He snuck out down to the splash pad at the community building. Had to close shop and drag him back up here. He'll have you stinking to high Heaven."
Seth thought better of it and stood back up.
He set the book about the vanished down on the shelf. "No need to get all wigged out before we get there, right?"
The old woman lit another cigarette and shrugged at what Seth read as agreement, but who knew.
He glanced at his watch. It was about time to meet back up. He settled on a beat-up copy of Stephen King's Pet Sematary.
Seth saw Scott standing silent sentry in front of the memorial. He looked like a statue lost in thought. Scott's family was from a small town just outside Marion, though he'd grown up near Atlanta after his parents' divorce.
Seth walked up beside Scott, the cool mountain air carrying the scent of hot dogs and old brick. Scott was staring at a row of names high up on the polished granite, his thumb lightly tracing the edge of his pocket.
"Uncle Ronnie," Scott said quietly, not looking over. "Jennings always said Ronnie was only eighteen. Never came back. He told me once that he and my dad, and two of my other uncles made the trip to Camp Lejeune to get his body, but it was just an empty box and a flag. He said not one of them said a word on the way down, and they cried all the way home."
Seth stayed quiet, letting the moment rest.
"He was shot down on his way out of the fucking mess. My daddy could never talk about him. Tragic, lost so young."
Scott lowered his head, staring at the base of the stone for a long second before turning to Seth. His eyes held a heavy, knowing look. "He would've liked you, Seth. And... he would've hated what happened to your sister. Whole damn thing was a sin."
Seth felt his chest tighten, but he only nodded. His fingers found the bracelet around his wrist as he looked back at the names carved into the granite.
Scott patted him on the shoulder, breaking the heavy air between them, and looked back toward the street. "Come on. Let's get us one of them burgers before Fabian eats the whole place out."
Jimmy Joe was already sitting at a table with Fabian and Tommy when Seth and Scott made their way to the restaurant. The dining room was small, holding about eight round tables and a bar that faced the griddle. The walls were covered with awards on awards on awards. Framed pictures of Bruce, the owner, with years of Little League Baseball teams that he had sponsored sat on the walls here and there around all the accolades. It was a wall of a man well-lived in service to his community. Every inch of the room was spotless. Not a speck of dust clung to the frames... or crumbs sitting under the tables. The entire feeling on entering the place was excitement. It was the kind of place you knew you would remember just for the environment long after you had forgotten nearly everything about the town.
A joyful bearded man in a yellow t-shirt, apron, and pants that reminded Seth of a day at the circus greeted them as soon as the bell over the door stopped ringing. His voice boomed over the sound of the sizzle on the griddle, the clanking of spoons and forks, and the buzz of conversation in the tiny dining room.
"Welcome to Bruce's! Would you like a table or would you like the bar?" Bruce said with a smile so infectious that both Scott and Seth grinned without effort.
"There with us," Jimmy Joe offered and waved the guys over.
"Damn get over here. I'm hungry. Thought you two got lost and I was gonna have to come hunt you down," Fabian growled. Fabian was notorious for getting testy about a rumbling stomach.
Scott and Seth sat down at the table.
"Can I get you fellas something to drink?" Bruce asked.
"Water for me," Scott ordered first.
"Same for me."
"Do you want to see a menu?"
Scott said, "I think we are both dying to try a Brewster Burger, I mean this is the home of it, right?"
Bruce let out a little chuckle and adjusted his glasses. "It is a burger topped with our in-house made pimento cheese."
Scott said, "Sounds great... side of fries?"
"No, we don't have fries, but here are today's sides. Bruce pointed at a white dry-erase board with items to choose from.
Scott chose potato chips. The guys all laughed at Seth when he picked cucumber salad to go with his burger.
The men laughed. Fabian posed, for the crew showing off his fresh haircut, Jimmy couldn't tell a difference and wondered if it was time to have his glasses prescription updated. They pressed Seth until he held up his new paperback and then ribbed him good about how he would rather read an old book than go to the bar hunting ladies, if you could call the women they met that.
The plates came shortly after, and the men ate like kings. All but Tommy had ordered a Brewster Burger; he'd gone with a taco quesadilla and a side of black beans. They finished their food, and then Bruce returned.
"You all get a slice of our cheesecake." He pointed them to the wall by the register. There a second dry-erase white board hung on the all. In big playful letters it said "Wall of Happiness." Listed below were ten flavors of cheesecake offered for the day.
The men looked overwhelmed by the amount of choices.
Jimmy Joe chose coffee. Fabian picked peanut butter and jelly. Scott and Tommy went with oatmeal cream pie, and Seth went with strawberry.
It was the best damn dessert the men had ever had. They ate without hardly a word spoken. When the last crumbs had been eaten, they started taking out their wallets. Jimmy Joe made a no gesture. "You guys put them away. This one is on me. You guys busted ass on that shutdown. I'm proud of that hard work and to have you on my crew."
The guys did as told. Meals done, they grabbed toothpicks by the register while Jimmy Joe paid for lunch.
Before they left, Bruce said, "Thank you, and come on back when you get the chance."
"Yes, sir." Scott answered with a nod.
They went out into the crisp fall air, and the smokers lit up. Seth took a few steps away to be able to breathe. Fabian patted the bulge that his stomach had become.
"That might have been the best damn lunch I have ever had." Fabian exclaimed.
They all agreed. As they finished smoking, they crossed Main Street back to the company van.
Jimmy Joe backed out onto Main Street. They passed through the rest of town and soon left Marion in the rearview.
Before them was the climb into the mountains.