mop her forehead. “No one can change their fate. If those people were meant to drown on the Titanic I guess they went to their holy reward, sure ‘nough. And I don’t reckon I ever heard of a Lost meetin’ Hitler, otherwise I ‘spect they woulda stabbed him through his dark heart. You can be sure I will if we meet sometime. Right through the heart with my best bread knife. That’ll teach the little bugger. Or maybe the apple corin’ one…it’s duller.” She sniffs and picking up stride, fairly sails by me, her head held high and visions of murder on her mind. Once again, I hurry to catch up.
“Okay then. We can’t change history; you’ve been through a lot more of it than me so I’ll let you be the judge of that one. Fine. But tell me what you remember from all the places you’ve been? Is there a pattern?”
“What you mean, like knowing where we’re endin’ up next? Don’t you think if I’da figured that out by now I’da warned ya?” She has gone from irritated to incredulous.
“But what do you remember from all the places, Prue?” I press.
Sighing, she stops walking once again and looks me right in the eye. “If you’re gonna do this to an old lady, Sonnet, at least buy her a Coca Cola and get her outta the sun.” She nods her head towards a diner on our right. It’s the “Up All Night Diner” and the only place that stays open the same hours – and longer – than the coffee shop. They are in direct competition with us; they even have a sign advertising the City’s Best Coffee – the cheekiness! But I will buy Prue ten Coca Colas if she will only sit down and talk to me.
Prue insists on parking the food cart right in front of the picture window so we can keep an eye on it in case a mad, serial cart thief is on the loose and in the neighborhood, and then of course, we have to make sure we bully the waitress to get the table that is directly in front of the same window. I order her the largest Coca Cola with a slice of lemon, just the way Prue likes it, and we settle into the red, vinyl booth.
“Now why you wantin’ to know all this history that don’t concern you?” Prue begins the conversation, once she drunk half her soda through the straw and burped. “You got sumpin’ you need to be telling me?”
My mind races frantically. I don’t know whether to tell her of Rose and I don’t know if I’m hesitating because I don’t want her to know or I just don’t want one more person disbelieving me. Finally, after I have torn a napkin to shreds with my fingers, I take the plunge. “I think Rose is here. I saw her. And I don’t know whether it’s by accident or design. I’m afraid this is our only chance to meet up with her if she’s really Lost, and if it is, I’m afraid to travel on until we find her.” There. I’ve said it.
Prue looks as though she has swallowed her lemon slice whole. Her eyes are narrowed and her forehead has more creases than a pleated skirt. I am even more surprised to see her large, brown hands trembling.
“You saw Rose? She’s here?” I have never heard Prue whisper in my whole life, yet she is whispering now.
I nod. “I’m positive it was her, Prue. Do you believe me?”
Prue doesn’t speak for a minute. She twirls the straw around in her glass absentmindedly. When she speaks again, it is no longer in a hushed whisper, but in the regular voice I know: firm and not to be trifled with.
“I don’t see how it could be, Sonnet. That doesn’t make a lick of sense. If she had the same powers we do, she woulda never been left behind in the first place. Lots of girls have blonde hair and blue eyes. It’s just wishful thinkin.’ That’s all.” She stands and motions for me to do the same. “Come along home, girly. I gotta go shopping today and I gotta get my cart home first.”
Not as vague as my father’s, but a dismissal just the same. I pay for her drink, since she marches right past the waitress with the cash register without even pausing, and goes back outside.
“Do you want me to go back and get Dad?”