happened?
What did I do?
“Oh, my gawd!” Marjorie screeched as she raced out of the diner. “Naomi, are you okay?”
Was I? Good question. Body parts all intact? Check. No blood? Very good. Dry undies? Sweet.
The mental checklist allowed me to finally recover some of my wits. I blinked before turning to look at Marjorie. Astonishingly enough, my voice didn’t quiver as I replied, “I’m fine. The car didn’t hit me.” By some miracle—magic—I’d been spared.
The reminder of the burning cold on my hands had me glancing at them. They felt normal. Not even a tingle. But if I stared hard enough, I would swear I saw the thin outline of symbols on my palms. Wait, had someone carved them into me? Wouldn’t I remember that?
Before I could decide if those lines were real or not, Marjorie wrapped me in a hug that smelled of coconut lotion and deep fried food. My tummy rumbled. A normal reaction to stress for me. I craved a greasy cheeseburger and a fizzy pop something fierce all of a sudden.
“Thank goodness that car missed you,” Marjorie blubbered against me.
She cared about me. It was a good feeling. I hugged her back.
“I can’t believe it, either. Talk about close.” Too close.
It surprised me Marjorie didn’t ask me how it was possible I remained unscathed. Had she seen the car scrape by the invisible wall? Or had the driver turned at the last minute? My mind tried to insist this was the truth. However, the facts didn’t support it. Explain the scream of metal and the paint flaking off its side. I could see specks of it on the sidewalk.
While I processed the facts, Marjorie released me and slipped an arm around my waist as she prattled on. Apparently, the near-miss had rattled her. “I can’t believe some people. Speeding as if our downtown strip is a racing track. They should put speed bumps in.”
I kept to myself the opinion that I didn’t think a speed bump would have stopped the driver. I wasn’t sure of much, except for one thing. They’d aimed for me intentionally.
Marjorie walked us back to the diner, and the curious faces in the window. Knowing they stared, I dug in my heels.
I halted at the door to the diner. “Maybe I should just go home.”
“Don’t be silly. You can’t drive yet.”
I wanted to deny the claim, and yet a simple glimpse at my shaking hands showed her correct. I needed a chance to calm down and unwind.
Returning to be alone in my shop didn’t appeal, and perhaps being around people would protect me. Shit only happened when I was alone.
Marjorie nudged me with kindness to get me moving. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm and feed you something. Your nerves must be so shook.”
“I could use a coffee. And bacon.” Heaps of bacon. Which was better for me than the thickly iced red velvet cake under a dome.
Entering the diner, I immediately shrank, hating how everyone watched. I couldn’t even blame them. If I’d been the spectator in the window, I’d be curious, too.
Still, I examined with interest the checkered pattern on the floor as I shuffled for a spot where no one could actually look at me.
Please don’t talk to me.
Marjorie and Orville I could handle, but a stranger? Nope.
“Don’t worry, folks. Naomi is fine!” my friend announced.
Which I’m sure more than a few in the diner really didn’t care about. The morbid nature of people meant they would have preferred a different outcome with the car. Then they would have really had something to talk about.
As I decided on the farthest stool at the counter, Marjorie asked, “Has someone called the cops? That driver needs to be arrested. He could have killed her. Did anyone get a plate number?”
No one had. And I didn’t want to deal with Officer Murphy. He’d more than likely blame me for being in that car’s path.
“Come have a coffee with me,” I said, braving a few stares to turn and draw my friend’s attention.
“Of course. Right away.” She bustled behind the counter and filled up a cup for me and poured some cream until it turned tan. She knew how I liked it.
Before I took a sip, I put the hammer down on the police idea. “There is no point in filing a report. Nothing actually happened. They didn’t hit me. They barely mounted the sidewalk. And nothing was damaged. What are the police going to do?”
“You could have been killed.”
“Yup. But I wasn’t.