Page 136 of Whistle

The waitress made a note. “Super Slam, chocolate shake, coffee, toast. How’s your mom take her coffee?”

“She likes Nespresso.”

The waitress gave Charlie a blank stare. “She want milk or cream? The sugar’s on the table.”

“Just whatever way it comes. You don’t have to worry. We have money.” Charlie dug some bills out of his pocket and dropped them onto the table, flashing a reassuring smile.

The waitress did not return it. “You might want to hit the bathroom yourself. Wash up.”

He looked at his grimy hands, making him wonder what the rest of him looked like. “When my mom comes back.”

The moment the waitress walked away, Charlie guzzled down both glasses of water. When the waitress returned with the coffee and dropped a couple of creamers onto the table, she eyed the empty water glass across from him but didn’t mention it.

“Your Super Slam is coming up.”

She brought it to the table two minutes later, along with the chocolate milkshake. “I’ll hold the toast and coffee till your mother gets back.”

Charlie pounced on the meal, shoveling pancakes and eggs and hash browns and sausages into his mouth like it was the last meal he’d ever have. It was, he concluded, thebestmeal he’d eaten in his entire life. He sucked down the milkshake so quickly he got a brain freeze, and had to wait a moment for it to pass before he continued.

When he had finished everything, he felt gloriously full and ready to continue on his journey.

While he was wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he noticed the waitress talking to the man behind the cash register. He had a feeling they were talking about him, because they kept glancing in his direction while trying to act like they werenotlooking in his direction. Charlie knew they were probably starting to wonder just how bad his mother’s constipation might be, and whether they should call an ambulance for her.

And then he thought, no, that wasn’t what was going on. If theywere worried about his mom, the waitress could have gone into the ladies’ room and asked if she was okay, and then they’d know that there was no mom.

The man nodded to the waitress and picked up the phone next to the register.

The waitress came over to his table, and for the first time was smiling sweetly. “How was everything?” she asked.

“It was really good,” Charlie said. “Please give my compliments to the chef.”

“I’ll be sure to do that. Shall I finally bring your mom’s toast and coffee now?”

“Uh, you know, I don’t think she’s even going to want it.”

The waitress nodded, glanced back at the man on the register, who gave her a nod. “Well, why don’t you take your time, let your food settle, and I’ll come back in a minute in case there’s anything else you want.”

“Okay,” Charlie said.

He might only be a kid, but he had a feeling something was going on. And that feeling was confirmed when he looked out the window and saw a police car turning into the parking lot.

He didn’t know exactly how much his meal was going to cost, so he put everything he had on the table and slid out of the booth, grabbing his backpack as he did so.

The waitress, taking an order at another table, spotted him and called out anxiously, “Can I get you something?”

“I’m going to the bathroom!” he said, and as it turned out he could have benefited from the visit, but was afraid if he took the time he wouldn’t be able to get away before the police came into the restaurant.

There had to be a back way out.

He ran past the door that saidmen’sand pushed open one that saidstaff only. That took him into the kitchen, where two women and a man were busily preparing meals.

“Hey, kid!” the man shouted. “Can’t come back here!”

Charlie ran. He spotted another door and aimed for it, hoping it would lead outside. He turned the knob and pushed and he was out back of the restaurant, and there was his bike, right where he’d left it.

He hopped on and took off as fast as he could.

Even a Super Slam lasted for only so long.

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