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stares of the people sitting on
random porches. After a few minutes the girls stopped waving as they cruised
down the street. No one was waving back.
    "There's
a stranger in town," Nolan drawled under his breath. "Hand me my
six-shooter, Maw."
    Vic
grunted and stared back at the vacant faces until they reached what passed for
the business district. There was a grocery store, a shoebox-sized hardware
store, a doctor's office, a beauty parlor, a barber shop, a gas station and
garage, and finally a glass-paned place with a sign that called it Jinx's
Diner.
    "Let's
stop here," Vic said.
    Nolan
glanced over his shoulder and winked at the girls. "I think we should hold
out for a McDonald's... in the next state."
    The
girls giggled as he turned off the main street and pulled up in front of the
diner.
    "But
maybe they'll have some sarsaparilla here," Nolan hammed as he turned off
the ignition. "You girls ever had any sarsaparilla?"
    "What
is it?" Andy asked.
    "Lizard
spit," Nolan said. "See, they keep these lizards in—“
    "No
it isn't," Vic broke in. "It's a soft drink made from the roots of a
tropical plant. They won't have any here, Andy. Nolan's just teasing you."
    "I
knew that," she said.
    Nolan
removed his cell phone and mouthed a silent curse.  “I thought there was
service everywhere.  Seriously, the commercial for this thing said so.”
    “Missing
those calls from Carrie?” Vic said, and Nolan smiled suddenly.
    “Best
excuse ever. No service.  Let’s go see about getting served.”
    The
interior of Jinx's Diner was red, white, and hot. A single fan in the center of
the ceiling circulated the grease-laden air and provided only a hint of a
breeze. The long Formica-topped counter seated twelve, and in front of the
glass windows sat four tables with mismatched chairs. The place was empty. The
only movement was that of the fan and a few flies buzzing over the tops of the
ketchup bottles placed every few feet along the counter.
    The four
shuffled in and approached the counter. Andy immediately tested one of the red
stools to see if it spun. It did. Before she could give it a second spin Vic
lifted her up and sat her down. "Don't spin, Christa, sit down."
    "Anybody
home?" Nolan called as he sat on the stool beside Andy.
    A head
immediately appeared in a doorway at the left end of the counter. "You
folks lost?"
    "Just
thirsty," Vic answered. "Are you open for business?"
    A long,
thin body followed the head out the door. He was sixties, with a bald, freckled
head, an eggplant-purple nose, and the skinniest arms Vic had ever seen. He
looked like one of Andy's crayoned stick men…with glasses.
    He took
his spectacles off and used the front of his white apron to wipe some of the
grease off the lenses. Then he replaced his glasses and leaned over the counter
to tweak Andy's nose. "What can I get for you?"
    "Got
any beer?" Nolan asked.
    The man
frowned. "Don't serve it before five."
    Nolan
glanced at his watch. "It's five now."
    "Not
on that clock." The man pointed to a yellowed clock on the wall behind the
cash register. "Says five to." He turned his attention back to Andy.
"How about a big glass of lemonade? Does that sound good?"
    Andy
looked at Vic, who nodded. "Make it three, please."
    Nolan
opened his mouth, but the old man ignored him and went about filling three
glasses with ice. "Don't get many visitors out here. Denke's a ways off
the beaten path, if you know what I mean."
    "Sure
is," Vic said.
    "Are
you Jinx?" Christa asked.
    "More
like Goober," Nolan muttered under his breath.
    The old
man turned and handed Christa her lemonade. "I'm Jinx all right, honey.
What's your name?"
    "Christa.
And this is Andy."
    Jinx's
face creased into a smiling frown. "Andy? What kind of name is that for a
pretty little girl?"
    Andy's grin
was shy. "My name's really Andrea."
    "I
shoulda guessed," the old man said as he retrieved the other drinks.
"And this must be your daddy," he said with a nod at Vic. "You
both look just like him. And