Last night’s dinner with Jim and his wife had gone well. It was a welcomed treat to the old man, who had been surviving off the offerings of the local diner and what he could produce on the old Coleman stove. Not that there was anything wrong with those options, but the meal at Jim’s offered more than just good food. The old man felt at home with them. When he sat down to the large spread of food not so unlike the typical southern spread he was accustomed too, Tom felt like he belonged, like it was a dinner with old friends that one might do every week or so. The after-dinner sip of bourbon and more of Jim’s bird hunting stories were more than a perfect dessert for the occasion.
Before the old man left, he and Jim had agreed to meet at the diner this morning for breakfast, one the old man owed him after yesterday’s run-in with the Hungarians Tom was so pleased to have gotten.
It felt good to sleep in. As much as the old man hated to miss a single sunrise on the prairie and the chance at another brace of ducks, the extra rest was exactly what he needed. Jake, sprawled out on his side of the bed, and some of the old man’s side as well, didn’t seem to mind the later wake-up time either.
Tom turned his attention to the motel room’s t.v. weatherman to see what the day would hold. A northwest wind and highs in the low 50’s told him that today would be another great day afield. He hoped Jim would have time to go for another walk. Satisfied with the good fortune of an optimistic forecast, he flipped off the tv and made his way out the door, Jake perked his head up at first but went back to snoring shortly after the door was closed.
The diner across the road was no busier than normal. Tom recognized most of the patrons all seemingly sitting exactly where they had been the mornings before. Not unlike any other small-town diner across the U.S., this place was more than a spot to get a hot meal. It was a gathering place for the locals. Friends sipped coffee and ate over-fried eggs together weekly, if not daily, sitting in the same seats, saying hello to the same people, and tipping the same waitress, day after day. It was not lost on Tom how the simplicity of this way of life could offer so much satisfaction, not at all. In fact, he admired, even envied it. Tom knew that the people back home would have scoffed at this tradition, calling it mundane and boring, complaining that their coffee wasn’t some special “frappa-” this or “vente-” that, or that the diner didn’t offer any eclectic muffin or a vegan meal for the meat-intolerant hippie. Just the thought of it made Tom smile. He was falling in love with this way of living every new day.
The old man didn’t see Jim when he walked in so he found an open booth and sat down. A moment later the waitress approached him. “What can I get for you, doll?” she said as she readied her pen and order pad. She was a semi-attractive woman for her age. Her burgundy uniform fit her shape well and her choice of shoes told Tom that she was no amateur when it came to long hours on her feet. Her hairstyle was about a decade past its prime but given her age and the locale, it worked. Her skin was fair and the red lipstick she wore showed signs of wear, probably from sipping on her own cup of coffee.
“I’ll just have a coffee for now. I’m waiting on someone.” Tom watched her as she walked away and then noticed that he was staring. His eyes looked around to see if anyone else had noticed his gaze. She returned with a cup and left again to wait on another table. Tom took a sip and watched out the window at cars passing by. He took another sip and began to imagine what his life would have been like had he moved up here 30 years ago. He could recall the countless conversations he had with his wife on the subject, more like debates. She was right, as much as he hated to admit it, the money was good and it would have been difficult to move the girls so far away from their grandparents and friends. But, still, he tried to imagine.
Jim walked up, yanking the old man back to reality. “Been waiting long?”
“No, not long. Good morning. How are you?”
“I’ll have a cup, Dianne.” Jim said to the waitress as she passed by. The same waitress that had brought Tom his cup of coffee. He made a mental note of her name in his mind. Jim took his seat.
“Doing great. Slept like a baby. Got up early and checked on the cows. Ben is out putting up the last bales of hay into the barn. I’m doing great.” Jim said with a cheerful satisfaction.
Tom nodded an approving nod and glanced down at his menu. He didn’t really need to see it, he had eaten here enough by now to know that he wanted his eggs over-easy, toast with butter on the side and that despite his exhaustive search, grits are not on the menu. He mainly looked at the menu so that he could keep his eyes off of Dianne, the waitress, who was walking back and forth by there booth serving other customers.
“That’s great, Jim. I didn’t know you had cows, too.” Tom said, setting his menu down for now.
“Oh yea, we keep a few now. We used to have a lot more but I’m getting too old for that calving mess. Never understood why those heifers wait for the biggest blizzard of the year to start dropping. But we still keep a few to butcher every year and if the market is good we might sell some, too.”
Tom started to say something when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Dianne. “Are you guys ready to order? Jim, you want the usual? Who’s your friend?” She began to scribble on her pad what Tom guessed was Jim’s usual.
“This is Tom, uh, I’m sorry Tom, I’m not sure of your last name. Yes, hun, the usual will be fine. My good friend Tom here will be paying.” Jim chuckled at that last part.
“Shipes,” Tom said looking at Jim, then up at Dianne, “Tom Shipes. Dianne, is it? It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Oh, a southerner, are you up here for the pheasant hunting? We get a lot of you southern guys up here around this time of year. I do like your accents. Had any luck?” Diane smiled at Tom in a way that he couldn’t tell if she was just being nice or that maybe she had somehow caught him staring at her earlier.
“Yes, we- uh- my dog and I are up here for the birds and ducks, too, when I don’t sleep in,” Tom said still trying to read her.
“Well, you met up with the right man. Jim and his family have some of the best hunting land around.” Diane looked over at Jim while still wearing the same pleasant smile. Tom thought that it must just be her personality to smile like that and he shouldn’t be paranoid about her knowing his interest, however small it might be.
“Would you like to order something, Tom?” Diane was looking back at him now.
“Um, sure, I’ll have two eggs over-easy with some toast, butter on the side, please?” Tom said glancing down at the menu but not reading it. She finished scratching on her pad and left the two men to their coffee.
“So, some of the best land around?” Tom lifted his eyebrows over at Jim.
“Some people might say that. I don’t know, maybe we do. Or maybe its because we’ve got so much of it. Either way, you haven’t seen anything yet. What are your plans for the rest of the day? This is the first free day I’ve had since spring planting and I was really hoping to see your bird dog do some more work.”
Tom smiled, “Jim, my calendar is wide open.”
The Fall Experience 