*Editor’s Note: This assignment was for English 220: Introduction to Creative Writing.

Pro Tem: Temporary

Al’s diner had stood on the same corner for 30 years. Through rain, wind, shine, and political bias, it had been a rock for the people of the community, boasting the best burgers and the thickest milkshakes in town. Its neon sign stood outside a lighthouse beacon for those on the road at any time of night. Open 24 hours, Al’s was where people went when they had nowhere else to go. And in November, the pink neon winked at the world, slowly disappearing beneath the first snow of winter. 

There were three strangers sitting in Al’s diner. They did not know each other. They did not care about each other. And while there were three strangers sitting within 30 feet of each other, they were all completely alone. 

Edwin was exhausted. Completely worn out, drop dead, bone-weary, run over with a bus… drained. He stood behind the bar, wiping the counter. He was wiping in circles, getting lost and dazed in the pattern of it all. Dip the rag, wring it out, wipe in circles until the rag goes dry. Dip then wring then wipe, dip then wring then wipe, dip then wring then wipe, dip then wring then wipe in circles until the sun comes out. 

His professor’s advice echoed in his mind. 

Go over the terms, drill them into your mind, get a good night’s sleep before the test, and you’ll do fine. 

Fat chance. The LSAT test was tomorrow at 8 am and his shift ended at 7. And so Edwin was forced to memorize the terms as he wiped, hoping he was drilling the correct definitions into his mind. 

A is for Acquittal. A jury verdict that a criminal defendant is not guilty, or the finding of a judge that the evidence is insufficient to support a conviction.

The overnight shift usually sucked, but the good news was he got to keep all the tips. If people tipped. The whole thing was honestly quite ironic. After his mother had overdosed and his dad had gone to jail for giving her the drugs, Edwin and his sister Tanisha had lived on their own, in the legal custody of their aunt. Tanisha had worked at the worst diner in Chicago for 8 years, begging for tips, doing odd jobs, and making sketchy deals in order to feed them both. She had once told him, “This is for you, Edwin, so that you’ll won’t have to work in the dumps. Stay in school, get a scholarship, and have the life I wish I coulda.” Funny that now, 10 years later, he was working in a diner, using his scrappy paycheck for school and what food he could get while watching his life disappear from behind a linoleum bar. A bar that looked remarkably similar to the one his sister had wasted her life behind.

Dip then wring then wipe, dip then wring then wipe. 

Suddenly, there was a loud coughing fit from the man in the corner booth. Edwin looked up, surprised the man was still there. If Edwin remembered correctly, he had come in around 8 p.m. and ordered a single cup of coffee. Careening his neck to peek around the booth seat, he saw the coffee was still there, untouched. Edwin stared at the man, who had barely moved in the five hours he had been there. The man had sat slumped forward, staring at the same spot on the table, not moving at all. His arms were crossed over a tan, burlap-texture army bomber jacket. His dark jeans matched the blue Yankees hat he wore, pulled low over his wide-open eyes. He looked dead. 

As Edwin was looking, the man again broke out into a serious coughing fit. The man’s entire body was shaking as the deep cough seemed to split his throat. Eugh, what a terrible sound. Dark, powerful and so screechy it sounded as if the man’s vocal cords had been wrapped in sandpaper, and put through a paper shredder. The man covered his mouth with his hands as he coughed, but that did nothing to stifle the sound of it. Even the young woman sitting at the bar turned her head to stare at the man. As the last of his coughing echoed throughout the diner, the man looked up. He stared Edwin down with mean eyes that gave Edwin chills. 

“Excuse me, sir, are you alright?” Edwin called from behind the bar. “Sir…. can I get you anything?”

The man shook his head once, then resumed his original position, staring at the table. The young woman at the counter shook her head as she turned around, muttering something about those “damn crazy old men.” Then she turned to Edwin and ordered a fourth strawberry milkshake. 

Edwin set down his rag, forced a smile, and walked to the kitchen to make the milkshake. The rhythm his footsteps made as he walked to the back was haunting, reminding him of the pattern he was stuck in. Reminding him of everything he had to lose if the test didn’t go well. 

Col-lege. L-SAT. Col-lege. L-SAT. Col-lege. L-SAT.

The man in the booth watched the young man behind the counter disappear into the back to make the stupid girl’s milkshake. And when he was sure that no one was paying him any attention, he slowly pulled out what had been hidden in his hands. It had once been his favorite bandana, but now it was ruined by the blood he had just coughed up. The man abruptly felt a lump in his throat as the conversation he had with his doctor that afternoon rang through his head. 

“I’m sorry, Charlie, but it’s too late. If we had detected cancer sooner, maybe we would have been able to do something, but it’s past the point of no return” Dr. Welton had said.

“But Doc, there has to be something I can do. I’m only 45, that’s too young to have cancer.” He had said back.

“I’m telling you Charlie there is nothing-”

“DON’T SAY THERE ISN’T ANYTHING I CAN’T DO! I FOUGHT TWO TOURS IN AFGHANISTAN, I LOST MY LEG IN THE SAME BATTLE THAT KILLED MY BEST FRIEND, I’VE SEEN THE PITS OF HELL. I WILL NOT BE TAKEN DOWN BY SOME…. STUPID… MOLECULES!” He remembered how his voice had cracked as he said, “I…. I just can’t. I can’t doc. It can’t be real…. Not after all I’ve been through. What will I tell my kids? They need me…” Charlie had asked him.

And now the truth was inevitable. He was going to die in less than a year. He was never going to be able to grow old, never going to be able to see Amy and Sam graduate high school, or college, or be able to go to their weddings, spend Christmas as a grandfather…. It was all just gone. Gone for good, like his right leg from the knee down. Gone for good like James was.

No. He couldn’t think like that. He’d only recently worked past that part of his life. It had left scars on his mind. The kind you couldn’t see, but the kind that broke you down. Like the kind he would have from this. Except, this time, he wasn’t going to be able to see them heal. They would be the death of him like that bullet had been for James.

Charlie’s phone buzzed again in his pocket, for the third time this hour. He knew he should pick up. He should tell Nancy where he was and why… but he just couldn’t. 

He looked down at the bandana in his hand. It was blue. Nancy had made it right before his first tour, back when she was still pregnant with their first child, Amy. She’d worked so hard, spending countless hours embroidering the names of their family onto the edges. He looked at them now, still as neat as they had been 15 years ago, even if the thread color had faded a little. He ran his finger over the names on the side as he read them all. There was his mom, his dad, his little sister, his little brother, and, of course, the dog. There were his friends from high school too, intertwined with the names of the men who inspired him. JFK, Earnest Hemmingway, Douglas MacArthur, and more. When Nancy had embroidered her own name, she had left blank spaces next to it, so that when he came back, he could watch as she sewed the names of the family they built together. Then when he got back, they had sat for hours, as the thread was pulled through the fabric over and over. He had watched her, and the magic she created as Amy was added to the bandana. Two years later, Sam had come. But that had been before it all. Before he and James had left again before they were like how they were now. Back when they had actually loved each other. 

What a sick reminder it was. Everything good this cloth had once reminded him of, was now the very reason he couldn’t bear to accept the truth. For all the times he knew his life was on the line, he had fought so that his kids would know how strong he was. Now,  years after fighting those battles, he was finally engaged in a war he couldn’t win. A war he couldn’t even fight. A goddamn war he hadn’t even known had been going on. He was being sacrificed, for no reason. A lab rat in a control group, for an experiment that had been done thousands of times before. What bullshit it all was.  

And so Charlie folded his arms once again, hiding his bandana in the folds of the bomber jacket. 

How ironic, Charlie thought,

This bomber jacket once saved my life, and now it is the vessel that encompasses me the day I learn of my death. How ironic indeed. Charlie sighed as he lowered his eyes and shook his head, ignoring Nancy’s call yet again.

The young girl at the counter glared at the man in the booth. His arms were folded and he didn’t move, despite the buzzing coming from his pocket. Wow. What a bullshit man. It was probably his wife calling, and he was probably too drunk to see straight. He probably hit her, and it was probably best that he wasn’t home. Although in her experience, whenever men came home early in the morning, that’s when they were at their most violent. At least, that’s how her father had been. 

“Oh no officer, I have noooo idea how in the world my poor beloved wife just happened to get pushed down the stairs! What a horrific, completely unprecedented accident that had no ulterior motives at all. It’s such a shame the whore- oops I mean the angel- is dead. What. A. Tragic. Accident.” 

“Yeah right pops. Fuck you,” she had thought. “Karma’s a bitch and it’s going to hit you like a train.” And that’s exactly what had happened the day she had testified against her father in court. The prosecution had offered her a nice deal to go live with her cousin if she had testified against him, and at the time, she had thought “Yeah why not! That bitch sucked and my cousin’s pretty cool.” 

So her bastard father had gone to jail and she had been shipped to her cousin, a man who loved her only when she did as she was told. And what was she told to do? Lie on her back and spread her legs. It was either that or face the same rage her father had once embodied. 

Yeah.. that wasn’t going to work for her. So she had stolen some of the money he made from the… spices… he sold and got the fuck out of there. Unfortunately, no one seemed to care about her, didn’t believe her sob story and so she decided to do what all women did when they were in her position. She became an entrepreneur. A business owner… of sorts. 

Well, it wasn’t a bad deal. It wasn’t fun work, but the men usually paid well, and all she had to do was do exactly as she was told. She’d been doing it for about 6 months now, but the fuckup men who were her regular clients had started to go awol. 

“I’m so sorry Heaven, but I just can’t do this to my wife. I’m going to try and work things out.” One of the men had said to her. 

Or, even better, was when they began to develop a conscience. 

“I can’t be doing this anymore. You’re absolutely lovely but you’re so young. You’ve got such a future ahead of you.” Richard had said.

“Well baby… how about we talk about the future of us?” She’d responded

“My Heaven, I don’t even know your real name or your age.”

“The only name that you need to know is Heaven, cuz that’s where I’ll take ya.”

“Tsk, tsk… baby, you can turn your life around. Let me help you with that, please. It’s the last favor you’ll ever get from me.” 

What bullshit that was. Favor? Yeah, fucking right. He just wanted to play hero. Pretend he had a cape and morals. 

Ironic, really, that as much as men sucked, they were the only thing that cared enough to give her anything to live by. 

All men were sons of bitches, worms of the earth that played with people and promises, shattering dreams and digging the graves of everyone who wasn’t like them. It was like hide and seek, but when you’re found you can either follow the master and become their slave or die. And in most cases, you’d do both. It was quite unfortunate that the world required them to run properly. All men did were break things. As far as she was concerned, it was a miracle the world wasn’t broken. Oh wait… it was. And who was in charge of it? Oh yeah… men. 

“I’m fine. It’s fine. Calm down. You’re fine.” She muttered to herself. 

The guy behind the counter – Edwin, his name tag read- stopped wiping the counter to look at her. Embarrassed, she ducked her head and pulled her milkshake closer, willing his eyes to look away. 

But they didn’t. She could feel him staring at her, but… not in a weird way. He wasn’t judging her, he was… curious, maybe? 

“What the fuck do you want?” She spat at him.

“Oh, I… I’m sorry, ma’am… Nothing.” Edwin stammered.

Al’s diner fell quiet once again. The only sound came from Edwin’s rag as it swept across the linoleum counter.

…. E is for En Banc. French, meaning “on the bench.” All judges of an appellate court sitting together to hear a case, as opposed to the routine disposition by panels of three judges…

… I’m sorry, Charlie, but it’s too late. If we had detected cancer sooner, maybe we would have been able to do something…

…  baby, you can turn your life around. Let me help you with that, please. It’s the last favor you’ll ever get from me… 

Suddenly, the bell above the door dinged.

Everyone jumped, ripped from the rabbit hole of their thoughts as their attention turned to the new arrival.

A girl stood in the doorway, buried beneath an oversized sweatshirt, shaking off snow. She brushed off her arms then quickly looked up at Edwin. She ducked her head as she walked toward the counter as if trying to dodge the stares of her fellow customers. 

“Order for Jenna.” She mumbled under her breath

“Yes ma’am, right away,” Edwin replied. He turned and walked into the back to go pick up her order. 

Heaven sat at the bar, completely enthralled with the girl. The more she looked, the more interesting she became. The sweatshirt read “SAN FRANCISCO HIGH SCHOOL” in big block letters. It was covered in fading sharpie signatures with messages like “We’ll miss you Jenna,” and “good luck.” Jenna was wearing fuzzy pink Ugg boots that were stained with mud, and so wet there was no doubt in Heaven’s mind that Jenna’s socks must have been soaked through. Her arms were folded across her chest, and as she waited she half sat on a chair. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she kept sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve. Her hair was messy with static electricity, with her baby hairs pointing out in all directions. She refused to make eye contact with anyone, even Heaven, who was staring right at her. 

When Edwin came out with a bag of food and a milkshake in a to-go cup she jumped up. In a single second, she threw a 20 at him, muttered “keep the change,” and turned toward the door. As she walked toward the door, she sped up and Heaven watched as in slow-motion, Jenna stepped off of the entry carpet and onto the floors, which were slick with slush and melting ice. She slipped, the bag of food flying into the wall, her body thudding to the ground. Her milkshake flew out of her hand and splatted onto the floor next to her, coating her in a thick chocolate glove. 

She lay there for a moment, stunned, and then abruptly burst into the tears she’d no doubt been holding back. 

Al’s diner fell quiet once again. The only sound came from Jenna’s cries, the sound of her wailing ricocheting around the room. 

Heaven stared at the girl. For some reason, Jenna had compelled Heaven from the moment she’d walked into the diner, and now, watching her cry on the floor, Heaven could not tear her eyes away from the girl. 

Charlie watched the scene from the corner booth. Part of him knew he should check to see if the girl was okay but all he could think about was his kids, and how their tears would one day haunt the people who hear them, just like Jenna’s tears were haunting him now. 

Edwin looked down at the dry rag in his hands. The circles he had made on the linoleum counter were starting to dry. And he watched them fade away. For so long he had been stuck in this routine, doing everything he could, all of the time. And man, he was so exhausted. Completely worn out, drop dead, bone-weary, run over with a bus… drained. He stood behind the bar, looking out at the people around him. The girl at the bar was staring at the one lying in the milkshake, and the man in the corner was staring at them both. How did he get here? How? All he ever wanted to do was be better than the ones who came before him, and yet he was stuck in the same, damn, cycle. Just because you chase a dream, doesn’t mean you will catch it. Race, money, gender, status… Edwin had no power. He couldn’t change anything. And even if he did someday become a lawyer, would he ever really make a difference in someone’s life?

Heaven stood up and slowly walked over to the girl. She picked up a napkin dispenser from the closest table and held them out. Heaven reached out her hand and took the napkins, sitting up slowly. Jenna wiped her eyes and started dabbing at her sweatshirt. Heaven put her hand on Jenna’s back and comforted her as she slowly wiped herself off. Heaven helped Jenna off the ground and into the nearest chair.

 Heaven pulled a chair across the faded black and white checkered floor to sit on and hesitantly reached out, resting her hand on Jenna’s leg. Jenna sat up quickly and Heaven pulled her hand back, but not before Jenna had thrown her arms around her, sobbing into Heaven’s shoulder. 

Heaven froze and after a few seconds, gradually let her arms down, wrapping them around the sobbing girl.

Edwin watched it all, unsure of what to do. Then he set down his rag, turned around, and walked into the kitchen. 

Charlie watched the boy at the counter leave and shook his head. If only he could leave like the boy behind the counter. But even as the thought crossed his mind, the door to the kitchen swung open, and the boy emerged with a glass of water and some tissues. He set them down by the crying girl and then sat in the seat opposite the girls. He was muttering something to them both. What insanity. Why did he think he could be there for them? He didn’t know anything. He was too young.  Charlie knew more than he did. 

Heaven pulled away from the hug and handed Jenna the glass of water Edwin had brought out. The girl accepted it wordlessly and slurped some of it, spilling more than she had drank onto her clothing. She grabbed some of the napkins and smeared them across the sweatshirt, but gave up quickly.”

“Ugh, it’s already ruined.” Jenna whimpered. 

“Are you, okay?” Heaven asked.

“I’m fine,” Jenna whispered.

“Are you, sure?” Edwin asked.

“No.”

“What happened?” Heaven asked. Jenna was silent for a few moments. She stared straight at the door. She took a shaky breath and then answered slowly. 

“He dumped me. My boyfriend. Brad. He dumped me. And like, I-, I just don’t even know why ya know? I’m from San Francisco and that’s where he is, but my family moved and we’ve been here for, like, four months, and it’s been so hard, but I’ve been trying ya know? But he was, like, the only good thing in my life right now.” A fresh round of tears streamed down Jenna’s face. 

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. This is just a blip, you’re going to be fine.” Edwin said to her. 

“Yeah…. That’s what people always say. I just… I can’t really believe it’s happening. Like, I mean, I’m not an idiot, I knew something was changing…. But I didn’t think it was like…. This…” Jenna slowly spoke, choosing her words carefully, “I’m, I think… Am I just a bad person?”

“What? You’re not a bad person just because you’re going through a breakup.” Heaven said. 

“But I yelled at you guys, and I’m all alone which means- Oh god everyone hates me!” Jenna dissolved into another round of hysterical tears. 

Edwin and Heaven looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Heaven thought for a moment and then spoke. 

“If you’re a bad person when you’re like this, then I am the worst person on the planet,” Heaven said. 

Edwin turned his head and stared at her. 

Jenna looked up, her eyes finding Heaven’s eyes, which were dark and stormy. 

“Good people get treated well. And even though it may not seem like it right now, what you’re going through isn’t that bad of a situation. I’ve been through much worse, and am a much worse person,” Heaven said, her eyes on the ground. 

“No, you’re not. We’ve all been through rough things-” Jenna said.

“No! It’s not, just stop. You don’t understand,” Heaven said. She took a deep breath. She looked up, right at Jenna, and spoke deliberately, doing everything she could to get them to understand. 

“I was raised by a lovely mother who was completely incompetent at anything and everything; and an abusive, alcoholic, drug-addicted father who found pleasure in breaking things- breaking people. He would yell and scream at them before he… did worse than yelling. And then my father went away after he killed my mother, and my cousin did the same thing my father did. But regardless, violence was the only thing I knew growing up.” Heaven looked down, shakily breathing, her heart was stammering, her mind racing. 

“And now it’s who I am. I have violent sex with men so they don’t take it out on their wives, their families, their children. I purposely put myself through pain and what’s worse than that. So like I said. If you’re a bad person for struggling with heartbreak, then by default, I’m the worst person on the planet.”

“What’s your name?” Jenna asked. 

“My name?” Heaven replied. 

“Yes, your name.”

“Heaven… my name is heaven.”

“No… what’s your real name?”

“That- that is my real name.”

“No, like the name you used before you were an… escort.”

Heaven was silent and raised her eyebrow at the word “escort” before taking a deep breath and looking Jenna dead in the eyes. 

“Claire,” she said. “My name is Claire.”

“Well Claire, those aren’t the same things at all,” Jenna said. 

“That’s because you’re missing the point of what she’s saying.” A dark voice said. The three youths sitting in the chairs turned around to face the man. 

They stared at him. He was there in a sand-colored bomber jacket with a blue bandana clutched tightly in his hand, his sad eyes staring right back. 

“There is no second chance… who we are is not who we were, or where we came from. But..” He sighed deeply. 

“Look kids, I was raised right. I had it easy compared to you.” 

He looked directly at Heaven- no Claire, and said, “I was raised by two loving parents.”

He then looked to Jenna and said, “We lived in the same house our entire lives and I married my high school sweetheart.”

Glancing at Edwin he said, “I was… not… well, I’m white, and so I had a lot of advantages, ya know? My parents paid for my education, I went to a private school… and it was an easier world when I was a child.” 

“And then, one day, that all changed ya, know? When 9/11 happened, all that happiness and naivety, it was just gone, in the blink of an eye. The world was complicated and mean. And being the young, dumb-ass kid I was, I wanted to fight it. So my friend- my best friend- and I, his name was James, and we thought we could. We thought we could get out there, and the enemy, ya know al-Qaeda, would just, just bow down to us -like everyone had our whole lives. We’d never had to work for anything in our lives, so why would we now? And so we left our homes, our families, our wives, and we suited up, trained up, and joined the army.

And, you know, when we shipped out to Afghanistan, it was great. We did well, we fought hard, but we made some dumb mistakes. We were idiots and acted stupidly, but it just so happened that we succeeded. We came home with arrogance and cockiness. We were on a high. But my wife, she brought me back to earth. Taught me how to be a father and a man- a family man, a good man. At the time, I thought she was trying to bring me down. But looking back, she was doing the opposite, ya know? Building me up, making me stronger. Showing me real love. And we had our daughter, Amy, and I calmed down. I was happy. 

Until the day they asked me back. They wanted me to fight again, this time in a different, more violent part of Afghanistan. I guess a part of me, a dark part of me, still wanted to prove myself. So we went out, James and I- he’d been asked back too- and we left again. This time, I didn’t care what happened, but I wasn’t going to be an idiot again. I had my family to protect, and ya know, James, he too was like that. His twins, Maddie and Jake, needed him, and my family needed me. We made an agreement. No stupid shit- think of our families. 

But being gone for so long, sometimes you slip up. And one day, our day off, we got stupid. Snuck in some liquor, made some dumb bets, messed with our gear for fun, we were up all hours of the night, but the next morning, we got the news. Immediate emergency, we had to leave camp. And I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find my jacket. It was just gone. We’d been messing around with our stuff and in the chaos of things, I guess I lost it. I couldn’t find it and James, well, he said… he said…” Charlie paused and then stopped. 

It had been so long since he had told this story. Everyone in his life knew this story, knew what had happened, and that had been good enough. But here he was, in a diner at nearly 2 am, telling his secrets to three of the most unusual and unique people he’d ever met.

What is going on, he thought, I mean here I am, talking and talking, do they even care? But even as the thought crossed his mind, he looked up to find all three of them completely enthralled. Claire’s eyes had gone wide, she was leaning on her chair, leaning into the story. Edwin’s hands were resting on the table and he leaned into Charlie’s words, eyes full of childlike wonder and curiosity, his duty to the counter long forgotten. And Jenna- man she looked like Amy. It was hard to look at her because she looked so much like Amy. But Jenna’s cheeks were dry for the first time all night, her mind cleared of the worries that plagued her. And as Charlie looked at them, it occurred to him that he wouldn’t ever be able to tell his kids these stories he had. He had so much life and wisdom to give and it would waste away with him when he died. He wouldn’t ever be able to cheer Amy up after a breakup or help Sam apply to college. He wouldn’t ever be able to say, “back in my day.” and he wouldn’t see his kids make their own mistakes. 

Someone should hear his story. Someone should hear his wisdom. So he would continue, for them. They needed to know. 

He cleared his throat and continued.

“Well, James, he gave me his jacket. Said I could take it until I found my own. James was always the one losing things, he was joking that maybe I would take care of it better than he would, but anyway, as we were leaving, our convoy. It-, it got attacked. They came for the tanks and they took out people- soldiers, and good soldiers at that- left and right, and James, ya know, he didn’t have his jacket. His sand color bomber jacket. And we got out to fight, the trucks weren’t safe anymore, but in all the chaos we got separated. 

People were everywhere, and bullets took up the remaining space and so we were hunkered down as the shouting got louder and louder and then I looked over and there was James. Pale as he was, he got sunburned so easily and without the jacket, the camo, he stuck out, and I could see him across the clearing- we’d been ambushed in a canyon-like place, ya know the rocks make it easier to hide- and I just looked, and saw him, scared. I’d never seen him scared before. I’d known this man for nearly 20 years- we’d been friends since childhood- I’d never seen him really, truly afraid. 

And so I called out to him, I don’t know why, maybe to let him know I was there, he wasn’t alone, and he turned. But as he did, he, he… just froze. And as he fell forward I saw why. So I jumped up and screamed. My Sargent nearly killed me when I gave away our position, but I didn’t care, I just got up and ran, it was a miracle I wasn’t shot and ran up to him. I put my hand on his back, tried to stop the bleeding, but the bastard had shot him well. I turned him over with my hand on the wound on his back and all he did was look at me. He maybe blinked once- he didn’t even have the strength to breathe, let alone talk out loud- but he did talk.” Charlie stopped again, feeling the lump in his throat. Starting at the ground, he continued on.

“He talked to me. With his eyes.”

“What did he say?” Jenna asked softly.

“He didn’t say…anything. He asked. He asked about his family, and his home… and me. Asked if we were gonna be alright if we were safe.” 

Charlie’s voice broke, “And I told him what he wanted to hear. I nodded and spoke as the guns blazed and the violence sang and the world screamed as he died.” 

No one spoke. 

Not for a long time.

“Sir, that is an incredible story,” Edwin said. “Terrible and painful, but really incredible.” 

His words seemed to snap Chalire out the moment. 

“Son, don’t call me sir. It’s Charlie,” Charlie said. 

“Okay then, Charlie. I just want you to know that I think you were incredibly brave.” Edwin replied. 

“Brave? Son, I think the word you’re looking for is stupid. Not only was it my fault I lost my jacket, but I disobeyed my Sergeant, and essentially was the direct cause of my best friends death and stepped on a landmine trying to bring his body back which only led to me losing my leg and his family not being able to have a body to bury. That’s all pretty stupid.” Charlie said. 

“I think it’s brave.”

“Why do you think that’s brave, Claire?” Charlie turned to stare at the whore.

“Because, Charlie, you risked your life for your best friend, gave him what he needed when he needed it most, and risked your life again for the peace of his family. Just because you lost a jacket, doesn’t mean you lost your valor.” She said. 

Charlie paused for a second then chucked. 

“You know, you sound an awful lot like my therapist,” he said. “But that’s my point. We all view our own trauma in a different light. We all fight our own battles, we all lose our minds and we all have darkness inside of us we can’t get rid of. But that struggle doesn’t make us who we are.” Charlie turned to look at each of the three of them.

“If I’ve learned anything in my life, I learned that you can not give up your dreams. You can’t give up your heart, your home, what makes you, you. When you do give up, it is the ultimate surrender. You are choosing to let go of your life, your mind, and your body.”

“I’ll be the first to admit it. It’s a hard-won fight. Believe me… after today… look, I just, I get it. But the minute you forget what really matters, that’s the minute you lose any chance of renewal.”

Charlie’s words rang through the diner. They filled each space up with perspective and hope.

“I guess I really am going to be okay,” Jenna said. “If you both can get through all that, I can get through this.”

“You can,” Claire said. “There is a whole world out there and just because you haven’t found the right people yet does not mean they’re not out there. You are not alone.” There are good people out there, and there are good men.

Claire looked straight at Charlie and remembered what she’d thought when his phone had been going off earlier. All she’d thought about him was bad, poor, convinced he was the scum of the earth. But he was a good man. He was a strong man, and he had fought for the ringing in his pocket. Who was she to judge a person on appearances? All people ever did was judge her, and it wasn’t fair. It certainly wasn’t fair to do it back. Maybe she could change. 

“I’m not alone….” Jenna said. The words felt foreign and strange on her tongue. For so long that had been her only mindset, the only reality she was clinging to. But tonight was different. These three strangers had found her, a wreck on the floor, as the world had slipped out of her control. How selfish was she to think that hers were the only issues out there? She knew other people struggled and yet all she’d done since the moment she’d stepped through the door was make all of them pay attention to her. But the people sitting next to her were clearly more interesting. They had more to give the world than she did.

But still, Charlie was right. She was lucky. She had a home, and a family, which was more than Claire had. And she liked Claire. They looked to be about the same age, and despite all of their differences, she felt like Claire understood her. And she empathized with Claire. While she was never going to fully understand, she could try. And maybe she would. She would really try for the first time. 

“I’m not alone.” She said again. 

Charlie sat there. Content, but sad. A stray thought lingered in his mind. Why were these people getting more attention from him than his children were? They needed him. They’d always have, and it was only right that they knew they’d soon have to let him go. And so Charlie rose, reading himself to leave. 

“Charlie, wait,” Edwin said as Charlie headed to the door. “Why did you tell us this?”

Charlie paused for a moment before he responded. “Because, Edwin, I’m dying. I have stage 4 lung cancer and I have a family. My children need to know.” Charlie replied. 

“Oh my goodness. I, I am so sorry.” Edwin said.

“I appreciate that, son. But it’s okay. I will be fine. But here we are, and now you know about this, and my family doesn’t so I must go and tell them. I’ve wasted enough time sulking tonight.” As Charlie headed out, he stopped with his hand on the door. 

“You know, you all remind me of them. So full of promise and light. I know that life is hard Edwin, but please promise me you’ll never give up.” Charlie stared Edwin down. The eyes Edwin had thought were mean, now looked different. They were eyes full of regret, sadness, and pain. But they were eyes that kept a man truthful. Edwin had a feeling Charlie would know if he lied.

“I’ll try.” 

Charlie nodded once. And then he left, the bell above the door fading into silence. 

And with that Charlie was gone. 

Charlie’s words hit Edwin like a train. He was right. The more he thought about it, the more he figured it out. Life was hard, and Edwin had it harder than most. But he was better than giving up. He was chasing law school, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He knew he could make a difference. He’d made one tonight, with the girls and the man. If not for him, the diner wouldn’t be open, they’d all just have turned around, and their paths never would’ve crossed. Edwin realized, sitting there with the girls, that he had more chances ahead of him than a lot of people, like his sister. And just like his sister, he had a job to do. Serving coffee and thick milkshakes and the best burgers in town to people from 5 p.m, to 7 a.m. four days a week. 

Edwin stood up and walked to the counter, grabbing his rag to wipe down Charlie’s table. He could hear the girls starting a conversation behind him. He was happy that they were happy. 

When Edwin looked down at the table though, he froze. Staring him down was the biggest cash tip he’d ever seen along with a note that read,

“Priority claim: An unsecured claim that is entitled to be paid ahead of other unsecured claims that are not entitled to priority status. Priority refers to the order in which these unsecured claims are to be paid.

Yeah kid, I once wanted to be a lawyer too. I heard you muttering these terms to yourself and I thought, ‘man I gotta help him out.’ 

You’ll be a fine lawyer, as long as you always remember why you started down that path. It was too much for me, and I gave up. But you can be better than I was, I know you can. And remember, all pain and suffering is, 

Pro Tem: Temporary

• Charlie”

There were three strangers sitting in Al’s diner, watching a fourth one leave. They did not know each other, but they knew each other’s stories. They cared about each other. And while there were three strangers sitting within 30 feet of each other, they weren’t completely alone for the first time in a long time. 

Al’s diner had stood on the same corner for 30 years. Many people had passed through its door, each with a story to tell. The neon sign outside was a lighthouse beacon telling those wandering on the street, “Come in. You are welcome.”. The sign was right. And in November, the pink neon winked at the world, slowly disappearing beneath the first snow of winter.