prompt: Set your story in a roadside diner.
available at Reedsy
At first glance, there was nothing to mark either the crossroads or the diner that sat next to it as unusual. A closer look would reveal that the roads seemed to shimmer and disappear in the distance in a way that strained the eye and led to headaches. The diner itself, though, was completely normal, though its customers were not.
“Hey hon, welcome to your first shift. It’ll be busy.” Mabel, the blue-eyed woman of indeterminate age, with hair dyed a garish red against her lined face of pale pink smiled, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.
Priya piled her straight black hair into a bun; olive skin highlighted with tasteful touches of makeup. Her hazel eyes turned to the older woman with a question. “Mabel, it’s Tuesday graveyard, in the middle of nowhere. How does that make it busy?”
“Easy, hon. We have regulars every Tuesday night, and the roads are most active then as well.” She began filling salt and pepper shakers. “How’d you end up here, anyway?”
“Bad relationship,” she answered. “Since you’re already on the shakers, I’ll fill all the ketchup and mustard.”
“Abuse?”
“No, not me anyway, but she was a bully, and I can’t stand bullies.”
“I hear that, hon,”
Travis stepped out of the kitchen, lighting a cigarette as he entered the dining room. “Six baskets of fries ready to drop,” he said. “Let me know as soon as the corollaxian gamers land.” He took a deep drag, his massive chest expanding, dark brown eyes focused on nothing. The white uniform made his mahogany skin seem even darker and richer, if that was possible.
“Trav, honey, how we doing for shrimp?” Mabel asked.
“We’re good,” he said, “unless we get more kylari than usual. That happens, flog the catfish.”
“How much do we have?”
“Enough for thirty portions.”
“Priya!” Mabel called out. “Check the board for shrimp and update it every order. If we run low, start pushing catfish for the ones that want cooked seafood.” She marked the dry-erase board with “shrimp: 30” and dropped the pen in the tray at the bottom.
“Okay, Mabel.” Priya hummed as she worked. “Why do we have such big bottles of mustard on the tables?” she asked, opening the third large container in her rounds to fill everything.
“You’ll see, P,” Travis said with a chuckle. “Just don’t stare.”
“Easy there, darlin’, she’ll do fine, won’t you hon?”
“Thanks, Mabel.”
A sheriff’s cruiser pulled up outside, and a lanky, red-headed woman walked in holding a massive travel mug. “Hey, Mabel!”
“Hey, Grace! You hear for the usual, hon?”
“No time to stay for the show tonight; just some coffee to keep me awake. Fill it all the way. And this is the new girl? I’m Grace,” she said, extending her hand.
“Priya,” Priya said, shaking Grace’s hand.
Mabel filled the mug with the freshly brewed coffee and handed it back. “Have a good night and stay safe.”
“You too,” she said, leaving as quickly as she’d come.
“She didn’t….”
“Drinks are free for cops, firemen, paramedics…pretty much any emergency types,” Mabel said, “except for milk or the stuff in the cooler.”
Priya looked at the cooler near the wait station. It contained energy drinks, orange juice, apple juice, and grape soda. She was ready to settle into a long, slow night when a bright, orange glow flashed from the crossroads. “What was that?”
“Trav, start dropping fries!” Mabel handed Priya six coffee cups and the decaf pot. “Table seven, room for cream in all of them, and whatever you do, do not give them anything other than decaf.”
Confused, Priya did as she was told, Mabel following behind with napkins and utensils. No sooner had they set the table, than the door opened, and six figures entered. They looked nearly identical; short, with overly large, black eyes, tight-fitting suits of blue, with three long fingers on each of their four grey hands.
Mabel poked her in the ribs. “Best get used to it quick, girl.”
“Right, sorry.” Priya hurried back to the wait station to put the pot back on the warmer.
As she left, she heard them ordering, their voices were high-pitched, like a child, with a slight ringing to them. “Four orders of fries,” they were all saying over the top of each other.
“It’s coming right up, sweeties,” Mabel replied.
“Order up!” Travis’ voice boomed from the kitchen, and the six strange beings all squirmed excitedly. Priya noticed that they removed tablets and strange dice from their bags, handling them only with their lower hands.
“Priya, hon, help me get this order out to these hungry boys…or girls…or whatever they are.”
Priya nodded and took three of the plates, while Mabel took the others. As she set the massive piles of fries in front of each of them, they took turns smothering them with mustard. She noticed that they used their upper hands to handle the food and drinks, while the lower continued with their dice and tablets. Even though they made no sounds other than hums of appreciation while eating, it was clear that they were communicating with each other, as the game continued.
“They’ll be there for a few hours,” Mabel said. “Just keep their decaf coffee topped up, and they’re happy. They’re deathly allergic to caffeine, you hear?”
The crossroads flashed again, green this time. “Ugh. These guys are likely to take most of the shrimp, but don’t offer them catfish. It’s no good raw and they can’t eat it cooked. If they ask for regular coffee or soda, check their ID.”
“Oh, are these the kylari Travis mentioned?”
“No, some unexpected griptar,” Mabel said. “Closest as I can say it anyway.”
“What am I looking for on their ID?”
“If they’re allowed to have caffeine, you’ll see a blue circle around their picture. If the circle is missing, or any other color, don’t give them caffeine under any circumstance. It’s decaf or water. Don’t want the patrol to have any reason to close us down.”
Five creatures walked, or rather, slithered in. Their bodies were small, ending in a mass of tentacles on which they moved, with smaller tentacles around their mouthparts. In contrast to the first group, they were noisy, chattering among themselves in some incomprehensible gurgling language.
Priya showed them to a booth and placed menus in front of them. “Can I get you started with something to drink?”
One of the creatures pushed a button on a device it wore at the top of one of its tentacles. “I’m sorry, the translator was off. What was that?”
“Can I get you started with something to drink?”
“Four colas, and I’ll have water. I have to pilot,” the creature said.
Priya was about to get the drinks when she remembered. “Can I see your IDs?”
The four that would be drinking cola raised a tentacle, and a holographic image of them showed. Three were haloed with a blue circle, the fourth had a green circle. “Um, it looks like I can’t give you any caffeine,” she said to the odd one out.
The creature’s bulbous black eyes hid themselves behind a nictitating membrane, and the whole table began to count together. “Four…three…two…one…zero!” The circle turned blue.
“Happy…birthday?”
“The translator does not understand this word. But this one is now at the age of majority,” the ordering creature said.
“Congratulations,” Priya said, before returning to the wait station to get their drinks.
Mabel sidled up to her. “I saw that,” she said. “Get ready for them to act like college kids at the youngest one’s twenty-first birthday. Could get rowdy.”
“At least they have a designated driver…pilot?”
The crossroads flashed blue. “Here comes the kylari,” Mabel said. “I’ll grab them; I think the griptar are ready to order.”
The table was already getting loud, and Priya put on her best waitress smile and approached. “Are you all ready to order?”
After some arguing, and the designated pilot’s consultation with a strange device, the creature ordered four and a half pounds of raw shrimp, whole. Priya kept her smile on and returned to the order window to pass it on.
“One minute,” Travis said. “Mark us down as twelve orders of shrimp left.”
“Got it,” she said. She picked up the pot of decaf and headed to the table with the gamers. They had each gotten around halfway through their pile of mustard-slathered fries, their odd dice rattling as they rolled them. Being as efficient as she could, she refilled all their mugs, leaving room for cream, and returned the pot just as Travis put out a large bowl full of shrimp, still in the shell, with heads, tails, and legs still on.
“This is what they want?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Plates?”
“No, they’ll share a bowl, but bring them a couple empty soup bowls.”
“Ah, for the shells,” she said.
Travis just laughed.
She set the shrimp and the empty bowls down. “Anything else I can get you?” The four drinking caffeine were clearly inebriated, despite having only drunk less than a quarter of their colas.
“No thank you,” the sober one said. “We have everything we need.”
They filled the empty bowls with mustard, dipped the shrimp in the mustard and crunched them up whole. She went back to the order window before her stomach could turn any further than it already had.
Travis nodded toward the table where Mabel was seating the kylari; four creatures that resembled a cross between a frog and an ape. Their skin was brightly multi-colored, their large eyes with rectangular pupils set high on their wide heads. One of them gesticulated wildly with webbed fingers, six to a hand; but at least they each only had two hands. “There goes the rest of the shrimp,” he said, “unless they’re interested in fresh-water fish.”
Mabel nodded at them and came to the order window, one of the kylari following closely behind her. “Four double-orders of the fried catfish, on a bed of greens, with a whole radish on the side.”
“How?” Travis asked in a whisper.
“I know, we’re supposed to keep it secret, but they’re here all the time so, we can share this once,” she said with a wink. She laughed as she filled a pitcher with warm water, into which she stirred a generous amount of salt, handing it to the kylari waiting impatiently for it.
“You’re good,” Travis said with a grin. He turned back into the kitchen as the crossroads flashed a bright yellow.
“Shit. Priya, hon, push that button under the till.”
“Trouble?” Travis asked, his back still turned.
“Wolves.”
A loud crash sounded somewhere in the field behind the diner, and Mabel ran out the back door. When Priya started after her she shouted, “Stay in there and wait for Grace.”
The inhabitants of the diner were all looking at Priya, probably wondering what the crash had been. Rather than let her nervousness show, she busied herself with topping the gamers’ coffees and pretended everything was normal.
Mabel returned a moment later, helping one of the four-armed creatures hobble in. It wore only a rag around its waist. Its skin was pallid, crossed with scars, and a heavy collar circled its neck. One of its lower hands looked broken.
It made a noise, like the voice of the gamers, but it wasn’t in a language that Priya could understand. She ran to the table of gamers to ask if one of them could translate for them. They were already packing up their dice and tablets, their fries left unfinished. “We heard our cousin,” one of them said, as they rose to follow Priya.
When the other creatures got close enough for the translator to work, the noises became intelligible. “Help me, please,” it said. “I escaped the slavers, but they’re right behind me.” It grabbed at the collar around its neck. “They’re following this.”
“Can I try?” Travis asked.
The creature raised its head so he could get at the collar. Travis gripped it in his hands and pulled at it, his muscles straining, until the clasp snapped, opening. He placed the collar on the order window.
“Can you get this poor dear safe?” Mabel asked them.
“We will take our cousin home,” one said. “May we exit through this portal?”
“Sure, dear.”
“Oh, we haven’t paid,” it said.
“Don’t worry about it, on the house this time,” she said with a smile.
“Wait,” Travis said. He loaded a to-go box with fries and added a whole squeeze bottle of mustard. “He’s probably hungry.”
“You are very kind,” the creature said.
Grace ran into the kitchen, her hand resting on her pistol. “What’s happen…oh my god, do we need an ambulance?”
“No, we need to get him out of here before the wolves show up,” Mabel said.
“If you take off right away, they’ll follow you. Hide in your ship until I tell you it’s safe,” Grace said.
“If the patrol searches our ship, we’ll all be slaves.”
“Leave that to me,” Grace said.
A second bright yellow flash from the crossroads spurred the creatures into action. “Thank you again,” they said, hurrying out the back door.
Priya, Mabel, and Grace rushed into the dining room, trying to act nonchalant, while Travis finished up the catfish order. “These guys can’t handle sugar,” Mabel said, “but they can’t taste it either. If you don’t want to have to drag doped up wolves out the door, no sugar.”
The door opened and three tall creatures entered. They were vaguely human-shaped, though the proportions were all wrong. Dull grey fur peeked out of the edges of their armored uniforms and covered their snouts. Large canines and sharp claws marked them as predators.
As they entered, one of them studied a device in its hand, while the other two scanned the diner. One of them approached the table of celebrating griptar, now grown deathly silent. It leaned over and spoke softly, and they all showed their IDs again. It licked its snout with a purple tongue and returned to the other two.
“Would you prefer a table or a booth?” Priya asked with a smile, looking up at the largest of the three.
“Don’t threaten me, human, I’ll have you for a snack.”
“What threat?” she asked. “I just asked whether you’d like to sit at a table or a booth?”
“Where is the slave? And don’t bare your teeth at me.”
“Oh, you’re like a monkey,” she said. “I get it.”
“Where is the slave?”
“No slaves here, it’s illegal.” She smiled her sweetest close-mouthed smile. “Table or booth?”
“That,” it said, pointing at the collar on the order window.
Priya casually walked to the window and picked up the collar. “Is this thing yours?” she asked. “Someone dropped it off hours ago.”
“Where was it found?”
“In the middle of the intersection,” she said.
“Where did the creature wearing this go?”
Priya shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. Mexico, Arizona, Texas, Colorado…depends on which direction they went. How about this booth over here,” she said rather than asked, leading them to the corner furthest from the door and nearest Grace.
They talked among themselves, their translators off, before sitting down. “We lost it. We’ll just pick up a new one from the corollaxian ship,” one of them said, unaware the translator had been turned back on.
Grace approached and sat next to the largest of the creatures. “Howdy, officers. You’re a long way outside your jurisdiction.”
“Not true, human. All member planets and crossing spaces are under our domain.” It looked at its device. “The corollaxian ship behind this building; go check it out.”
Grace stood, laughing, her hand on her pistol. “Nope. Sit right back down. This ain’t a normal crossing place. You’re on Earth; human space, and we aren’t part of your little club. How about I treat you to a nice meal to make up for it.”
“No. We will have a beverage, then we must leave,” the large one said, looking at the broken collar. “We will apprehend the corollaxian ship after it leaves your space.”
“Well, officers, drinks are on me,” she said. “Could you get us something?” she asked Priya.
Priya headed to the wait station. She was about to grab coffee, then stopped. She looked at the cooler.
Priya set an open can of grape soda in front of all four of them at the table. Grace smiled at Priya, raised her can and said, “Cheers, to the keepers of the law.”
They drained their cans in great gulps, followed by loud belches. Within seconds, all three passed out.
“That was too easy,” Priya said.
“Get them to their ship. I’ll let the gamers know it’s safe to leave.”
Priya grabbed the largest one, surprised at how light it was. She lifted it easily and carried it out the door. Grace pointed to a black ship sitting close to the diner. By the time she and Mabel had the third out, the crossroads flashed orange again, the gamers gone back to their home.
The wolves were still breathing, so that was good. She looked at their armor closely and saw something that looked like it might be a camera. She sat the creature up and looked straight into the camera.
“I hope this is recording. You won’t get away with being a bully here. I won’t let you. Any slave that comes here will be protected.” She heard Grace approaching and let the creature drop. “What now?”
“They wake up when they wake up, then they go home. I’ll hang around until then.” She smirked. “How was your first night?”
“It was…different.” The crossroads flashed blue again, and a ship appeared above them, settling down in the field. “And I guess it’s not over.”
“Eh, quiet for a Tuesday,” Mabel said.