Truck Stop Tears

            She left with every car that passed the truck stop. There weren’t many; few people came this far west anymore. When they did, it was like Anna could feel them. She wanted to be them so badly that she slipped on their skin for a few minutes. She watched through the thick glass windows as another version of herself put the gas pump back and wiped her hands on her jeans. She climbed into driver’s seat, laughing at something the man in the back seat had said, and turned the key in the ignition. She felt the soft purr of the engine beneath her and threw the car in reverse. Alternate Anna cast a glance back to the short brown building, her eyes flickering over the dimly-lit windows. Real Anna met her gaze and broke a little as she watched her unreachable twin drive away.

            She sprayed the window with cleaner and wiped it with a stained rag. The smell of the chemicals clung to her nostrils and made Anna cough. She turned and looked around. Her father’s establishment didn’t know what it wanted to be. Half the building was made up of booths and a counter, squeezed together like a miniature version of a diner. The other half was a convenience store, the dinginess almost hanging from the walls. The two were separated by some invisible boundary, the point at which her father decided he couldn’t make up his mind.

            He passed her, muttering under his breath, as she crossed the boundary into the diner half. An older couple sat in a booth in the corner. They looked up at Anna in her cheap, bright pink uniform and their frowns deepened. The man leaned into his folded hands, his greasy hair crawling down the back of his neck. The woman peered at her with red-rimmed eyes, her maroon lipstick smudged at the edge of her mouth. Her lips parted as though she was about to say something, so Anna raised one polite forefinger. She smiled and nodded. Then she turned and headed into the kitchen.

            “Molly?” she yelled, although she knew where her sister would be. The lanky blonde, dressed in an identical pink uniform, was bent over the counter talking to the cook. The fifteen-year-old smiled and let out a low laugh. “Molly,” Anna said again.

            “Hmmm?” she said, tilting her head in Anna’s direction.

            “It’s your turn, Molly,” Anna said, readjusting the tacky cotton gathered around her shoulders.

            “Cute?” Molly said, winking.

            “Sure,” Anna said, moving out of the way as Molly hurried past her. She waved at the cook and said, “How’s it going?”

            He shrugged. “You know,” he said.

            “Yeah,” Anna said. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. The cook forced a smile and turned back to the stove. Knowing there weren’t any orders for him to fill, Anna left the kitchen. Molly brushed past her again.

            “Thanks a lot,” she said, intentionally hitting Anna with her shoulder.

            “What?” Anna said, smiling. “They’re cute.”

            Molly rolled her eyes and went to deliver the order. Anna heard a crash come from the other side of the building and ran towards it. When she crossed the boundary, it took her a moment to adjust to the sight in front of her. Her father was sprawled out on the floor, packets of trail mix and sunflower seeds scattered around him.

            “Dad?” she said, hurrying forward. A woman clutching a fake Louis Vuitton was standing nearby with an expression of overproduced horror on her face.

            “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, crawling onto his hands and knees. Anna put her hands at her father’s elbow as he stood up. He jerked away. “Stop it. I’m fine.”

            “Okay,” Anna said, “uh, what happened?” She tried to reach out to him again.

            “Seriously, stop it,” he said. “I don’t need any help.”

            Anna glanced from the woman, who quickly shook her head, to the display that now lay on its side. Her gaze returned to her father’s face.

            “I just leaned on the display and it tipped over, okay?”

            “Okay,” Anna said, and folded her arms over her chest.

            Her father stared at her for a moment. “Well?” he said.

            “Well, what?” she said.

            “Well, aren’t you going to clean it up?”

            Anna opened her mouth and then closed it. She summoned all the wisdom of her sixteen years. “Of course,” she said, and bent to the ground.

            “Here, ma’am, I’ll help you out over here if you’re ready,” her father said to the woman still clutching her purse. She nodded meekly and held out a bottle of Smart Water. Anna’s father grabbed it and placed his hand on the woman’s back when she got near him. A shiver ran down Anna’s spine and she righted the display. She tried not to glance up as her father returned the woman’s change and briefly ran a finger along her wrist, but she couldn’t help it. Anna started to feel nauseated.

            “Why are you moving so slowly?” her father said, coming up behind her when the woman left. “We can’t let our customers see this mess.”
            Anna glanced in the direction of the old couple in the booth and looked back down. She nodded and gathered the scattered food faster. Her father watched in silence as she organized the bags and brushed the specks of dirt and hair off the ones that had been on the bottom of the pile. She could feel the back of her neck start to burn.

Her father nodded in apparent satisfaction and went to stand behind counter again. Anna brushed her hands on the skirt of her dress and quickly walked back across the boundary. The old woman was chewing and eyeing her suspiciously. Anna smiled brightly at her and said, “Is there anything I can get you two?” The old man shook his head and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. Anna’s smile stayed glued onto her face as she made a beeline for the kitchen.

            Molly was back at the counter, leaning against her elbows and listening to the cook tell a story about . . . something.

            “Molly,” Anna said. “What are you doing? You’ve got customers.”

            “Please,” Molly said, “I’ve got them under control.”

            The cook cleared his throat. “So like I was sayin’, we were chasin’ that pig all over the yard and Matt finally had it cornered when that godforsaken creature got a board in the fence loose and—“

            “What the hell is everyone doing in here?” Anna and Molly’s father said as he threw open the kitchen door. “Do I pay y’all to stand around and shoot the shit?”

            Molly straightened up, her face going white. “No, dad, but it’s pretty slow so I just thought . . .”

            “You thought what? That you could sit around and waste my time?”

            “No, of course not—“

            “Then why are you doing it?” Their father took a few steps into the kitchen and Molly took a few steps back. “Good God, no matter what we do with you, you never cease to be completely useless.”

            Anna stepped into the space her father had just occupied and slipped out the kitchen door. She made eye contact with the cook as she left. He was standing by the flat top and nervously tapping a fork against his open palm.

            “Can we get the check please?” the old woman said when Anna reappeared. Anna raised her forefinger again and continued walking until she was across the boundary. She headed straight for the space behind the register and felt around in the drawers underneath the outdated machine. Anna’s fingers wrapped around the familiar metal container. She pulled it out. Her father’s flask. She needed to be quick.

            Anna exited the convenience store and unscrewed the flask’s lid. She dumped the entire contents of it onto the pavement in front of her, startled by how the smell of the whiskey both nauseated and comforted her. She screwed the lid on and hurried back inside. Anna locked eyes with her sister, who was walking out of the kitchen. Molly lifted one shoulder and smiled as she handed the old couple their check. The man pulled out his wallet, retrieved a single bill, and slapped it down on the table. He and the old woman got up and made for the exit, the woman pulling her cardigan close to her round body. The door swung open and they were gone.

            Anna walked to the window and watched them leave. They made their way to a predictably rusty Honda, opening their doors at the same time and slumping inside. The man put the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot. As the bumper of the vehicle disappeared from sight, Alternate Anna turned and waved from the back seat. Real Anna tilted her head forward until her nose was resting against the cool surface of the glass. She wanted to leave, even if it meant leaving with them.

~

            Night fell and still the girls were there. Molly was pacing back and forth in the diner, twisting her hands and sighing every few steps. Anna was sitting in a booth, filling sugar containers and studying the cracked table in front of her. Their father was slumped over against the broom closet in the back of the convenience store, snoring lightly.  

            The silence stretched out between them until Molly finally said, “You know, if we wanted, we could just leave right now.”

            “Where would we go?” Anna said. “We don’t have any money.”

            “It doesn’t matter. We could take it from the register and have enough to live on for weeks.”
            “Molly,” Anna said, looking up from the sugar containers. “What are you talking about? We can’t take money from the register. That would be stealing. Dad would report us in a heartbeat and we’d get caught.”

            “Why?” Molly said, massaging her bruised wrist. “Don’t you think we’ve earned it?”

            Anna sighed. “Since when has what we’ve earned made a difference?”

            Molly rolled her eyes and Anna saw they were starting to fill with tears. She stood up and walked to her sister, putting her arms around her bony shoulders. “Please don’t cry,” she said. “We just have to dig in a little longer and things will change. We can leave then.”

            “’Then’ isn’t soon enough,” Molly said, a tear dropping down her cheek. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and wiped her face with her hands.

            “Please, it’s okay, we’ll be able to—“

            “Girls?” their father’s sleepy voice came from the back of the building.

            They both froze. “Yeah?” Anna said.

            “Kim’s going to be here soon. Get out front.”

            The girls looked at each other and Molly wiped her face on the sleeve of her dress. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” she said.

            “We’ve never wanted to do this,” Anna said. “It doesn’t matter. Where else do we have to go?” She walked to the diner’s entrance and let herself out. Sure enough, Kim was standing on the curb, smoking. Her blonde hair was thrown up into a messy bun and her eyeliner had fallen down her face. Her reddened skin was pulled tight across her cheeks, but was baggy under her eyes, and harsh lines met on her forehead and at her mouth.

            “I’ve been waiting for five minutes, what have you two been doing?” Kim said.

            Molly stared at her shoes. “Refilling sugar containers,” Anna said.

            Kim rolled her eyes and stuck her cigarette between her lips. She grabbed Anna by the wrist and pulled her off the curb. Anna looked back at Molly. Molly’s eyes had grown round in fear, as they always did. Anna set her mouth in a firm line and nodded. If she would be okay, then Molly would be okay. But then Anna watched as their father walked out of the convenience store. He hung an arm around Molly’s shoulders and seemed to lean on her. Anna thought she saw Molly’s knees shake.

            Kim dragged Anna towards the line of dark trucks. Their customers were waiting.

~

            The next morning, Anna quietly wiped the tables down before the store opened. Molly was washing dishes in the kitchen and their father was sleeping off his customary hangover behind the register. Anger pulsed through Anna, as it always did. She imagined herself grabbing a butter knife and running it along her father’s throat, patiently repeating the task until she smelled blood. It would take a while, but then that might be okay.

            But no, she couldn’t do anything like that. She would walk out, and when she did no one would be able to stop her. She pressed her hand into the plastic in front of her and scrubbed. A crash came from the kitchen. Anna stopped what she was doing and went to check on her sister.

            The cook was crouched on the ground, carefully picking up pieces of ceramic and placing them in his hand. Molly stood over him, completely still. Anna came up behind her and put a hand on her back. Molly looked at her, narrowing her eyes and then yawning. “I don’t know,” she said, in response to Anna’s silent question.

            Molly absently ran her finger along the counter. “Just a little bit longer,” Anna said. Molly nodded and took a deep breath. She pulled at the skirt of her dress until it was neat on her tiny frame. Then she crouched on the ground beside the cook and started picking up pieces herself.

            “Hello?” someone called from the diner. Anna went out to investigate.

            It was a man, maybe in his late-twenties. He had shoulder-length black hair and held himself with a sense of power that had never been crushed. The expression on his face was kind enough, though. Anna had gotten good at sensing the intentions of greedy men.

            “Hi! Sorry!” she said.

            “Is the restaurant open?” he said, indicating the deserted building around them.

            “Yes, yes it is,” she said. “Please, take a seat.”

            He nodded and made the for the nearest booth. Anna went to pour him a glass of water and added a lemon wedge as an afterthought. She immediately regretted it as she watched the small, slimy rind sink down into the water, but it was too late. She brought the glass to his table. He was studying the menu.

            “What’s good here?” he said.

            “Nothing,” she said.

            He laughed and looked up at her. “What? Really?”

            She shrugged. “I think the cook is about ready to give up on life,” she said. “That’s what it tastes like anyways.”

            “Aren’t you supposed to be selling me on this place?”

            She smiled. “We’re the only truck stop for a hundred miles. There, I sold it.”

            He laughed again. “You’re a smart girl,” he said.

            She shrugged. “Relative to here, which means next to nothing,” she said. He frowned. “I’ll get you a burger. It will definitely be overcooked, but I promise it won’t make you sick.”

            He stared at her. “What a wonderful promise,” he said. Anna walked to the kitchen and delivered his order. She came back and made a point of slowly wiping down the counter. “I’m Jack,” he said from across the room.

            “Okay,” she said, continuing her task. Then she looked over her shoulder and said, “Anna.”

            “What are you doing a hundred miles from civilization, Anna?” he said.

            She shrugged again. “Doing what everybody does. I’m working.”

            He blinked. “That wasn’t really the question.”

            “I know,” she said, and smiled. Jack studied her face, but she knew he wouldn’t find anything.

            Five minutes passed of her working silently while he stared down at his blank phone and toyed with the straw container. Then Molly burst through the kitchen door, burger in hand, and looked from where her sister stood cleaning to the man sitting in the booth and back again. She strode up to his table and slapped the plate down. “Here you are!” she said. “Enjoy!” Anna heard the chirp in her voice and warmed. At least this was something else.

            “I’ve been assured that I won’t, but thank you,” the man said, and picked up the burger.

            She thought Molly would return to her cave with the cook, but Anna was surprised when her sister’s voice came from her left. “What are you doing?” Molly said.

            Anna glanced at Molly and tried on an expression of false innocence. “Cleaning,” she said.

            Molly shook her head and walked back toward the kitchen. “You always waste the cute ones,” she said, making sure Anna could hear her. Anna rolled her eyes, finished the end of the counter, and returned the cleaning supplies to their hiding place.

            “I know what I’m doing here,” Anna said, breaking the silence, “but I want to know what the hell you’re passing through the middle of nowhere for. Nobody should have to be here.”

            She looked over and saw Jack’s eyes light up at this invitation to connect. “I’m a grad student,” he said. “I’m on my way back to school after doing some field work.” He paused. “Sometimes the best places can be a little hard to get to.”

            Anna pulled at the corner of her uniform. “I know that’s true,” she said. “What are you working on?”

            “The effect of the use of genetically-modified seed on biodiversity in the agricultural world,” he said. He set his burger down in anticipation of the fascinating conversation they were about to have.

            “Sounds important,” she said.

            “Everyone thinks what they do is important,” he said, “and they’re usually right. Just in a different way than they think.”

            Anna laughed and Jack frowned. He didn’t understand that every morning she put on that sickly, pink cotton uniform and tied her hair into a bun she thought about the dead-ended pain of her life. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just think we’ve had very different lives.”

            He took a bite and drummed his right hand on the table. “I don’t doubt that’s true,” he said. “But you’ll end up surprising yourself.”

            Anna shrugged and didn’t know what to do with her hands. She was filled with the sudden urge to tell him everything. To tell this stranger, whose last name she didn’t know, what it felt like when a man older than your father pulled you into the cab of his truck. About the way her wrists ached when she woke up in the morning, about how her hair always smelled like Kim’s cigarettes and about the burn mark on her back. She wanted to express how painful it was to watch her little sister devolve into a spiritless being, how worried she was that Molly would be broken. About how empty her life had become when her mother died, how much light had gone out. More than anything, Anna wanted to talk about the trap she was always fighting, about the life she dreamed for herself and how she didn’t have a clue how to get there. She opened her mouth to say all these things. Then Anna heard her father’s guttural voice boom from across the boundary, and they shrunk on her tongue. Jack was staring at her now. “I don’t know,” she said.

            “That’s okay,” he said, “it’s just something to think about.” He shoved a few fries in his mouth. “This burger is truly average.”

            She gave him a weak smile, her heart pumping in the pit of her stomach. “Told you so,” she said. She turned and walked to the kitchen door, letting herself straight through past Molly and the cook to the tiny hallway that led to the freezer. She leaned against the wall, hearing Molly grumble as she finished up the table and brought Jack the check.

            “He’s gone,” Molly said eventually, walking back to where her sister stood. “What’re you doing back here?”

            Anna studied the freckles covering Molly’s face and imagined them pulled tight across her cheeks, but baggy under her eyes. “This isn’t forever,” she said, running her hand through Molly’s stringy hair. “This isn’t even for much longer. You know that, right?”

            Molly was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “I know,” she said. “I trust you.”

            Anna leaned her head forward and tapped it lightly against Molly’s. “Our moment will come, and we will go. And we will never have to see this shithole again.” They stood there for a moment. Then Anna could hear Molly’s breath get ragged so she pulled away. She passed her sister and walked back out into the diner.

            Jack had left a generous tip, despite the fact that she had abandoned him halfway through his meal. Anna picked it up and quickly tucked half of it into her uniform. They were supposed to give all the money to their father, but Anna had started relying on his pessimistic view of humanity. What did another tiny tip matter if it was consistent with the rest? Besides, he would never see these customers again.

            Anna would put these bills with the rest; she would collect them until the stack was big enough to get her and Molly past the state line for good. It was just a matter of time.

            Anna looked out the window and caught a glimpse of her other self. Alternate Anna stood and leaned against the hood of a car, patiently waiting for it to be filled with gas. She jingled her keys in her hands and stared at the toes of her boots. She was nothing and she was everything. Real Anna placed her hand on the glass in front of her and could almost feel it. The steady pulse of this other girl thrummed through her head and kept her awake.

            She watched as Alternate Anna removed the pump, closed the flap covering her gas tank, and got back into her car. The car made its way to the edge of the parking lot and drove off. Real Anna could have sworn she heard herself laughing.