In contrast to the meandering Sawatassee River and the two-lane State Road Forty-one, the Interstate

In contrast to the meandering Sawatassee River and the two-lane State Road Forty-one, the Interstate was a wide slash across the outskirts of Davis Corners that carried fast cars and big trucks. At the single exit that metered traffic into and out of Davis Corners was a tall sign that simply said Eats, and at its base was Cole s Truck Stop. Buddy Cole felt the sign s message had to be simple enough for people to read and comprehend while going seventy miles per hour. He had wrestled between Eats and Gas since his truck stop offered both. Nate s Uncle Henry had suggested that he go with the latter, since it described both. It was early afternoon and Buddy was patrolling the truck stop, wearing his usual John Deere baseball cap and greasy work pants. A chrome chain securely anchored his wallet travel cosmetic bags to his belt. He went into the diner, sat down at the end of the counter, and waved to Sylvester, the cook, indicating that he needed a cup of coffee. Edna McElroy saw the gesture and told Sylvester she had it. The diner had a long counter and two rows of booths. One row of booths lined the windows and one hugged the adjacent wall. The counter was where the truckers sat, and the booths were where the locals sat. No one enforced the convention, but it worked out that way most of the time. The other waitresses were content to let Edna handle the counter, travel cosmetic bags because it saved them from having to deal with the coarse truckers. Edna liked it that way. She could handle the truckers, and they tipped better than the booth folks did. Here you go, boss-man. Edna passed the coffee to Buddy from the other side of the counter. She leaned over the counter to inspect the chain attached to Buddy s wallet. She could see Buddy looking down the front of her uniform as she did. I ve never figured out what you re guarding so carefully down there, your wallet or your pants. Beats me what you ve got in either that you re so proud of. The truckers at the counter all laughed. Want to see? Buddy said. Well, show me the wallet first. If there s nothing travel cosmetic bags in there, there s no point in going much further. Once again the men at the counter laughed. Edna turned her sarcasm on them next, knowing not to make her boss the butt of too much kidding. I see you boys all have your stuff chained down too. Edna strolled down the counter looking over at the wallet chains and letting the truckers catch a glimpse of the lace fringe on her bra. Good thing, too. Don t know if I could control myself otherwise. Edna clutched her breast with her hand as if fighting off a fainting spell. The gesture brought the sightseeing to an end. As a professional waitress, Edna knew that cheesecake was best served in small portions. Is Captain Jack in today one of the truckers asked Buddy. Captain Jack was the code name for the slot machine that Buddy kept in the trucker travel cosmetic bags s locker travel cosmetic bags room. The locker room was reserved for long haulers and had a shower and two cots, along with a small bank of six lockers. Along one wall were a toiletries vending machine, a condom machine, and Captain Jack. Gambling was illegal, but the state troopers who came into Buddy s place never went into the truckers locker room. On the off chance that they might, Buddy had put a sign over Captain Jack that said, For Entertainment Only. Not For Gambling. Buddy said this would protect him from any prosecution. Over the condom machine, someone had scrawled, Don t buy this gum, it tastes like rubber. Buddy saw the pass key for the locker room in its usual place: next to the cash register, hanging on the arm of a wooden statue of an old sea captain wearing yellow foul-weather gear. Looks like the captain is available. The trucker left Edna a seventy-five cent tip and started to head back to the locker room. Hey, lucky, Edna said. She tossed one of the quarters from her tip to the trucker. Play this one for me. I hear you got the touch. This usually worked for Edna. Most of the truckers travel cosmetic bags would cough up another fifty cents of their own money rather than come back and tell her they d lost. Buddy continued to sit at the end of the counter and looked over some paperwork. Sure seem to go through a lot of steaks. He looked at Sylvester, but Sylvester just kept working at the grill. travel cosmetic bags Sylvester, Buddy said, Why do we go through so many steaks? People like steak, Sylvester said. Town folks eat them for dinner, mostly, and truckers like to eat them with breakfast. Buddy looked around and grumbled. travel cosmetic bags Nobody eating steak now. It s lunch. Well, I m going to be keeping on eye on it from here on. Just looks like I go through a lot of steak. Sylvester turned around and said, They re not going through me, if that s what you mean. Actually, every night right before Sylvester would get off his shift, he liked to treat himself to a steak dinner. If Edna was on duty, he usually made her one too. One of the other waitresses, a sour crone named Pearl, had gotten jealous and told Buddy, but he hadn t been able to catch Sylvester at it yet. He hoped that this little travel cosmetic bags warning would stop it. Meanwhile, a black sedan pulled off the exit ramp and into Cole s parking travel cosmetic bags lot. In it was the Reverend Ralph Johnson, passing through Davis Corners to sign some contracts for his traveling ministry. Davis Corners was usually a good stop for his tent revival, and he was here to finalize travel cosmetic bags arrangements for this year s circuit. Cole s was a good meeting place for traveling salesmen and itinerant businessmen. He was getting out of his car when Maddie Flanagan came screeching into the spot next to his in her Bel-Air. He pulled himself back in and quickly travel cosmetic bags shut his door to avoid its being ripped off. Maddie stared at him with her trademark open look that seemed to ask if he had something to say, while at the same time suggesting it would be best if he didn t. Johnson just smiled at Maddie and observed her plastic Jesus on the dashboard. He got back out of the car and watched as Maddie labored to get herself out. Good-afternoon, ma am. Maddie shuffled travel cosmetic bags to the diner and grumbled as Johnson held the door for her. Maddie sat at the counter, fully accepted by the truckers because she could spit tobacco juice farther and more accurately than any man there. Johnson looked around, found an empty booth, and sat down. Ricky Thornton came in a few minutes later and joined him. Who s the old gal at the counter? Johnson said. Maddie Flanagan. She s a real hoot. The Irish name and the plastic Jesus, in all probability, meant Catholic, and Johnson doubted that he d seen her at one of his tent revivals. Interesting driving style. Don t get folks around here going on Maddie s driving. They say the only thing s kept her alive is that plastic Jesus of hers. Well, the Lord protects those who place their faith in him, Johnson said. Ricky Thornton gave him a quizzical look, then nodded. He had a tendency to forget that Johnson was a preacher. The two men discussed this year s rental arrangements for Evans Field, a property that Thornton managed. It was where the local VFW softball league played on Friday nights. The base paths were maintained more by wear and tear of the runners than anything a grounds keeper did. A backstop made from old power poles and chicken wire protected what bit of a crowd would sit in its rickety travel cosmetic bags bleachers. It had night-lights and a large parking lot, though, which made it suitable for Reverend Johnson travel cosmetic bags s tent revival. Most of the details had been already worked out in the mail or by phone. Today s meeting was mostly just to get the paperwork signed. How s your ministry doing this year? Thornton paused at the word ministry. He was going to say business but thought that might sound inappropriate. We re doing well. It s just that people seem to be turning away from religion. Ricky blushed a little. Not that I m in a position to gauge. Can t say I attend services regularly. travel cosmetic bags Johnson smiled. The more they turn away from religion, the more they want to come to these tent revivals. They feel a need to get back what they ve lost. I guess that s why we call them revivals. Huh, never thought of it like that. Thornton travel cosmetic bags blushed a little deeper, feeling like he d said something stupid. Ricky Thornton and Ralph Johnson finished signing their papers and Johnson convinced Thornton to pick up lunch. He told him it could be a double travel cosmetic bags deduction, a business expense and a religious donation. Thornton did it only because he was picking up an easy commission on this one. Johnson made sure Maddie was still sitting at the counter and left. He wanted to be sure he wasn t going to share highway time with her. He pulled back onto the Interstate and headed toward Henderson, where he had to make similar arrangements. He thought about what Ricky Thornton had said about people giving up on religion and about his own reply, how it helped the revival business. He d never thought about it that way either. If that were true, he thought to himself, he ought to capitalize on it more. As he drove, he worked on a new sermon for this summer s circuit, a theme of lost faith refound. Back at the counter, Maddie ordered coffee and a piece of pie. When the pie came, she just stabbed at it for a while. Look like you got the whole world on your shoulders, Edna said. Maddie would ve jumped on anyone else for intruding on her thoughts, somber though they were. She liked Edna, though, something about her brashness or maybe the way she manipulated the men around her without their even noticing. Young, innocent thing like you got no idea how heavy the world can be at times. Edna looked away. Buddy pushed behind the counter and rubbed up against her as he passed by. Innocent? travel cosmetic bags Edna? You need to get out more, Buddy said to Maddie. Maddie stared at him as she shoved a little snuff into her mouth. travel cosmetic bags Edna pulled away from him, annoyed as much by his butting in as by his physical contact. If it s getting too hard to squeeze by, maybe you need to lose some weight. Maybe you need to be a little nicer to me. Buddy s tone had a dirty edge to it