“I am not from around here.” She told the stout woman who approached.
“Few people are, darling.” The waitress, Cindy, told her with a smile.
“I can imagine,” Laura, the woman who looked around, stated as she sat on her bar stool.
“How’s that?” Cindy asked, not needing to rush her since she was the only customer without a meal in the diner.
“I just drove up 9w and it was beautiful.” As Laura spoke, she again looked around as if trying to find someone or something she lost.
Cindy took the pause to mean that there was something she should ask. “It is beautiful. I suppose many people move to town to enjoy the redwood forest.”
“Yes, I suppose, but it was when I got off route 9w. It was another world. I come from a farm in Utah and there is so much space there. All the roads are long and most are wide. Here, however, two streets never meet at a right angle and they are hardly streets at all. Instead, you have tiny little roads like, ‘courts,’ terraces,’ ‘ways.’”
“There is a ‘landing’ or two.” Cindy chuckled.
Laura ignored Cindy’s little joke and continued, “And lining these street-like things are rows on rows of tiny houses that only the lawn ornaments distinguish between the different properties.”
“I have heard of new people calling up a taxis just to have them lead them out of neighborhoods,” Cindy said light-heartedly, trying to make her customer feel at ease. After a moment Cindy asked, “What will make you feel better right now? I can get you a coffee or maybe a pie?”
“Coffee and pie sounds good. Do you have apple pie?” Laura answered, forcing a smile on her face.
“Yes, darling, I will get you a piece of warm apple pie and you can tell me more about what brought you here.”
Cindy left, took care of a few other customers, and came back with a coffee and pie for Laura. As Cindy slid the plate and mug towards the mid-twenty-year-old she asked, “So, tell me the story of brought you to Suburbia.”
“That is simple. My husband got a job in the city, but we didn’t want to live in a city. We had a great big farm we lived on in Utah. My brothers took care of horses and my family had some cattle. If this job wasn’t something he felt he needed to do, I would have stayed on the farm.”
“Is that who you are looking for?”
“What?” Laura asked, shocked that Cindy noticed her nerves.
“You keep looking around.”
“Yes, we were supposed to meet 20 minutes ago, but I was running late. I don’t know why he would be this late.”
Just then, as if Laura’s husband heard his story being told, he walked in the door and straight to his wife. With a kiss on the cheek, her nerves went away and they could enjoy the apple pie together, before ordering their meal.
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Cinquain
