Pancakes at Denny's

Denny’s is at its best at 4 in the morning. It’s one of those in-between times; too late for the night owls, too early for the morning birds. It’s during that hour when the families clear out, and the more interesting clientele come in. Tonight was no different. There were two men in long coats at a table, speaking in hushed tones while trying to pretend they weren’t Russian spies. A woman with a heavy guitar case stared apprehensively at the door, jumping with fright at every loud noise around her. Two teenagers dressed in black leather and smelling like blood talked animatedly at each other in a booth. An in between time for the kind of people who exist in in between spaces.

I was seated at a corner booth next to the window, sipping my coffee and listening to the rain. Not proper rain, really. More like half-hearted sleet that couldn’t muster the effort to be anything more than cold sludge. Even so, the tapping sound of it playing against the window had a soothing rhythm to it.

I only realized I had a companion at my booth when the waitress brought a second cup of coffee to the table. A man had appeared across from me without making a sound. He wore plain black clothes and a white mask that completely covered his face. The mask was a solid piece of plastic with no holes for the mouth or eyes, but a face had been crudely drawn on it with a black marker. Two triangles had been drawn at the top of the mask, presumably meant to look like horns. I always thought they looked more like cat ears.

“Hello, Catty.” I said to him. I’d started using that name for him long ago, when I was trying to get a reaction from him by making fun of his mask. It hadn’t worked, but the name had stuck. “I heard you have a job for me?”

Catty didn’t say anything. He never does. Instead of a reply, he picked up his coffee cup. Watching Catty move is always an interesting experience. He only moves one part of his body at a time. While the rest of him stayed locked still, his right arm slowly picked up the cup. I carefully kept an eye on that cup as he lifted it to his mask. I know there’s no mouth hole there, but when he put the cup down there was unmistakably less coffee in it than before.

The silence between us stretched on, filled only by the tap dancing of the rain. It finally broke when the waitress returned to ask for our orders. “I’ll have a plate of two pancakes.” I said. She looked expectantly at Catty. He didn’t move or say a word, but she still nodded and wrote something down. I watched her until she’d walked out of earshot, and then looked back at the table. A manila envelope had appeared in front of me. I eyed Catty suspiciously, but he was sitting in the exact spot and pose as before.

There were only two things inside the envelope. A small piece of paper with the name “Sara Valentine,” followed by an address. Attached was a photograph of a young woman working at a bar. Early, maybe mid-twenties. Had her hair tied in pigtails, which I thought was unusual for someone that age. Either 5’6” or 5’7”, give or take an inch depending on what kind of shoes she was wearing. She would have been quite pretty if she hadn’t dyed her hair that dark blue color or gotten that lip piercing. I don’t understand why kids these days insist on ruining their looks with those kind of fad fashions.

“Okay. This Sara girl.” I said. “What do you want me to do with her?”

Catty remained silent.

“If you don’t tell me anything, I’m just going to hang around her like a really unmotivated stalker until I see something interesting happen.”

Still, nothing. I sighed. The people you meet in this business….

The waitress came by at that moment with our food. I wasn’t hungry, but I’ve learned that in life you have to appreciate the times when you can sit down and eat Denny’s pancakes in peace. Catty had gotten an omelet. Plain cheese, nothing else on the side. When I looked back from his food, a white envelope had appeared in front of me. Gave Catty another suspicious stare. I know I hadn’t been looking away long enough for him to put that there. Inside this envelope was my payment; after opening it up I started counting the bills. Then I went back and counted them again. I could feel my eyebrows going up in surprise as I confirmed the amount. While I know the saying about gift horses and their mouths, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Are you sure this is what you want to pay?”

Catty didn’t say a word.

Well, alright. If someone wants to pay me five times my usual rate, that’s their problem. I’m not going to discourage that kind of behavior. “I’ll head over to see her….” I stopped when I realized the omelet had vanished from Catty’s plate. I looked over his mask for any signs of crumbs or leftover food, but didn’t see any trace of them. One of these days, Catty. One of these days I’ll catch you acting like a real human being. “I’ll head over to see her tomorrow night.
 I resumed saying. “I’m assuming you’ll update me on any changes?”

Catty said nothing, which I assumed was a yes.

As our business finished, the waitress dropped off the check. With a sly grin I said to Catty, “You know, it’s custom for the man to pay for the woman’s meal.”

For several seconds, Catty didn’t move. I wondered if he was ignoring me. Then his left hand slowly reached under out of sight the table. When he brought it back up, it was holding stack of various bills, which he carefully placed on the check.

“That’ll do,” I said. “See you around, Catty.” I didn’t bother looking back as I left the restaurant. I knew he’d have already vanished from the booth.

Let’s see how this job goes.