On the Other Side of Nowhere

I was dreaming. I knew because my brother’s hair was neat, and if you knew my brother, you’d know that he didn’t even own a comb (and probably still doesn’t). Even so, it took me a while to realise that what I was experiencing wasn’t reality, because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d dreamt about something which had actually happened. It could only be a bad omen.

Tommy’s smiling face was bent over the cake. Blue frosting spelled out the same words which were on the homemade banner stretching across the ceiling. I’d helped make both, and had a hard time deciding which words to write out fully since there wasn’t enough room for both ‘congratulations’ and ‘University of Wisconsin’. In the end I went with Congrats on UW!

My brother cut the cake, slicing right through the ‘UW’ and a great cheer went up around me from the blurred faces of friends and relatives. My parents had to be around here somewhere. I wanted to find them – no, I needed to find them. I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like the most important thing in the world as I pushed through the crowd, searching.

Ahead of me I saw what could have been my mother’s greying hair, but it disappeared just as quickly. My father’s stout shoulders played the same trick moments later. I called out to them; first with calm restraint but eventually my cries became more desperate as they continued to elude me.

Suddenly, Tommy appeared in front of me, with his hair slicked down uncharacteristically and his old high school football jersey over his chest which was rapidly changing colours: navy to green to fuchsia to red and back to navy.

“Where are mom and dad?” I begged him.

He looked at me blankly for a moment. “Where are you?”

I woke up then, not with gasping breath or a racing heart, but with an odd sense of disorientation, as if I’d just missed a step on the staircase and was momentarily freefalling. It only left when I recognised the feel of the covers against my sleeping skin. I never wanted to get out of bed. I wanted to stay here forever, or at least until I was certain that nothing bad was going to happen.

If the past was already catching up to me in my dreams, how long before it caught up to me in reality?



Eventually I dragged myself from under the covers, only because I had work this morning. It wasn’t raining outside and there was actually a small break in the clouds for the first time in a long time. I left the car parked by the drug store and walked the mile or so to the diner, which proved to be a mistake since the ground was so muddy my ankles were caked by the time I got there. The first ten minutes of my shift was devoted to cleaning them.

When I slipped inside the diner without notice, I was hoping it was too early for anyone to have heard about the dreadful date with Dick last night. News travelled fast in Nowhere, but not that fast. Unfortunately, Natalie’s impish grin when she saw me didn’t leave me with a good feeling.

“How was it?” she asked, and I knew she knew, she just wanted to hear me say it.

Before I could come up with a neutral response, Shauna cut in. “Al ain’t payin’ you to gossip, Nat.”

Natalie shot Shauna a quick glare, bristling at the shortened form of her name, before rolling her eyes and getting back to work. Shauna smiled supportively at me and I fought back a cringe because apparently everyone knew what happened last night with Dick. News in Nowhere really did travel that fast.

I tried to keep myself busy, distracted, but my eyes darted constantly to the door of the diner, waiting, hoping. Finally, Dylan came in and I had to take a nervous moment to gather myself before going over there. But in the time it took me to confirm that my hair looked okay and my pinafore was on straight, Natalie was already taking his order. I watched Dylan’s mouth form his standard response of French toast and coffee. Natalie scribbled it down, glanced cautiously around, and slid into the seat across from Dylan, much to both our surprise.

Gravitating towards them under the pretence of wiping tables, I tried to hear what she had to say to him.

“David, right?”

“Dylan,” Dylan mumbled.

“Oh.” She almost sounded remorseful for getting his name wrong. Almost. “You work at the pub, don’t you?” I snuck a brief peek in their direction to see Dylan nod, still looking confounded as to Natalie’s sudden interest in him. “Were you working last night?” Another nod, but this time it was accompanied by Dylan’s tawny eyes flickering to me. Natalie’s head swivelled to follow his gaze and I made sure to keep mine submerged in the speckled laminex of the tabletop. She opened her mouth and the beginnings of words came out, but she was interrupted.

“Nat! What did I say about Al payin’ you?”

“But I’m just-”

“Do some work!”

Not even Natalie could resist Shauna’s authority as she grudgingly left Dylan’s table and got back to earning her pay check. The wage at Al’s wasn’t much, but it was above minimum and that’s what mattered.

I chanced another look at Dylan. His eyes caught mine and he smiled slightly, lifting one hand in greeting. I did the same. However, our interaction was cut short when a tap on my shoulder made me jolt with alarm.

Dick looked surprisingly sober for someone who’d drunk like an aspiring alcoholic the night before. He was wearing his sunglasses again (which may have had something to do with him not appearing too hung over) and even smiled at me, as if last night was nothing more than a distant dream.

“H-hi,” I managed, startled. “How are you feeling?”

“Me? Oh, I’m dandy,” Dick replied. “The drink doesn’t affect me like it does most. I can have a whole keg to myself and be right as rain.”

“Oh, okay.” I shifted awkwardly but didn’t make up an excuse to leave. Part of me was waiting for something, an apology or an explanation. I got neither.

“Last night was pretty wild.”

That’s one way to put it, I thought.

“You wanna do it again soon? Tonight, maybe?”

I was stunned. He was asking me out again? “Do you remember much of last night?”

“Sure. Some of it.” He shrugged. “So will you go out with me?”

I hesitated, torn between saying what I wanted and what he wanted to hear. Trying to please other people and avoid conflict was an old habit of mine. But eventually my common sense won out. I’d promised one date, and I’d delivered. There was no reason for me to go on another one with him other than to spare his feelings. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Dick.”

His smile dropped and he turned defensive. “Why not?”

There were reasons, dozens of them (the drunken kiss sprang to mind, a disturbing mixture of wet and scratchy), but I still wanted to make this as painless as possible. “I just think we’re too different.”

“Is that all?”

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t respond to that, pushing his aviators further up his nose. “Fine,” he said with a hint of bitterness. “If this is what you want, you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences.”

Dick exited and I was left to avoid the curious gazes of everyone in the diner, wondering what he’d meant by that last statement. When I got home that afternoon to find the Sheriff waiting with Mr. Walsh outside my door, I knew.