Mr 6:00 AM

Freedom is worth it.

She slugged around, dragging her feet along the decaying pink of the floor tiles. The lights flickered on, blinking to life, as weary and nauseating as they were ten years ago. Wow. Ten years had really gone by that quickly? She shook it off, trying not to focus on that. Who wants to know how much older they’d gotten, anyway? How much everything had stayed the same since then? She grabbed the rag from the shelf and started wiping down the tables. They glistened to life in return, an eerie white glow. Two more weeks. She’d have enough then.

The bell jingled and she shot up straight, shocked into movement. Someone had walked in. Quinn didn’t start work until much later, so who the hell could it be? Her sinuses clear, shallow breaths pumping in and out, she looked at what stood before her. The rain from outside pattered lightly on the floor, highlighting the large body in little prisms of water, reflecting the dull white of the streetlamps outside. A sliver of winter air snaked in, shaking down her spine. She stared at the man; something about his presence, the heavy cloak resting on his high shoulders, the all-black clothing, his capturing eyes — she simply stared.

“We’re closed.” she forced out.

He stepped in fully, shutting the door behind him. She didn’t even hear it click.

“I hope you’ll pardon me.” His voice was deep, yet calming and assuring. He didn’t shout, but she knew that he would always be heard, even in a loud room. “See, I’m travelling early this morning. I have somewhere important to be but I am absolutely starving.” He chuckles. “I could eat a horse.”

He probably could, she thought. He must’ve been more than six foot five. Plus the boots he wore boosted him a few inches. A lull of silence rocked by, decorated by the rumbling of the rolling skies outside, alight with lightning and alive with thunder. The rain lightened up, still pattering on the windows of the cafe. She glanced outside, looking for his car or any mode of transportation he could’ve come with, but she saw nothing. A thousand questions bubbled in her mind. He inched forward and she snapped back, realizing she hadn’t responded yet.

“We’re not serving right now, sorry.”

He smiled. “Look, it’s just me. I don’t eat as much as people think. Just one meal, before the road ahead. Please..” He squinted at her. “…Annie.” Smiling again. This time warmly.

Annie flustered, the pang of guilt spreading on her heart. She could serve him, she knows, but she had no motivation to right now. Nobody ever came this early, anyway — the sun hadn’t even poked through the horizon. Rolling her eyes, pushing out a sigh, she directed the tall man to a booth. He slid in, surprisingly smoothly, laying his spider-like fingers out on the cool table. He picked up a menu and scanned what was available, unaware that Annie continued to stare, mulling over the thoughts circling her mind. Or perhaps he did know, and simply did not care.

She folded her arms, thoughts growing increasingly suspicious by the minute. Quinn’s Cafe & Diner was located off the highway, a nice food-stop for the drivers on long journeys from up north. They were relatively small, compared to the bigger franchises and restaurants down a mile, but they still saw their fair share of customers. ‘Big businesses can’t always maintain good food’, Quinn would say. She’d always believed in her business. Her little cafe. The neon red sign glowing in dark blanket of night, calling the tired and hungry like a truck-stop Siren. Her energy always spilled over to all her employees, sharing her enthusiasm by the bucket-loads. It’s one of the reasons why Annie stayed.

“Pancakes.”

Annie shook her head, blinking back into the present. “Sorry?”

The man smiled again, blinking slowly. His eyes felt deeper somehow with each blink, pulling Annie in. “Pancakes. I’d like pancakes, please.”

Something about politeness didn’t sit well. It felt off. Regardless, spinning on her heel, Annie walked behind the counter, slipping into the stocks room. She gathered the ingredients, trying her best to flick off the nag pulling her mind down a train of thought she tried her best to avoid. Like a loose thread on a piece of clothing — pulling may remove the problem. Or it may open a wider problem. She quickly left the stock room, and not too long afterwards found herself preparing pancakes.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it, Annie?” His voice crawled across the floor, tiptoeing behind her.

“What is?” she shouted back, hoping he didn’t hear the panic in her voice. Something about his demeanour, composed and controlled, cultured an anxiety in her that she couldn’t tame.

“This. This rain. This storm. This place.”

She turned around to see him exactly where she’d left him. The light above his table had started to flicker and blink frantically, buzzing sporadically. She shuffled over to him, hastily dropping his hot plate down before him. Without hesitation or a moment to waste, his large hand enveloped the plate, pulling up a pancake and stuffing it in his mouth. He chewed slowly and heavily, like a camel, only that he was quiet. A slow release of air from his nose, succeeded by his brandished smile. He was satisfied. He nodded slowly, all the while never taking his eyes off Annie.

She stood, now ignorant of the blinking light next to her, captured in the essence of this strange man. It was as if all the light in the cafe was being pulled towards him in a current of light, only to be entirely devoured by the vacuum that was the man in all black. Annie could’ve sworn she was dreaming.

With an orchestrated slowness, he motioned to her: sit down. Annie quickly shook her head vehemently.

“Oh, no, no, I can’t. I’ve got to set the place up. Y’know, wipe the tables, get the kettles ready..” she chuckled. Why was she so nervous?

He waved his hand nonchalantly in response, as if waving off the tasks — erasing them one by one. Still chewing silently, he motioned her towards the seat opposite him again, slower this time around, as if guiding her. Before she knew it, Annie was sitting down. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the chair, palms pressed down.

“I don’t mean to disturb you.” he said. She hadn’t seen him swallow. “I’d just like some company with this gorgeous breakfast. Especially as the company is gorgeous too.”

She chuckled, brushing off the compliment. How many times had she heard that before? Men. Don’t they ever learn? She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, ready to dismiss herself.

“Are you happy?” he spoke, suddenly serious. His voice ran deep, smooth yet dangerous — a turbulent river. He leaned forward, the flickering light above them still buzzing, casting deep trembling shadows across his face. Blacks and greys blanketing his cheeks, running along his nose; all the while his deep dark eyes stayed planted on Annie, invitingly.

She hesitated, but only for a second. “A-About to be. I go on holiday in two weeks to-”

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head slowly, rain still dripping off his damp coat. “Let me guess. You look like a tropical person.”

“Isn’t everybody?”

“The Caribbean.”

She smiled, a sudden rush of comfort washing over her. Maybe she was wrong about him. “Yes. How did you-”

“Easy.” He paused, staring at her, a smile creeping across his face. “I know you.”

Annie spurted out a chuckle. “Sorry?” The nervousness returned, running low in the back of her mind.

“I said I know you.”

“That’s impossible. I haven’t met you before.”

“I hope you know yourself.” He lifted his head up, eating the last pancake in large bites. The silence lingered, quickly turning into awkward gaps devoid of sound. The soft look settled in his eyes scattered and dissipated as he pored into Annie with the full darkness swirling within his irises. She shifted in her chair, seemingly unable to move. He continued:

“I travel a lot, you know. One day, one place. Another day, another place. Today, here. And I’ve asked a lot of people a lot of questions. Did you know a lot of people don’t believe in coincidences?” He chuckled, a deep rumbling that better resembled two heavy rocks being rubbed against each other. “I do. Roll a dice enough times and you’ll see. I know you’ve been here a long time, Annie. I can see it in your eyes.”

Annie’s fingers started to hurt; she grasped the edges of the chair with more force than she thought she could possibly muster. She felt as if she was sinking into the chair itself, a black infinity waiting for her on the other side. The man seemed to grow, as she seemed to shrink. His voice continued to lace the cold morning air.

“If only you’d stop being afraid!” He smacked the table with a sudden fervor and energy, leaving the utensils tinkling as they shivered from the force. “You’ve always made excuses when you were afraid, since Granny Helen’s. There are a lot of things that can scare you out there. Don’t let life be one of them. Why wait two weeks? You could be free now, Annie. Think about that.”

With a gasp, she suddenly jolted out of her chair, her consciousness zooming back into her mind. She stood, panting heavily. She rubbed the sweat off her hands on her apron, swallowing hard in fear. Was she being irrational? Is this even real? Tears took position behind her eyes; she held her breath, trying everything in her power not to cry, not in front of this strange man. No. She wasn’t going to cry. Who was this man?

“I don’t even know your name.” she said weakly, the words wobbling out from her mouth.

He smiled again, only this time she felt as if a sliver of ice slipped down her chest. “What’s the time?” he said nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened.

She looked at her watch. The thunder rumbled again and lightning clapped in the dark skies. It was 6:00 AM. “6:00”, she said.

“Well, just call me Mr 6:00 AM, then.”

“6 AM…” She turned around quickly, facing the counter. The salmon pink and classic red theme of the cafe only made her feel queasy now. Her stomach rumbled and her forehead glistened with sweat. She reached over in a panic, quickly pouring herself a glass of water. Swallowing in heavy gulps, Annie consumed it. She closed her eyes as the coolness trickled through her body, a balm of stillness resting on her shoulders. Annie took a deep breath and turned, slowly, back towards Mr 6:00 AM — only to see that he was no longer there.

His chair was empty; so was his table. Nothing remained that would’ve suggested somebody had ever been in. No dents in the worn cushion of the seat. Nothing.

The rain intensified, thick pellets pounding against the window. Thunder growled deep in the heart of the dark skies as cables of lightning shot across it like veins. Annie exhaled deeply, hands trembling. Before she even registered it, tears dribbled down her cheeks. She sat down, shaken and scared, in Quinn’s Cafe & Diner, thinking of how to be free.