Town Haunts Read Online Free Page A

popular with the motorcycle crowd who rode down from Calgary to
eat it. It combined rich layers of egg, Swiss cheese, mushrooms,
spinach, ham and cream, and was served with baking powder
biscuits.
    “I just got a
fresh batch out of the oven,” Frank said. His girlfriend, Judy,
yawned as she strolled out of the kitchen, still tying her apron
strings behind her back. Judy’s teased blond hair was covered by a
white Stetson, which she teamed with a plaid shirt, jeans, and
boots. She had a full-time job with a local real estate agency, but
helped Mary out with the waitressing on Saturdays. Frank
reciprocated by keeping The Diner closed on Sundays so that they
could enjoy a day off together.
    “Morning,
Anna,” Judy said. “What do you want to drink?”
    “How about a
hot chocolate? It’s so cold and damp this morning, I sure could use
one.”
    “You bet,
honey. Coming right up,” Judy replied, turning to a stack of mugs
on the service counter.
    “How’s your mom
doing, Clive?” Anna shouted into his ear.
    “My mother?
She’s doing good, thanks. The arthritis in her hands is acting up,
though. I told her not to start making the pickles without me
yesterday, but she wouldn’t listen. All that slicing is hard on her
knuckles, especially in this weather. I’ve got a couple of jars for
you in the tractor – Mother knows how much you love them.” During
her first autumn in Crane, Anna had accepted a jar of Mrs.
Wampole’s pickles and had choked on the toxic level of the vinegar.
Every autumn thereafter, Mrs. Wampole had sent over two jars of
pickles, and Anna had reciprocated with home-made cookies at
Christmas.
    “Hey, Clive,
with Ben in school, I’m the only one at home these days. Maybe I
should just take one jar. I wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”
    “That’s okay,
Anna. Give Ben a jar to share with his roommates next time he
visits.” Anna smiled, knowing how much her son hated the pickles,
too.
    Judy squirted
some whipped cream into Anna’s hot chocolate and placed the mug
before her. A moment later, Mary slapped a plate of the special
down in front of Clive, exchanging a nod with Anna before picking
up a coffee pot and bustling away. Clive grabbed a bottle of
tabasco sauce from beside the salt and pepper and splashed a
generous dose on his food. Anna shook her head in disbelief.
    “Clive, the way
you eat that hot stuff, I don’t know why you don’t have a hole in
your stomach.”
    “Are you
kidding? Why do you think I never get sick?” He forked a large
piece into his mouth and quickly chewed it. Closing his eyes in
appreciation, Clive moaned, “Oh, this is such good stuff.”
    Anna picked up
her hot chocolate and was about to head to her friends’ table when
something thumped against the outside of the restaurant window.
Everyone looked up as Henry Fellows flung the door open and stormed
inside. Henry was gangly and habitually neat, dressed in a tie and
a tweed jacket, but he wore neither today. His normally pristine
shirt and pants were clinging to him, wet from the rain, and his
straw-coloured hair was plastered to his face. He glanced around
the room, pausing to wipe his dripping nose and push the hair out
of his eyes, before darting behind the cashier’s station next to
the window.
    “Hey!” Judy
shouted, rushing to intercept him. Henry ripped the notice
advertising the cleansing ritual from the glass and waved it in
Judy’s face. The room quieted.
    “What the hell
is this? Where’s Frank?” Not waiting for an answer, he shoved her
into the cash register and bolted through the swinging door into
the kitchen. Judy rebounded and ran after him.
    A moment too
late, Clive shouted, “Hey, wait just one minute, Henry,” before
jumping to his feet. Together, he and Anna rushed to the swinging
door to see what was happening.
    The kitchen was
small, really only big enough for Frank. The centre of the room was
filled with a large butcher-block island, with cupboards, a
preparation