story
even though i wrote it relatively quickly and did pretty much NO rewriting whatsoever, i decided to post a short story in here. it needs work, and i actually don't expect anyone to read it. whatever.
The most remarkable set of coincidences ever to take place in Waseca, Minnesota, actually occurred unbeknownst to a group of strangers in a Denny’s just off of Exit 2 on a June day about seven weeks ago.
Marcus Baxter was sitting at table 3 of section 4C, the smoking section. Marcus, a twenty-three-year-old graphic designer, decided to stop for a late lunch in Waseca on his way home from St. Paul, where he had been visiting a friend.
Four minutes earlier, Sean and Cecilia Bernard had been seated in a booth at the opposite end of section 4C. They had actually requested to be seated in the nonsmoking section, but the hostess misunderstood Sean. Sean decided to let it slide because it was obviously a mistake and Denny’s was relatively slow that day.
“No big deal,” he told Cecilia. “Nobody’s even sitting in the smoking section anyhow.”
Although Cecilia would typically agree with her husband, she had recently decided to stay away from second hand smoke as much as possible. She also understood, however, that Denny’s wasn’t the best place to tell Sean why.
Six and a half minutes after Marcus arrived, Calvin Thomas and Jamie Sterling were seated at a table in the middle of section 4C. Calvin and Jamie, who had finished their freshman year at the University of Minnesota a month earlier, each smoke close to a pack a day.
After ordering two cups of coffee, Calvin and Jamie began discussing various teachers that they had encountered that year. During the course of their discussion, Jamie mentioned his biology professor, Dr. Russell Oliver. Coincidentally, Dr. Oliver was a colleague of Cecilia’s father. Although Cecilia was well within earshot and heard Jamie mention Dr. Oliver, she failed to recognize the name.
As college freshmen often do, Jamie decided to share a slightly crude story with Calvin.
“Well, Dr. Oliver wasn’t so bad, but he was completely oblivious. He probably wrote his lesson plans about a half a century ago and hasn’t changed them since. Seriously, I had a friend that had him for lab and our notes were identical. Oliver gives the same exact lectures to every class. Trust me, this guy wouldn’t change a fucking word of his lesson plan if he was teaching the Pope about evolution.”
Sean hates it when kids curse in public, but he didn’t say anything.
Calvin was listening intently. He had always been just slightly jealous of Jamie’s ability to tell stories so well.
Jamie continued.
“So one day Oliver was giving a lecture about sexual reproduction, right? Well this girl that sits in front of me, Amanda Franklin, she was one of the members of that ridiculous club, Freshmen for Abstinence. You know what I’m talking about?”
Calvin nodded. He had dated a member of Freshmen for Abstinence his first semester. In fact, Calvin had pledged membership in the club in order to meet her. But he didn’t want to tell Jamie that.
“Well Oliver’s going on and on about the contents of semen. He was talking about how there are various sugars in it, like fructose or something. You know, to provide nourishment for the sperm or whatever?”
Calvin nodded, but he didn’t know what Jamie was talking about.
“Yeah, so he’s talking about that, and the second he says ‘sugars,’ Amanda Franklin’s hand pops up. Oliver doesn’t normally answer questions in the middle of his lectures, but that’s mainly because nobody ever asks questions in the middle of his lectures. So he calls on Franklin. Franklin, a huge member of the Freshmen Ballbusters Club or whatever, says the following: ‘Dr. Oliver? If there’s a bunch of sugar or whatever in semen, then how come it tastes so salty?’ Can you believe that? In front of a bunch of her abstinent friends and everything! Oliver just froze and then tried to change the subject or something. It was brilliant.”
Calvin laughed. Jamie was on his third cigarette by this point, and Sean and Cecilia were trying hard to ignore the smoke and the story. Marcus, who also overheard the story, thought it was relatively entertaining, however. Marcus was working on his laptop and passively listening to Jamie and Calvin.
Amanda Franklin. That name sounds familiar, he thought to himself. And for a good reason.
When Marcus was in the fifth grade, he kissed a girl named Brittany Franklin in the pool at a local YMCA. The next day, Brittany was hit by a car while riding her bicycle to Marcus’s house. Marcus visited Brittany in the hospital later that week, but she was comatose and the experience left him feeling helpless and uncomfortable. He developed feelings of guilt for being the reason that Brittany was riding her bike in his neighborhood, and he never told anyone that he had kissed her the day before. The day he visited Brittany and her family, Marcus sat in the waiting room next to Brittany’s five-year-old sister Amanda. Nine days later Brittany died. Thirteen years later, Amanda raised her hand in biology class and asked a stupid question.
Marcus still avoids hospitals at all costs. They bring back bizarre pangs of guilt, but he consciously avoids thinking about why.
There was a narrow sliver of window on the west wall of Denny’s that wasn’t being blocked by the blinds, and a beam of orange sunlight slipped through and penetrated the smoke above section 4C. The sunlight was falling directly on Marcus’s face, but it was keeping him awake along with the caffeine and nicotine. Marcus’s apartment was only about twenty-five minutes from Waseca, but the drive was making his eyes weary, and he thought a few cups of coffee and an atmosphere other than his car and the open road might get his mind off the night before. Besides, nothing exciting was awaiting him at home and his empty apartment always made him feel isolated.
Eighteen hours earlier, Marcus was coordinating his breathing so that it synched up with his footsteps as he climbed the stairs to his friend Andrew’s apartment. Marcus didn’t go to St. Paul because Andrew asked him to, but because Andrew’s wife Emma called him and desperately pled with him to do so.
Andrew and Emma had been married for a year and parents for about five months. Andrew thought he was prepared to be a father by the time their son Jack was born, but he wasn’t at all prepared for Jack’s condition. Jack was born with a rare genetic disorder known as Hunter Syndrome. Although the condition isn’t typically identifiable before about eighteen months, Jack’s case was remarkably severe.
Andrew didn’t take the news very well. In fact, Marcus knew that Andrew hadn’t been the same since Jack was diagnosed. And on this particular night, Emma called Marcus begging him to make the two hour drive because Andrew was more upset than she’d ever seen him.
When Marcus got to the apartment, Emma was crying with Jack in her arms, and Andrew had locked himself in the bedroom. Andrew let Marcus in the room and sat back down on the far corner of the bed. Andrew was clearly drunk and the room reeked of pot.
Andrew and Marcus aren’t very fond of formalities, and the two have been friends for years.
“What’s the problem, man? What’s wrong?”
“What the fuck do you think, Marcus? Five months and I still can’t figure out what to do about Jack. I can’t even look at him. I wasn’t ready for it, Marcus. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for it. It had to have been something I did wrong. I’ve been smoking pot for nearly ten years. Emma doesn’t even know about the blow or any of the other stuff I messed around with. But I didn’t expect her to get pregnant. Otherwise…I don’t know man. The doctor said Emma did everything right; what if it was me, Marcus? All the pot and alcohol probably messed up my semen’s pH levels or sugar content or something.”
“Come on, Andrew. Hunter’s is genetic. There’s nothing you could’ve done. Now all you can do is take care of Jack and Emma. You know she can’t do it alone.”
The rest of the night was mainly spent reminiscing about college. That’s all Marcus really could do for Andrew, and it’s all Andrew really wanted.
“More coffee?”
The waitress’s voice startled Marcus, but he was grateful for the interruption. He did all he could for Andrew the night before. He hoped he had made a difference, but he didn’t want to think about it anymore.
“Sure. More coffee and the check, please.”
Denise Gregory has been a waitress at the Denny’s just off of Exit 2 in Waseca, Minnesota, for about five years. Denise is twice divorced and has never lived anywhere outside of a twenty mile radius, but she likes it that way. Long ago she lost track of how many jobs she’s had in and around Waseca, but they all feel the same anyhow. She’s been waiting tables since she graduated from high school. Interestingly enough, she graduated with a man named Richard Thomas, whose son Calvin was sitting across from Jamie Sterling at table 5 of section 4C on this particular June day. Denise didn’t especially care for Richard, however. He always seemed to try awfully hard to impress girls.
Sean and Cecilia were finishing with their meal, but they were anxious to get home. Sean was a little annoyed, and neither he nor Cecilia cared for places like Denny’s anyhow.
Cecilia and Sean are actually distantly blood related, but they are unaware of the fact and it’s not a close enough relation to be anything other than noteworthy. Technically, Cecilia’s great aunt is Sean’s father’s third cousin once removed. In fact, they both attended the same family reunion once fourteen years before they married.
On the day of Sean and Cecilia’s wedding, Cecilia’s great aunt said to her, “You know, I believe one of my cousins told me a grandchild of theirs was getting married today as well.”
Although Sean and Cecilia’s relation is so distant that their marriage could hardly ever be considered incestuous, they both carry a recessive gene that is somewhat common in their family. The gene would cause a lysosomal disorder only in very rare instances, but because Sean and Cecilia both carry the gene, there is nearly a 100% chance that all of their potential children would inherit the disease. The disorder is known as Hunter Syndrome.
About an hour before Sean and Cecilia arrived at Denny’s that afternoon, Cecilia had discovered that she was pregnant.
By the time the beam of sunlight cutting through 4C had disappeared, the entire section was empty. Empty, that is, except for Denise, who was resting where Sean had been about five minutes earlier. She loved this time of day. It gave her a minute to get off her feet and have a cigarette in peace before the dinner rush. She always liked being assigned to the smoking section. She glanced over to where Jamie and Calvin had been sitting and saw that they had left a tip.
Hmm, she thought. Must have missed it when I cleared the table.
Denise walked over and pocketed the bill, which she assumed was only a dollar. It was actually a twenty.
Thirteen seconds later, Jamie turned to Calvin from the driver’s seat.
“Shit, Calvin. I think I left the waitress a twenty dollar tip by mistake.”
(it's about six people in the smoking section of a denny's, a genetic disorder, a couple of unfortunate coincidences, and a dumb girl's thoughts about semen.)
The most remarkable set of coincidences ever to take place in Waseca, Minnesota, actually occurred unbeknownst to a group of strangers in a Denny’s just off of Exit 2 on a June day about seven weeks ago.
Marcus Baxter was sitting at table 3 of section 4C, the smoking section. Marcus, a twenty-three-year-old graphic designer, decided to stop for a late lunch in Waseca on his way home from St. Paul, where he had been visiting a friend.
Four minutes earlier, Sean and Cecilia Bernard had been seated in a booth at the opposite end of section 4C. They had actually requested to be seated in the nonsmoking section, but the hostess misunderstood Sean. Sean decided to let it slide because it was obviously a mistake and Denny’s was relatively slow that day.
“No big deal,” he told Cecilia. “Nobody’s even sitting in the smoking section anyhow.”
Although Cecilia would typically agree with her husband, she had recently decided to stay away from second hand smoke as much as possible. She also understood, however, that Denny’s wasn’t the best place to tell Sean why.
Six and a half minutes after Marcus arrived, Calvin Thomas and Jamie Sterling were seated at a table in the middle of section 4C. Calvin and Jamie, who had finished their freshman year at the University of Minnesota a month earlier, each smoke close to a pack a day.
After ordering two cups of coffee, Calvin and Jamie began discussing various teachers that they had encountered that year. During the course of their discussion, Jamie mentioned his biology professor, Dr. Russell Oliver. Coincidentally, Dr. Oliver was a colleague of Cecilia’s father. Although Cecilia was well within earshot and heard Jamie mention Dr. Oliver, she failed to recognize the name.
As college freshmen often do, Jamie decided to share a slightly crude story with Calvin.
“Well, Dr. Oliver wasn’t so bad, but he was completely oblivious. He probably wrote his lesson plans about a half a century ago and hasn’t changed them since. Seriously, I had a friend that had him for lab and our notes were identical. Oliver gives the same exact lectures to every class. Trust me, this guy wouldn’t change a fucking word of his lesson plan if he was teaching the Pope about evolution.”
Sean hates it when kids curse in public, but he didn’t say anything.
Calvin was listening intently. He had always been just slightly jealous of Jamie’s ability to tell stories so well.
Jamie continued.
“So one day Oliver was giving a lecture about sexual reproduction, right? Well this girl that sits in front of me, Amanda Franklin, she was one of the members of that ridiculous club, Freshmen for Abstinence. You know what I’m talking about?”
Calvin nodded. He had dated a member of Freshmen for Abstinence his first semester. In fact, Calvin had pledged membership in the club in order to meet her. But he didn’t want to tell Jamie that.
“Well Oliver’s going on and on about the contents of semen. He was talking about how there are various sugars in it, like fructose or something. You know, to provide nourishment for the sperm or whatever?”
Calvin nodded, but he didn’t know what Jamie was talking about.
“Yeah, so he’s talking about that, and the second he says ‘sugars,’ Amanda Franklin’s hand pops up. Oliver doesn’t normally answer questions in the middle of his lectures, but that’s mainly because nobody ever asks questions in the middle of his lectures. So he calls on Franklin. Franklin, a huge member of the Freshmen Ballbusters Club or whatever, says the following: ‘Dr. Oliver? If there’s a bunch of sugar or whatever in semen, then how come it tastes so salty?’ Can you believe that? In front of a bunch of her abstinent friends and everything! Oliver just froze and then tried to change the subject or something. It was brilliant.”
Calvin laughed. Jamie was on his third cigarette by this point, and Sean and Cecilia were trying hard to ignore the smoke and the story. Marcus, who also overheard the story, thought it was relatively entertaining, however. Marcus was working on his laptop and passively listening to Jamie and Calvin.
Amanda Franklin. That name sounds familiar, he thought to himself. And for a good reason.
When Marcus was in the fifth grade, he kissed a girl named Brittany Franklin in the pool at a local YMCA. The next day, Brittany was hit by a car while riding her bicycle to Marcus’s house. Marcus visited Brittany in the hospital later that week, but she was comatose and the experience left him feeling helpless and uncomfortable. He developed feelings of guilt for being the reason that Brittany was riding her bike in his neighborhood, and he never told anyone that he had kissed her the day before. The day he visited Brittany and her family, Marcus sat in the waiting room next to Brittany’s five-year-old sister Amanda. Nine days later Brittany died. Thirteen years later, Amanda raised her hand in biology class and asked a stupid question.
Marcus still avoids hospitals at all costs. They bring back bizarre pangs of guilt, but he consciously avoids thinking about why.
There was a narrow sliver of window on the west wall of Denny’s that wasn’t being blocked by the blinds, and a beam of orange sunlight slipped through and penetrated the smoke above section 4C. The sunlight was falling directly on Marcus’s face, but it was keeping him awake along with the caffeine and nicotine. Marcus’s apartment was only about twenty-five minutes from Waseca, but the drive was making his eyes weary, and he thought a few cups of coffee and an atmosphere other than his car and the open road might get his mind off the night before. Besides, nothing exciting was awaiting him at home and his empty apartment always made him feel isolated.
Eighteen hours earlier, Marcus was coordinating his breathing so that it synched up with his footsteps as he climbed the stairs to his friend Andrew’s apartment. Marcus didn’t go to St. Paul because Andrew asked him to, but because Andrew’s wife Emma called him and desperately pled with him to do so.
Andrew and Emma had been married for a year and parents for about five months. Andrew thought he was prepared to be a father by the time their son Jack was born, but he wasn’t at all prepared for Jack’s condition. Jack was born with a rare genetic disorder known as Hunter Syndrome. Although the condition isn’t typically identifiable before about eighteen months, Jack’s case was remarkably severe.
Andrew didn’t take the news very well. In fact, Marcus knew that Andrew hadn’t been the same since Jack was diagnosed. And on this particular night, Emma called Marcus begging him to make the two hour drive because Andrew was more upset than she’d ever seen him.
When Marcus got to the apartment, Emma was crying with Jack in her arms, and Andrew had locked himself in the bedroom. Andrew let Marcus in the room and sat back down on the far corner of the bed. Andrew was clearly drunk and the room reeked of pot.
Andrew and Marcus aren’t very fond of formalities, and the two have been friends for years.
“What’s the problem, man? What’s wrong?”
“What the fuck do you think, Marcus? Five months and I still can’t figure out what to do about Jack. I can’t even look at him. I wasn’t ready for it, Marcus. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for it. It had to have been something I did wrong. I’ve been smoking pot for nearly ten years. Emma doesn’t even know about the blow or any of the other stuff I messed around with. But I didn’t expect her to get pregnant. Otherwise…I don’t know man. The doctor said Emma did everything right; what if it was me, Marcus? All the pot and alcohol probably messed up my semen’s pH levels or sugar content or something.”
“Come on, Andrew. Hunter’s is genetic. There’s nothing you could’ve done. Now all you can do is take care of Jack and Emma. You know she can’t do it alone.”
The rest of the night was mainly spent reminiscing about college. That’s all Marcus really could do for Andrew, and it’s all Andrew really wanted.
“More coffee?”
The waitress’s voice startled Marcus, but he was grateful for the interruption. He did all he could for Andrew the night before. He hoped he had made a difference, but he didn’t want to think about it anymore.
“Sure. More coffee and the check, please.”
Denise Gregory has been a waitress at the Denny’s just off of Exit 2 in Waseca, Minnesota, for about five years. Denise is twice divorced and has never lived anywhere outside of a twenty mile radius, but she likes it that way. Long ago she lost track of how many jobs she’s had in and around Waseca, but they all feel the same anyhow. She’s been waiting tables since she graduated from high school. Interestingly enough, she graduated with a man named Richard Thomas, whose son Calvin was sitting across from Jamie Sterling at table 5 of section 4C on this particular June day. Denise didn’t especially care for Richard, however. He always seemed to try awfully hard to impress girls.
Sean and Cecilia were finishing with their meal, but they were anxious to get home. Sean was a little annoyed, and neither he nor Cecilia cared for places like Denny’s anyhow.
Cecilia and Sean are actually distantly blood related, but they are unaware of the fact and it’s not a close enough relation to be anything other than noteworthy. Technically, Cecilia’s great aunt is Sean’s father’s third cousin once removed. In fact, they both attended the same family reunion once fourteen years before they married.
On the day of Sean and Cecilia’s wedding, Cecilia’s great aunt said to her, “You know, I believe one of my cousins told me a grandchild of theirs was getting married today as well.”
Although Sean and Cecilia’s relation is so distant that their marriage could hardly ever be considered incestuous, they both carry a recessive gene that is somewhat common in their family. The gene would cause a lysosomal disorder only in very rare instances, but because Sean and Cecilia both carry the gene, there is nearly a 100% chance that all of their potential children would inherit the disease. The disorder is known as Hunter Syndrome.
About an hour before Sean and Cecilia arrived at Denny’s that afternoon, Cecilia had discovered that she was pregnant.
By the time the beam of sunlight cutting through 4C had disappeared, the entire section was empty. Empty, that is, except for Denise, who was resting where Sean had been about five minutes earlier. She loved this time of day. It gave her a minute to get off her feet and have a cigarette in peace before the dinner rush. She always liked being assigned to the smoking section. She glanced over to where Jamie and Calvin had been sitting and saw that they had left a tip.
Hmm, she thought. Must have missed it when I cleared the table.
Denise walked over and pocketed the bill, which she assumed was only a dollar. It was actually a twenty.
Thirteen seconds later, Jamie turned to Calvin from the driver’s seat.
“Shit, Calvin. I think I left the waitress a twenty dollar tip by mistake.”
(it's about six people in the smoking section of a denny's, a genetic disorder, a couple of unfortunate coincidences, and a dumb girl's thoughts about semen.)