Pleasant Coffee

"Would you like a cup of pleasant coffee? It's very nice... That'll be one fifty."

As I sat in this diner, just off of route 66, a strange little man was serving me

a strange brand of coffee that I'd never heard of. I sat there, slowly sipping

on this mug of brew. It had a smooth texture, and a nice little zip to it. I had

quite a few hundred miles to go before I hit my destination, so stopping for

coffee seemed like the natural thing to do at five in the morning. I stared into my half empty cup o' joe, and was thinking about the journey

ahead, when the strange little man initiated in conversation with me.

"You know, I used to have an uncle who drank this stuff all the time. He used

to drink a cup of it every day, it used to refresh him so.."

"Come to think of it, a lot o' people in my hometown used to drink this stuff."

I looked up at him, he looked pleased with himself. Almost happy, but not yet

fully content. An expression I've never seen on a person before. Trying not to

appear rude, I spoke up to him,

"..Tell me more about your hometown then."

"My hometown? Well, it's not a very well known community. Pleasant

Springs, Illinois.. They used to grow coffee beans there, and that's where the

name of this coffee comes from.."

He chuckled to himself lightly, but in an almost cartoon-like way..

"I haven't been back there in half a decade! I should go back someday and

see how things have come along..."

I suddenly felt a trembling from within me. My stomach felt asthough it were

on fire. I didn't know whether it was the coffee which didn't agree with me,

or because I hadn't eaten in a while, or that this man had poisoned me...

No.. It couldn't be poisoned, this was just some sort of coincidence.

"You look a little shaky there pal.. Here, have another cup of coffee, on the

house.."

Yes. It was definitely poisoned. The way this man stared at me intently. The

way I felt like I was burning inside. The way he was then offering me cups of

coffee for free. But then again, he could've just been a nice guy trying to help

me. I held my stomach, and said,

"Perhaps could I get some water instead?"

"Oh sure. I'll go get you some."

He walked slowly over to the sink, and turned the valve slowly. Nothing came

out of the tap, and he walked nonchalantly back over to the counter.

"Sorry, our sink appears to be out of order. Would you like some bottled

water instead?"

I, busy contemplating what to do at the time, blurted out in the heat and

confusion of the pain mixed with my own paranoia,

"Yes, sure, how much?"

"On the house, friend"

He smiled an unsettling smile. He slowly walked through the back door and

within a split second he came back out again, this time looking more pleased

with himself, and with the bottle of water in hand. I accepted it hastily,

unscrewed the lid, and drank about a quarter of it down. I felt the pain

disspate, and I felt better.

"Thanks" I said, not feeling as creeped out.

"Oh, it's nothing.. I'm happy to help.."

When I say, not feeling as creeped out, I don't mean I felt entirely

comfortable being here. I sat there, taking a few breaths, counting them in

my head. All of a sudden, the pain reemerged, this time stronger and more

intense than the last time. I writhed on the diner stool, trying to look normal

yet failing.

Maybe I just needed more water.. I went to drink a bit more from the bottle

when suddenly, I read the label.

Pleasant Water.

This was weird. This was strange. This was unnerving. I stood up from my

stool, and backed away to the door, shoving the bottle into my jacket pocket.

"What's the matter? Where are you going?"

He cocked his head slightly, having a mildly aggressive tone. I opened the

door, keeping my eyes trained upon the man.

"Come back."

He had an expression of sadness, falsely etched onto his face. His voice

imploring me to come back and sit. I was not prepared to do that. But what I

was prepared to do, was run to my car and get the hell out of there.

I ran as fast as I could over to my car, fumbling for the key to get in. I

unlocked the door and got inside. As I tried to start the car, the man came

outside, his head cocked to the side. His face almost questioning why I was

leaving in such a hurry. I managed to start the car up, and drove away.

The nightmare was over, except for one thing. The bastard had slashed my

tires..

I was swerving across the road, slowing to a stop. I got out of my car and

looked in the back of the car. All I had was one spare tire and a tire iron.. One spare tire wasn't going to be enough, so all I could use was the tire iron.

I shoved it into the back of my trousers, and I walked away from the

direction of the diner. I had been walking for a couple hours. I'd maybe

walked about 6 miles, and I had felt tired. I heard a noise, it was coming

from the road, and it was coming from the direction of the diner.

I was ready.

I waited at the side of the road to see who it was, maybe they could give me

a lift. If it was the man, I was prepared to defend myself.

Off in the distance I saw a mini convertible driving towards me. I stuck out

my thumb, hoping that it would be someone good, and not some psychopath

trying to kill me.

The driver halted to a stop, and smiled at me. It was an old man wearing a

suit and tie, along with an old fedora hat.

"Where ya headed stranger?"

I bent down to look at them through the car window, and said

"I've been running away from some psychopath! Back about several miles

there's a diner with a madman running it. He tried to kill me!"

He lifted his brow and invited me into his car. He started driving again, and

said

"I've just come from that diner.. The guy running it seemed perfectly fine to

me."

I implored him,

"Please, just drive to the nearest town with a police station in it!"

"Alright, calm down son. There ain't nothin to be afraid of now. There's a

town about 20 miles ahead, I'll drop you off at the police station once we get

there."

We sat there quietly. The long slow hum of the motor, mixed with the

rumbling of the tires on the old unkempt road calmed me. It would've sent

me to sleep if I wasn't aware of my situation. I looked around at my

surroundings, the car was filled with bits of old junk that the elderly usually

keep in their car.

A few minutes later, I readjusted myself in my seat. I stretched my legs and

my back and settled back onto the chair, I looked into the rearview mirror,

and that's when I saw something I had never anticipated.

The man was in the back seat, sitting up, and grinning.

I froze, too scared to say anything, in fear of what he might do to me or the

driver. The old man changed gear and looked into his rearview mirror.

The old man smiled, and said

"Heya Jim! This the guy you were talkin' about?"

The man stared at me through the rearview mirror.

"Yes, thank you for helping me find him. You, I never got your name.. What

is it?"

I was frozen. I could not speak, move, not even blink.

"No matter, I just wanted to let you know, you didn't pay your tab for the first

coffee you bought."

...

"That'll be one fifty..."

That's when I blacked out.

I woke up in my car. I opened the door, and checked everything. The tires

were not slashed, I didn't feel sick or in pain anymore, and everything was

fine..

I must've stopped to rest my eyes and dreamt all of it. Funny how

nightmares can relate to the subconcious fears of what you're doing.

Smiling to myself in relief, I felt my jacket for my keys and I felt something in

the pocket of my keys. It was badly torn bit of paper, it felt dried out, as

though it had been wet previously. I pulled it out, and in the darkness I read

out the words:

Pleasant Water