Do You Want Fries With That

Do You Want Fries With That

A Chapter by Cherrie Palmer
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one more to go

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I ended up in the McDonald’s parking lot. The eleven miles it took me to get here completely uneventful unless you count the adrenaline racing up and down my central nerves system. Raw energy, lapping my train of thought like the lead car in the Winston Cup race.  I felt out of pocket just sitting in the parking lot, so I hopped in the drive-thru and ordered myself a drink.

 
“A large Coke, please.”

 
“Would you like fries with that?” A boy that sounded twelve asked me.
 

“No, just the drink please.” I pulled forward without getting the amount due and handed him two dollars. Then I pulled to the next window without my change. I just met a killer, waiting for my change did not occur to me. An irritated woman about my age, fifty and something handed me my drink. The drink overflowed a crossed her hand. The cup was sticky and sopping wet as it passed from her hand to mine.

 
“Napkin?” I asked her, now very much annoyed myself. I forced a smile and a thank you and headed for the road. That’s when I noticed the small revival sign next to the roadway. 


 [Revival 6:00 pm 1 Block North]


I drove right to the tent. My watch read 16:20 and not a soul in sight. With no plan in my head, I parked the car and entered the tent. It had a makeshift stage. A single microphone stood in the middle with one folding chair next to it. There seemed to be enough benches for thirty or so. Still, on autopilot, I walked on the stage and sit in the chair.

 

“Hello, Lord can you hear me?” My upward gaze had me pondering His throne. “I really need to talk to you, about Mercy.” I scanned the tent and wondered if this would anger the angel. “Lord, I want to do right and help this family. But, I’m no ‘Nancy Drew’. Please, Lord, I need your help.” 


It was then I noticed the woman placing hymnals on the benches. She blushed when I saw her watching me. Awkwardly I stood. “I’m so sorry.”

“Who’s, Mercy? You talked like Mercy is a who and not a what.” The young woman asked.

I ran through the different answers I could give her and went with answer a.) the truth.

“Mercy is a 10-foot angel. That wants me to stop a fire.”
 
Ha, I told someone is all I could think.
 
“O, yes, Mercy is so important. Life would be unbearable without Mercy.”

 With each word, she walked a little closer. Her eyes a soft jade and her hair such a warm silky red. I reached up and touched my own hair a mixture of grey and golden sunset (via Nice N easy). The woman smiled at me, and all my worries stopped. She wore a faded pink t-shirt that had the pink panther on it and 70’s disco jeans with a wide flare. 

I couldn’t stop smiling. “You know I had that exact outfit when I was fifteen.”
 
“1979, what a great year.” The young woman said. 
 
“Wow, what a great guess,” I said.
 
“God created humans for fellowship, but people are so easily distracted. He seldom can have a true relationship with anyone.” The young woman said her voice deep in southern charm. “The Father God must use Angels to deliver messages sometimes.”
 
“You seem very wise for one so young. My name is Libby. What’s yours?”
 
“I’m Grace.”
 
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Grace. I wish I could stay for the meeting, but I have something important I need to do.”

“Yes, sometimes the important things in life cannot be put off and sometimes there is no one to do these important tasks.”
 
“I guess that’s true. Talking to you has made me feel so much better.” A truck slammed on his breaks hitting the car in front of him at a stoplight. We both turned to see what happened.
 
“Crazy drivers,” I said, and when I turned to continue talking to Grace, I found she was gone. I wasn’t startled or afraid. Her words helped me. “Mercy, I’m ready.” Is all I said, and I knew I needed to head back to the house on 11th street.




© 2019 Cherrie Palmer


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I hate short chapters heavy sigh, that being said it was still awesome wanting me to move on to the next one

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 5 Months Ago


I read your story twice & came away not feeling sure about what the ending means & yet I very much enjoy your snappy sassy storytelling thru-out. I’m not sure a story like this has a definite meaning & maybe it’s just meant for entertainment, becuz it’s an entertaining read for sure. Libby says the other woman is so young, but earlier, you say the women are the same age. That seems like an incongruous set of details, but it might be intentional since this story isn’t completely linear to me. All in all, your ability to observe people & convey these interesting details keeps your writing fresh (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 1 Year Ago


Cherrie Palmer

1 Year Ago

I 'll work on that our McDonald's has two windows one you pay at and the other gives you your food.

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Added on April 6, 2018
Last Updated on May 12, 2019


Author

Cherrie Palmer
Cherrie Palmer

Oakland, AR



About
I am a published poet and love poetry. My husband and I live near the White River, and love trout fishing. I find my surroundings a great inspiration to me. I also have two books on Amazon Kindle: O.. more..

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