'THE DESERT DINER' (Survivor Challenge 13)

Needing to make a new start, I decided to move from West Virginia to Arizona. The contrast between mountains and four seasons and the desert, arroyos and mesas was very enticing. Hoping to land a job in Phoenix, I applied for a job as a journalist for the Phoenix Tribune. The drive cross-country would do me a lot of good, having had a year of endless stress. I packed up my Jeep Cherokee and headed out west on an early morning in June. I planned to take my time, stopping to see the sights along the way. Arriving in Arizona near sunset, I was consumed with the pungent odor of saps and plant juices concentrated by a life with little water. A harsh, yet majestic land stretched before my eyes. The rock formations, the dust and the magenta sky captured my heart. I had heard of ghost towns and the strange electromagnetic energies of the region, an elusiveness of sorts, providing an elixir to the imagination. Never giving much thought before, I now felt eeriness. My eeriness was compounded as the sky darkened. I was now on a stretch of highway, no other cars in sight. What a relief to remember I had my cell phone! Suddenly, I heard faint rumblings. Now, I am no meteorological prowess, but I do know that rain is rare in the desert. The rumbles intensified and drops of rain began dripping on my windshield. A tentative beginning, segueing into a thoroughly soaked stoic, I am speechless to say the least. Not being able to see further than three feet ahead, my heart is racing in total disbelief. If the rain wasn’t bad enough, my Jeep Cherokee started talking. Not a conversation that I was about to enjoy. Putt, putt, clang, bam!!! Oh, no. Not a breakdown on this isolated stretch. Sure enough the Jeep died. I reached for my cell phone, the only hope I clung onto to reach civilization. The cell phone was dead. How could it be? A fully charged phone and a brand new Jeep are both dead in the middle of nowhere. I waited over an hour to see if any cars would come through. No one came. I knew the only way of getting help was to walk to the nearest phone.  God only knows how far that might be. Over a mile of walking in drenching rain, I spot a light ahead. I saw a sign that said “Desert Diner”. Could it possibly be open at 3:00am? Oh, I sure hope so. I approach the diner, but there are no windows. No people are visible from the outside. Please God, I prayed, let there be someone inside. My heart was pounding as I turned the doorknob. Whew! It opens to a room where a few people are dining and chatting. I am not sure what came over me, but it felt like a strange aura. I went to the counter to ask an elderly lady if I could use the phone. There was such a strange look in her eyes, a piercing gaze. She was polite enough, but very eerie. I called the auto club and they said they would send a tow truck to pick up my Jeep and a representative to pick me up and take me into town. Meanwhile, I sat at the table and ordered a cup of coffee to warm me from the wetness of my clothes. The whole diner had a delightful fragrance of fresh-brewed coffee, almost spellbinding. While sipping the fresh brew, I looked around at the other customers. Still, I felt a strange presence, as if I were in a surreal happening. One man in particular caught my eye. He looked so familiar in an obscure way. The more I looked, the more I knew I had seen him before. I almost choked on my last sip of coffee when I realized this man looked like Carlos Velasco. I had read about him many years ago. He was a Sonoran state senator and judge. He also operated a general store, a Spanish language newspaper and was owner of the Velasco House, where he set up his newspaper. The Velasco House was located on South Stone Avenue in Tucson’s Old Pueblo. He lived there from 1878 until his death in 1914. After his death the house was abandoned and dilapidated. New owners took over and did extensive remodeling. After the renovations there were reports of a ghost, many thought to be Velasco. I had never believed in ghosts, but now I wasn’t too sure. This was just too strange for my mountain blood. I became entranced with this man and decided to try to strike up a conversation. He walked towards the counter and off I went. I dropped my purse intentionally, hoping it would get his attention. He picked it up and handed it to me. I graciously thanked him, but fell upon muted lips. His eyes were deep and piercing. I felt chills go down my spine. He walked away back to his table. Finally the auto club rep arrived to take me into town. Although my mind could not escape what had happened at the diner, I was exhausted and fell asleep after a warm bubble bath. I stayed at a lovely hotel in Phoenix. Since my job interview wasn’t for a couple more days, I decided to call my friend Alex whom I had known for many years, but hadn’t seen for a long time. He was very excited to hear from me and we made plans for a movie and dinner that very evening. After dinner, Alex suggested a nice drive through the desert. I couldn’t believe he chose the long stretch of road that I had been on just the night before. I was apprehensive, yet somewhat excited to see the diner in the light of day. The evening was hot, but comfortable with a gentle breeze. We passed many road signs that I remembered seeing. I knew that we weren’t far from the diner. I told Alex about my experience. As we were getting nearer to the diner, we both were overwhelmed with a strange presence. We pulled into the parking lot. There were no cars and oh my there was no diner. I was positive that this is where the Desert Diner was. What is happening? Could the tales of ghosts and electromagnetic energies be true? I gasped at the mere thought, but could not prove what I had experienced. At least Alex believed me. We left and headed on back to my apartment. The night brought up so many unanswered questions. My life would never be quite the same. Good fortune came my way by landing the job at the Tribune. I found a beautiful apartment and loved my new life. Every now and then, I still drive down that same stretch of road to see if the Desert Diner exists. It is still invisible to my naked eye. A dream? Could it have been a metaphysical experience? I can only guess.Challenge description: You have broken down alongside the highway its dark outside, its raining so hard you cant see 3 feet in front of you you are soaked to the bone and have walked over a mile to get to a phone the only place open is an old diner its 3am, you are in the middle of nowhere you open the door and step inside out of the rain what do you see ? Take it from there...and here is what I came up with... Written April 11th, 2002 © on Apr 11 2002 11:32 AM PST, Kathy D   0 • 18 • 10