West of Omaha Sean pulled into a truck stop. Sunrose bleached the prairie. AK, Pam walked into the diner filled with sleepy truckers in desperate need of a lift stronger than coffee. None of the long-haulers commented about hippies. The drivers wore their hair long too. AK, Pam, and Sean sat at the counter and waited for the beleaguered waitress.
“Seems all this rednecks have eyes for Pam,” commented AK.
“Yeah, they ain’t seen anyone like you,” Sean complimented the blonde nursing student, who resembled a runaway Lolita past her teen years.
AK read the menu, as if the pianist might chose a breakfast other than eggs over easy with bacon. Sean picked up a discarded Omaha World-Herald. Watergate dominated the headlines. The other big story was Patty Hearst on the run from the police. The SLA radical topped the FBI’s Most Wanted List.
Several truckers held the same newspapers in their hands, then studied her with an interest greater than sex.
Pam was nervous about the undivided attention.
“They stare at me, as if they haven’t ever seen a woman in their life.
“They might have another reason.” Sean tapped Patty Hearst photo.
“They think I look like her?”
“Yes.”
“I look nothing like her.”
“I agree, but Mr. Hearst has offered $50,000 for his daughter’s return.” The SLA had demanded $100, 000, but her father offered less. The SLA had the Oakland Black Panthers buy food to distribute to the People.
“If she’s Tanya, then they must think that we’re SLA.” The heiress had betrayed her class. Tanya was a goddess of the revolution. You think any of these cowboys have a gun?”
“All of them.”
Two men glared, as if they had robbed the Hibernia Bank in California.
“Let’s get out of here,” Pam folded the menu.
“No, we stay or else some idiot will call the State Police for the reward.” Sean waved to the middle-aged waitress.
“What’s up?”
Her nametag said ‘Helen’.
“That’s my aunt’s name.”
“How nice. You ready to order?” She posed a pencil over her pad.
“Yes, Helen, but we have a small problem.”
“I hope that it isn’t a vegetarian thing, because this diner serves bacon, ham, and steak with breakfasts.” She planted both hands on her ample hips.
“No, we love bacon.” AK reversed the newspaper. “But a few of your customers might think that our lady friend here is Patty Hearst.”
“Patty Hearst?” the waitress gasped, then her eyes flitted between the picture and Pam two times before chuckling, “These boys are as dumb as a cow tied to a post. You’re much prettier than that poor rich girl. Let me handle this.”
“Thanks.”
The waitress turned to her weary customers.
“You idiots keep your eyes on your food. This pretty girl ain’t no Patty Hearst. She’s plain people, so get back to your grits and eggs.”
“How can you be sure?” a fat man asked from the back of the diner.
“Jack, you want extra coffee or a check?”
“Extra coffee.” Jack lowered his head.
“That should take care of them. What will you kids have?” The waitress had enjoyed her tirade.
“Bacon, eggs over-easy, home-fries, toast and OJ.” Pam smiled with the delight in another woman’s power over men.
“Make it two.” Sean loved breakfast in America.
“Three.” AK added his order, which Helen gave to the short-order cook.
Thirty minutes later they exited from the diner. A young black attendant was filling the tank of a state trooper’s cruiser. The officer’s gaze tracked Pam to the station wagon, then tipped his hat. To him the blonde was just another beautiful hippie girl on the way to the coast.
The three of them stood by the station, basking in a warm dawn breeze.
“You smelled that?” Sean breathed the scent of a continent’s center.
“It’s almost the West.”
“By the end of the day we should see the Rockies.”
“The miles keep piling up.”
“Even faster if you let Tanya drive.” Pam sat behind the wheel. Sean in the front and AK in the back. The station wagon had a high performance and powered out of the truck stop like revolutionaries on the lam and Pam drove fast as Tanya, because California and the revolution was only two days away.
Exceer[t froom my unpublsihed novel BACK AND FORTH