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“Just plain.”
Marge looks to Josh. “Your turn, handsome.”
“What’s your blue-plate special?” he asks, still studying the menu.
“Salisbury steak,” Marge says.
Josh hands her the menu. “Sounds good.”
“Sure thing, sugar,” Marge says before departing with a wink.
She disappears through a swinging door with a circular window located at the rear of the diner. Through the window, Charlie can see Marge’s high hair bobbing as she gives their order to the invisible cook.
It’s just her and Josh now, alone again.
“This place needs some music,” Josh says as he slides from the booth and walks to the jukebox. It’s old and bulky, like the one inHappy Days. Josh drops in a couple of quarters and makes his selections.
First up is Don McLean.
“American Pie.”
When he returns to the booth, Charlie knows it’s time to move.She had a plan. She needs to make it happen. Grabbing her backpack, she gestures to the pay phone outside the window.
“I’m going to call my boyfriend real quick,” she says. “He asked me to check in from the road. Be right back.”
She slides out of the booth and heads to the door, forcing herself to go slow and not appear too eager. Josh is watching her. She knows that. He’s been doing it all night. Watching her even when it looks like he’s not. It’s how he’s been able to predict her every move.
But that’ll be ending very soon.
Now, she’s about to get away.
EXT. DINER—NIGHT
Charlie corrects herself as soon as she gets outside.
She’s not about to get away. She’s already gone. Out the door and walking to the pay phone. All that’s left to do is call the police, tell them to hurry, and then wait outside the few minutes it takes for them to arrive.
Charlie rounds the corner of the diner and stops in front of the pay phone. Josh sits just on the other side of the window, sipping his coffee, not even looking her way.
Good.
She lifts the receiver from its cradle, bringing the steady hum of a dial tone to her ears. Then she pauses, unsure what to do next. She’s never called 911 on a pay phone before. Does she need to insert coins? Does she press 0 for the operator? Or does she just dial 911 and hope someone will answer?
With the dial tone still buzzing insistently, she opts for the latter.
She presses 9.
She presses 1.
She presses 1 a second time, shooting a nervous glance at the window.
The booth is empty.
Josh is no longer there.
Charlie’s heart stops at the same time the receiver lets out a light click. A 911 dispatcher answering her call. But to Charlie, it’s the sound of fear taking her in its grip.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” the dispatcher says.