“Hey, man,” he said, getting off his stool. “I thought no one was going to come in today. Except maybe the holdup guy. You know three convenience stores have been held up in this area?”

“I read that in the county paper. I’d be surprised if the holdup man came in here. Not enough business.”

“That’s for damn sure. Some days I’m fairly busy, but today I haven’t seen anyone since Olivia gassed up early this morning. If I have to do this job much longer, I’m going to go crazy.”

“Any end in sight?”

“Yes, praise God and hallelujah.”

Though Joe could tell Teacher didn’t really mean those words, it felt good to hear them. “So you heard from headquarters?”

“Yeah, man, finally! There’s a guy who’s interested in taking it over. They’re reviewing his background. If his financials and everything else check out, he could be moving in next month.”

“He would live in the same house that the Lovells had?”

Teacher shrugged. “I guess. I don’t care where he lives, as long as he takes this place over soon.”

“You didn’t have to take it on,” Joe said mildly.

“But the money was so good.” Teacher looked rueful. “Pays well enough to where I didn’t feel like I could turn it down, with Madonna and Grady to feed.”

“I think Madonna takes care of the feeding,” Joe said.

Teacher laughed. “I don’t hear you tell a lot of jokes, Joe,” he said.

“Not a funny world,” Joe said, after he’d thought about Teacher’s statement. “Have you felt a little strange today?”

“Strange? How? Naw, I feel bored, and I feel restless, but I don’t feel strange.” Teacher looked from side to side, as if he might spot something odd creeping between the bags of potato chips and the dishwashing liquid. The fluorescent light in the store bounced off Teacher’s dark skin, giving him shadows where there should have been none. “You feel strange? Like, weird?”

“Yes,” said Joe. “I do.”

“Does that mean something? I never would have asked that before we moved here.”

“Why did you move here?” This was not a question you should ask in Midnight, but Joe had a great suspicion that the Reeds were not truly Midnighters.

“Well . . .” Teacher floundered. “The café was open to rent, Madonna thought she could run a place so small, and the man who sold it to us threw in the trailer. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in the house on the other side of the Rev’s, that’s the house we could’ve taken, but it’s in terrible shape. Madonna said it was bad enough me going out to work every day to fix other people’s houses, she didn’t want me coming home to work there, too. The trailer is in great shape.”

This was too much explanation, and Joe felt sad. Madonna was truly a gifted cook, Grady was a charmer, and Teacher was literally a handy man to have around. He could fix almost anything. But Joe felt sure that the Reeds would not stay.

“I understand,” Joe said. “Stay well, Teacher. I hope you get your replacement soon.”

“See you, Joe,” Teacher said. There was a definite guarded tone to his voice.

The last family who’d worked at Gas N Go hadn’t worked out, either. Joe hadn’t wondered at all (at the time) why the Reeds hadn’t been summoned to the little meeting that presaged the Lovells’ departure. He’d simply accepted it. But now he knew. As he returned to his shop, he wondered if there was some kind of curse on Gas N Go. He turned back to look at it in the magical spectrum. There was a smudge of sadness around the building but nothing permanent. He could hope that the next manager would be someone who fit into the town perfectly.

There was no point going over to talk with Lenore and Harvey Whitefield. There was nothing extranormal about them, and Joe had found he didn’t even particularly like them. He knew that Mamie and Shorty were in the hotel, and he knew that they were both napping, and he knew that Mamie was very close to passing through the veil. He could also tell that two other people staying at the hotel (both doing contract work at Magic Portal) were both away for the day.

As uneasy as he felt, he hoped they’d stay away until late in the night. Or maybe they’d find someone to spend the night with, someone fun, and by the time they returned to the Midnight Hotel, whatever was going to happen—tonight, tomorrow night, soon—would all be done.

He could hope.

24

Olivia made it through lunch at the Cracker Barrel by the skin of her teeth. She hated the merchandise room, she hated the false harking back to a re-created past reflected in the wall decor, and she hated Barry and Manfred because they were oblivious to the fluffy sweatshirts and silly souvenirs and the faux farm implements. They simply enjoyed the food, as Suzie and Tommy did. Their waitress looked exhausted but kept smiling, and Barry told Olivia that the woman was a single mother and had two jobs to keep afloat.

“I don’t want to be obliged to pity my server,” Olivia snapped.

Barry turned his attention back to his menu pointedly. “Then don’t. I just didn’t want you to jump down her throat because she was slow bringing your coffee.”

“So you go around being Mr. Compassionate?” Her voice was low but sharp.

He flinched. “No,” he confessed. “Not always.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”