I woke up at six a.m. It was still dark outside. I went across to the square and muscled the dead Santa into the dumpster. I couldn’t leave it lying around. That wouldn’t help. There were lights in Earl’s café. He was making breakfast. I needed some. The rest of the town was asleep.
8 Minutes to Sunday, Episode One
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The pancakes at Earl’s are the lightest I’ve ever eaten. I had six. I ate four pieces of bacon and drank about a half pot of coffee. I sat studying the photo. Trying to figure my next move. In the background, between me and the Mrs. If that’s who this was, was a chapel. I’d seen the steeple before. But, I had no idea where.
I finished my breakfast and went across to the City Jail. I ran the photo through the flatbed scanner. I opened Sheriff Crawford’s old laptop. Mine now I guessed. He didn’t need it much where he was. I put the picture through Google image search.
I got two possible hits. I looked them up. One was in Canada. The other was in a little mountain town near Heavener Oklahoma. It was on the other side of the state, but within driving distance. Maybe they would know something at the chapel. It might get me closer to my identity.
I ordered a breakfast to go and walked the six blocks to Leeanne’s. I knocked. She answered the door, opened it and walked back toward the kitchen. I went in. I brought the breakfast and a big Styrofoam cup of coffee. I set it on the kitchen table.
“The pancakes are really good,” I said.
“Yeah, I know, I grew up here,” she said.
“I’m really sorry about last night,” I said.
“Which part?” she asked.
I thought about it.
“Well, I’d say the Santa. But that was too damn funny. And worth every penny. Do you think we could get Gene to do that every year?” I asked.
She laughed.
“I hate you Dalton West,” she said.
I stayed quiet. I was learning. Sometimes Leeanne had to think out loud. Like now.
“You made me love you, just by being you. Now,” she said.
She screwed up her eyes and tears came down her face, quietly. Like she was giving up.
“Now this, and I’m going to lose you to someone you can’t even remember,” she said.
“You don’t know that, Leeanne,” I said.
“Well, one thing’s for sure. You have to find out,” she said.
“Yeah, yeah, I get that, it’s just,” I said.
I paused, I didn’t want to cry.
“I’m afraid of what I’m going to find out,” I said.
“What do you mean,” she asked.
“I think she’s dead,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Why? You didn’t do it,” I said.
“No, for the way I reacted last night. You warned me, and you reminded me, but dammit Dalton, I’m in love with you!” she said.
I smiled. I had a lump in my throat.
“Found something,” I said.
“What?” she asked.
I put a print out on the table. It showed the wedding chapel, in White Wood Oklahoma.
“This is the place,” I said. “From the picture.”
She smiled. “Well, good for you, Dalton,” she said. “I mean it. I decided when you told me your story, I was going to be happy for you when you found out who you are, no matter what.”
I didn’t answer her.
“What’s wrong, Dalton?” she asked.
“I’m scared, of what I’ll find,” he said.
“Look, if you picked her, I’m sure she’s amazing, because you’re amazing,” Leeanne said.
She patted my hand.
I told her about my dream.
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