Chapter 4 - The Ambush at Booth Four
The blinding glare of the professional ring light cut through the dim interior of the diner, casting harsh, stark shadows across the peeling vintage wallpaper. Toby squinted against the sudden brightness, instinctively stepping back and bumping into Martha’s knees. The young man in the neon-yellow hoodie adjusted a heavy boom microphone overhead, pointing the foam-covered tip directly toward Martha’s face.
“Live from Maplewood Diner, folks!” the man announced with an exaggerated, booming radio voice that made the salt shakers on the counter rattle. “We have the viral grandmama and her brave little defender right here in the flesh! Tell us, ma’am, how does it feel to know that thousands of strangers care more about your empty stomach than the local grocery store prices?”
Martha flinched visibly at the intrusion, her frail body trembling beneath her patterned top. She gripped Toby’s hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her breathing coming in short, shallow gasps.
“Please,” Martha whispered, turning her face away from the blinding ring light. “We just wanted a quiet bowl of soup. Leave us alone.”
“Oh, she’s shy!” the streamer laughed loudly, turning to look directly into Brenda’s smartphone camera. “The internet loves a humble queen! Folks, drop fifty more super-chats right now, and we’ll upgrade this soup to a full three-course meal delivered straight to their rundown apartment across town!”
Toby felt a hot rage building deep inside his chest, burning away any remaining fear. He let go of Martha’s hand, stepped directly up to the tall streamer, and planted his small fists firmly on his hips.
“Stop it!” Toby shouted, his voice cracking with righteous fury. “You have no right to film us! We told you to leave us alone! Give me that phone!”
Toby lunged forward, his small fingers grazing the plastic edge of the smartphone mounted on the tripod before Brenda violently shoved him backward. Toby lost his footing on the slick linoleum floor, stumbling hard against the wooden counter and scraping his elbow against the sharp corner of the cash register. A dull, throbbing pain flared up his arm, but he didn’t cry out.
Martha let out a sharp gasp of horror, dropping to her knees with surprising speed despite her aching joints. She pulled Toby into her arms, pressing his face against her chest, shielding him from the cameras, the lights, and the mocking laughter of the streamer.
“Don’t you ever touch my grandson!” Martha cried out, her voice cracking with a fierce, maternal wrath that silenced the entire diner instantly. “Have you people no human decency left in your souls?”
Brenda smirked, nonchalantly adjusting her maroon collar while keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her phone screen, where viewer counts were currently peaking at over forty thousand concurrent streams.
“Relax, grandma, you just made us trending topic number one in the state,” Brenda said coldly. “You should be thanking us for the exposure.”
May you like
As the camera zoomed in tight on Martha’s tear-streaked face and Toby’s scraped elbow, the diner’s back office door slowly creaked open, and the shadowy figure of the diner’s elusive owner stepped out into the harsh light.
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