CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Cindy just poured a second cup of coffee for Buddy, who was at his usual spot at the counter, when Miss Stella came into the diner. Miss Stella enjoyed her daily afternoon visit to the Bozeman Café. Cindy kept a special order of herbal tea just for her.
“Well, good afternoon. I’ll set the kettle on for ya.” Cindy said as Miss Stella approached the two.
Buddy and Stella were friendly, but not close. He enjoyed yanking her chain from time-to-time concerning her so-called special gift. “Why Miss Stella, it’s so nice to see you again.”
Miss Stella was a very patient person and knew all too well how Buddy liked to play his little sarcastic mind games. “It’s nice to see you too.”
Buddy turned his head toward Cindy and gave a little wink. He then turned to face Stella and held out his right hand with the palm turned up. “Do you read palms Miss Stella?”
“Now Buddy, you know very well I don’t read palms.” She said ever so politely.
Buddy looked at Cindy with a big smile showing his yellow stained teeth. He winked again as Cindy shook her head at his antics.
Miss Stella startled Buddy when she reached out and cupped his right hand between her hands. His head snapped back as he looked at her face. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath and slowly released it. Her voice was low and steady, “I see you standing in a golden field of wheat with the sun upon your face. Yet, coming toward you I see a storm moving very fast. You turn to run for cover, but it is too late, the dark swirling storm overtakes you. It wants you to feel its anger.” As she opened her eyes she let go of his hand.
Buddy glanced at Cindy, then back to Stella. “And just what is that gibberish supposed to mean, may I ask?”
“Some of the messages I receive are just symbolic; but if you would like more information you might stop by tomorrow and I’d be glad to see what more we can get from my crystal-ball.” She looked at Cindy and gave her own wink.
Buddy rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I know this little game. I pay you, what do you call it…a love donation and my dead grandma comes and tells me I’m…”
Buddy flinched as Cindy leaned over the counter and smacked him on the shoulder. “Dag-nab-it Buddy Wilson, don’t you dare make fun of Miss Stella’s gift!” She barked.
He was in hog heaven; so pleased he’d gotten such a rile out of them, or so he thought. Miss Stella simply pointed toward her favorite table in the back corner as Cindy nodded, “I’ll bring your tea right out dear.”
“Finish your coffee and then it’s time to go smartass.” Cindy said pointing her finger right at his nose.
Buddy gave her a mock ‘yes ma’am’ as he left his ten-cents on the counter and strolled out not looking back toward Miss Stella, yet he was grinning from ear-to-ear.