1 year ago from the present day...

Mitchell and Carol Boykins drove their Chevy hybrid at the posted speed limit on the empty Indiana highway. It was the middle of June, and the grass was a vibrant green, along with clumps of trees they saw in the distance. Nothing was around except for flatlands.

Mitchell was a tall, scrawny guy with a stylish haircut, big plastic frame glasses, and he always wore a button-up shirt that fit him a little tight. His jeans had a similar tightness.

“It’s so crazy to me that you’ve never been to a big city,” Carol said from the passenger seat. Carol was a year younger than Mitchell. She wore a bright blue floral dress purchased from a vintage shop the week before. Her hair was long, but she had bangs that neatly covered her forehead. The large plastic frame glasses looked similar to Mitchell’s, but hers had a vintage cat-eye shape.

“Hey hey hey, I’ve been to Arlington, Chesapeake, and Virginia Beach.” Mitchell smirked.

“Our state doesn’t count.”

“Well, we went to Honolulu for our honeymoon. That’s a pretty large city.”

“I mean, you’ve never been to New York or Chicago.”

“I don’t know if it counts for you either. You went to New York when you were like 10 years old. You barely remember it.”

“That’s not entirely true. I remember how amazing it felt taking the Staten Island ferry and seeing the whole city in front of you. And then the excitement of the subways and all the lights in times square, I’ll never forget those moments. Now that I’m thinking about it, I wish we were able to go there.”

“No matter what, I’m excited about Chicago. At least we have friends there we can visit.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic for Chicago, but I do want to take you to New York someday.”

“Yeah, I’m all for that.” Mitchell looked at Carol and smiled before focusing his attention on the road. His stomach grumbled like an irritated old man. “So, do you have any thoughts on where you’d want to go to dinner? I was thinking something fast. Chipotle or Qdoba both sound good to me.”

Carol winced. “Yeah, those places are fine and all, and I like them, but I’m in a mood.”

Mitchell exhaled, but the corner of his lip curled up. “Uh-huh, and what’s your mood?”

“I want something that looks like a diner in an airstream. You know what I’m talking about? Those trailers that look like they’re made of stainless steel, and they’re a diner with all sorts of kitschy collectibles and a 1950s theme?”

“I can picture it clearly,” Mitchell said with a hint of annoyance.

“I want to go to a place like that. That would be so fun, and it would be even better if it was in some small little town with a unique charm only found in less populated Americana. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, but who knows when’s the next time we might find a restaurant like that. We could be on the road for hours until we find something exactly like your description. Can we just settle for a diner nearby?”

“You must be pretty hungry, huh?” Carol looked up at Mitchell from over her glasses.

“Did you not hear my stomach growling just a moment ago?”

“I’m just curious! That’s all. What’s the max amount of time you’re willing to wait?”

Mitchell’s head bobbed from side to side as he thought about it. “No longer than 30 minutes. I’ve been a little hungry for a while now.”

“Okay! I’ll be quick. I’ll settle for a diner, but you bet your ass I’m looking for a stainless steel 1950s nightmare.” Carol winked and buried her head in her phone, swiping madly through search results. “Oh my God! I think we hit the jackpot! 20 minutes away, a little town called Wilton, Indiana, has exactly what we need. This place is called Buckwheat’s!”

“Can you settle down? You’re yelling in my ear,” Mitchell said but laughed about it.

“Look at this place! Look at this place!” Carol held her phone in front of Mitchell’s face while driving.

His eyes quickly flicked from the road to the screen. He spotted sections of silver steel, a green neon sign up top with the name of the restaurant, and then a clock above it. Above the clock was another sign, white letters with a red background. “Open 24 hours!”

“That looks like what you want.” Mitchell smiled. “Could you put it in the GPS, please?”

“Already on it!” Carol had the phone in hand and adjusted the directions from Chicago to Buckwheat’s. They were only 19 minutes away.

As Mitchell continued driving, Carol looked through all of the photos of the restaurant and read through the menu. She smiled from ear to ear.

Arriving at the restaurant, they parked in front of the Buckwheat’s lot and approached the main entrance. Before walking inside, Carol turned around. The sun was making progress down the horizon. It would be nighttime soon, and the golden landscape of Wilton captured Carol’s breath. A cute, small city with buildings made of brick, some painted with pastel colors, and a river running through the edge of the town. There appeared to be a train depot structure all the way at the other end of the main street, still in excellent condition. Exploring the curious town piqued Carol’s interest, capturing her imagination and running wild with it.

“Carol, are we going inside?” Mitchell asked as he held open the door to Buckwheat’s. An air-conditioned breeze came through the open entrance and hit the back of Carol’s neck.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Sorry about that, this little town is so beautiful.” Carol giggled to herself as the two of them walked inside. She was immediately impressed with the theme of Buckwheat’s. A long counter with stools made of shiny steel with a red cushioned cap. The floor had a checkerboard pattern, and there was a fake jukebox at the end of the restaurant, glowing with a rainbow of colors. Pictures of the 1950s festooned the walls, Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, automobiles, and vintage Coke and gasoline signs. Buckwheat’s smelled of a variety of other foods. Carol could see the cooks in the back taking tickets and preparing meals.

“Wow, this place is so perfect,” Carol whispered to Mitchell. “Where do you want to sit? Part of me wants to sit at the bar and get the full experience, but those booths look awfully cozy too. Perhaps the host will determine our fate.”

A server in a black t-shirt with Buckwheat’s written on the front approached them and smiled. “Sit wherever you’d like!”

“Well? Did you make up your mind?” Mitchell asked Carol playfully.

“Yeah, follow me.” Carol walked to the restaurant’s end and slid into the back booth. “There, that way we can look out the window and see this cute little downtown, but also I have the view of the entire restaurant to take it all in.” Carol beamed. “Sorry, I guess you don’t have a view of the restaurant unless you want to sit on my side?”

“That’s okay. As long as I’m sitting across from you, I have the best and most beautiful view of the whole place.” Mitchell’s lips curled up as he sat across from Carol.

Carol grinned. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

The same server came to their table and dropped off two menus. “Breakfast is served 24 hours, just so you know. Nothing on the menu is off-limits. By the way, I adore your glasses.”

Carol adjusted her frames. “Thank you so much! It totally fits the whole aesthetic here.”

“I know, how perfect. I haven’t seen you before. Are you two from around here?”

“No, we’re just passing by, but we might stick around and check out some of the other places. This is a wonderful little town you have here.”

“Yeah, it’s got everything you could want. That’s why I never had the urge to leave.”

“Any places you would recommend going to?”

“I mean, how much time do you have? There’s enough to do to take up an entire night until the late morning.”

“Well, we’re not in a hurry, but I can’t imagine us staying out all night.” Carol laughed.

“Not only that, I can’t imagine there’s that much to do. It looks like such a small town,” Mitchell said as he stared out the window. Analyzing what all could be done in a tiny downtown strip, he couldn’t think of anything that would hook him in for an entire night into the morning.

“There are some great bars, but there’s also a really great nightclub too,” the server said.

“What’s it called?” Carol asked.

“It’s one of my favorite places to go. It’s called Club Novus, but it’s a bit of a secret. You can’t find it online or any reviews on it.”

“That’s pretty weird.”

“Yeah, but I think they want it to feel like a rave. Like how there’s no official place, but they have parties in random abandoned buildings.”

“Oh, so it’s an underground thing? But it’s always at the same building here?”

“Yeah, they have it at the same building, but it’s an official business, so you won’t be busted for trespassing.”

“This is all very fascinating.”

“But if the club idea is in your scene, there’s another great bar called the Painted Goose, which I highly recommend.”

“I can’t imagine we’d be staying here very late. We’ll probably hit the road after dinner,” Mitchell butted in.

“There’s a great ice cream place too in the park along the river. So even if you want to get a dessert after you eat here and explore a little bit, that’s a popular spot.”

“Thank you so much for all of the ideas,” Carol said.

“Sorry, I’m probably talking your ear off. My manager tells me I do that sometimes, but a lot of locals come here, so it’s not every day you get someone from...?”

“Virginia,” Carol said.

“Wow, quite a ways away from home. Well, thank you for coming into our little diner here. I’ll let you two look at the menu, and I’ll be right back.” The server left their table.

“The Midwestern charm is a real thing. The people here are just lovely,” Carol said.

Mitchell was nose deep in the menu, analyzing every item, weighing options in his head. “Uh-huh,” he replied, unsure of what he responded to.

“What do you think, shall we stick around for ice cream?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I think I want to get back on the road after this. We were making pretty good time, and I wanted something quick for dinner, and this will probably take us a lot longer.”

“Yeah, but there’s no hurry to Chicago. It’s not like we have any plans the moment we get there. We’ve got plenty of time to kill.”

Mitchell sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’d just be sitting around at the Airbnb.”

“And did you see the map? There’s still a huge traffic jam in the Chicago area.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not wrong.” Mitchell nodded. “Let’s see how we feel after we eat. I’d be down to walk around, I think, maybe not ice cream, but we’ll see, I guess.”

“Ah, the server is already coming back our way, and I haven’t even thought of what I wanted.” Carol scanned the menu. “Okay, I got it now!”

The server came and jotted down their orders. “Okay, I’ll put that right in for you.”

“Oh, wait! I want to ask before I forget. What’s the tattoo on your arm?”

The server rolled up her sleeve, showcasing a brooding three-headed dog with a slight scowl. “It’s Cerberus from Greek mythology.”

“Wow, that’s a beautiful tattoo. I’ve been thinking about getting one forever, but I’m just not sure what I’d get. I think I’d like something artsy or cool like that. Maybe even something simple like a vinyl record.”

“Oh! I should mention to you one other thing. If you like vinyl records, which it seems like you do, you should really check out the Painted Goose bar. They do this thing where you can pay to play a vinyl record of your choosing. It’s really neat and one of my other favorite places to go. I think it’s worth stopping in for just a beer since you’re just passing by.”

“Wow, I love that name, Painted Goose. Thank you for the suggestion.”

“And that place you can actually look up online.” The server laughed. “I’ll put your order in. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Carol pulled out her phone and went through as many photos as she could find of the Painted Goose. Interior brick, a mural of a painted goose, and a wall of vinyl records made her eyes light up like fireworks. She was impressed by the high ratings, an average of 4.8 stars out of 5. All of the top ratings seemed to say the same thing, so she sorted by the lowest ratings to see who could have possibly said something negative. Some complained about the service being too slow, that the place was too hipster, or that it cost too much to get their favorite record played, but there was one that stood out to Carol.

“I hate to leave a bad review because I enjoyed the atmosphere of the bar, but something was off about the place. When I went outside for a smoke, some guy was watching me beyond the fence of the bar. It was really creepy. From that experience alone, I don’t think I’ll ever come back to the Painted Goose.”

Carol’s skin tingled as she read the blurb, but she revisited the top reviews and could feel excitement build in her chest. She knew the tricky part was going to be convincing Mitchell.

“So I looked up reviews of the painted goose, and I saw photos, and I really really want to check it out. I also want to check out the park, but I understand if you think we don’t have time for both. But a quick walk around the park and one beer at the Painted Goose is all I’m asking.”

Mitchell laughed to himself. “You know what, we’re on vacation, we don’t have anywhere we need to be at any specific time today, why don’t we do both?”

Carol and Mitchell had their meal delivered after waiting only 10 minutes. Mitchell had ordered a cheese omelet, and Carol had a veggie pita wrap. They paid in cash, gave a 25% tip, and left the restaurant. Since the sun hovered just about the horizon, they went to the park first. It was a vast open space with a small wooden dock, tall trees, a few picnic tables, and a wide sidewalk along the river. A long line stretched out from a tiny shack selling soft-serve ice cream. Both Carol and Mitchell were glad they stopped. They thought about grabbing ice cream, but instead, they went to the Painted Goose.

As the night came, the one beer turned into more beers. They became friends with other people at the bar.

They lost track of time, and eventually, they lost track of everything.

The night descended into a blur.

The following morning, Carol and Mitchell were nowhere to be found. Their car was left abandoned in the Buckwheat’s parking lot.