The Drifter Chronicles - Episode One

 

 
thedrifterchroniclesfrontcvr1.jpg
 
 

_____________________________________________________

This book is dedicated
To My Little Boy

 

Daniel

 

Who Inspires Me
to Become a Better Man

 

May God and His Angels
Watch Over, Protect & Guide You

_____________________________________________________

 

The Drifter Chronicles by Michael Traveler
Episode One

The Man in the Diner - Part One

 

_____________________________________________________

diner2neg1.jpg

_____________________________________________________

.

 

o-neg.jpgut of the fog a figure began to emerge, back lit by headlights - partially obscured by the rain. The figure looked hunched over to protect itself from the storm - coat tail flapping in the wind.

 .
Large puddles bordering on streams of water had begun to gather beside the road where the figure walked. The passing lights, momentarily reflecting off the flowing streams, then turning to inky blackness again.

.
The figure trudged on.

.
Earlier that day the weather had been very different. Like early spring. Warm. Sunny. And the traveler had stopped at a creek he had seen flowing into a canyon.

.
He hopped over a railing and climbed down the rocks to the canyon and walked along a makeshift trail jumping from rock to rock until he was down where the stream bubbled over the stones that lay in the riverbed.

.
It had been years since he had been to the canyon or looked upon the creek that flowed through it or seen the shafts of light that reached down and touched it like the fingers of God.

.
But now, as he looked upon it once again, it was as if it had only been minutes since he'd seen it last.

.
Nick brushed the sweat from his forehead and then reached down scooping water from the stream and splashing it on his face. It felt cool and clean. He rubbed some of the water on the back of his neck then reached down and splashed more on his face, then looked up towards the sun and shook his head letting the sun's warmth cascade over his face.

 .
It felt good to take a break after walking for so long and so far. If only he knew where he was going ...

 .
A sign a few miles back said that there was a truck stop and diner just a bit up the road. Maybe, he would stop there, grab something cool to drink, a bite to eat and a newspaper and try to figure it out.

.
Maybe God would tell him then.

.

.

 

The Man in the Diner - Part Two 

t.jpghe diner was a throw-back to the kind that made Route 66 famous, red and white vinyl booths with lots of shiny chrome and big windows shimmering with color - off and on - from a neon sign flashing “Eat Here” beckoning weary travelers, passing in the night, to slow down, grab a bite and take a break.

.
Only this diner wasn't quite as shiny as it once had been and the neon sign was missing a couple letters that no longer lit up and the vinyl booths had seen their day and now were patched with duct tape from years of wear and tear and obvious neglect.

.
It was here in a roadside greasy spoon next to a grimy run-down truck stop that I met the drifter.

.
He was sitting in a booth across the aisle from me nursing a cup of Joe and reading the local paper. He seemed to fit-in just fine with a place like this. His long drab duster and weathered hat, torn jeans and gruff appearance was not at all out of place.

.
Everything about him seemed like it had been torn from the pages of a novel. Strange, living a life so surreal. But something told me that this man, not more than a few feet away from me, had lived just such a life, that he had been and was still caught in a weird dream, trying desperately to wake from it – lost, wandering, searching – needing to find the truth and yet afraid that when he finally did, he'd come to realize that it was only an illusion, a façade, not his real life.

.
And what I discovered there in the diner is that you can go your entire life and never meet a soul like his and in an instant, your whole world can change when you do.

.
“Top her off?” the waitress asked him.

.
He looked up at her and smiled. It was a nice smile, a friendly smile, yet haunting. Like it was missing something. Lost. Trying to keep its distance, but really not wanting to. “Yes. Thank you! ”

.
“Care to order somethin'?” she asked.

.
“In a bit.” He motioned at the paper. And smiled again.

.
“When yer ready, just let me know,” and she headed off towards the counter.

.
There are moments when everything in your life suddenly changed – an instant in time when you know that nothing will ever be the same. Perhaps, you took a wrong turn or bet on the wrong horse or put off getting new tires and found yourself stranded in the rain on the side of the road. Mine was a question ... “You from around here or just passin' through?” I asked.

.
“Not sure,” he said.

.
“Not sure you're from around here or passin' through? ”

.
“Both.”

.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you.”

.

“No bother. How 'bout you? You from around here? ”

.
“Sorta. I grew up not far from here.”

.
He motioned towards my table. “You mind if I join you? ”

.
“Not at all.”

.
He grabbed his hat and coat and coffee and slid into the booth directly across from me. And with blue eyes that had seen more life, more death, more violence and more bitter-sweet beauty and pain than any one soul should ever have to endure, he looked at me and said, “Then, maybe, you could help me … 

.
And he began to tell me a story, a tale that took me into the darkest regions of the human soul, that broke the heart and touched the spirit, kept me riveted, glued to my seat, that caused time to stand still and changed my life forever …

.
His story started with a dare, a window, a young boy, an old man and a broken down house that sat at the end of Miracle Road.

 

 

______________________________________________

 

Episode Two >>

 

______________________________________________
 

Don't miss a single episode, Twist or Turn,

Keep Checking Back

.

<< return to Online Episodic Books