The stranger hadn’t eaten in a couple of days, so he dug in greedily. The shake was better than the steak sandwich, so he sipped it slowly, trying to make it last. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and hands on the napkins the waitress had left by his plate. He looked out the window and watched the cars on the road and the river beyond. Really, someone needed to do something about it. A few minutes later the waitress returned.

“You must have been a hungry boy. You put that away in record time,” she said.

“Indeed I was,” said the stranger, deciding to break his silence. He pointed over his head. “That photo of Leo Gorcey. Did he eat here sometimes?”

Caroline looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. “No. He never ate here. But he retired in the area. A real live movie star from Hollywood.”

“Hollywood,” he said. “Thank you.”

As she gathered up his cutlery and plate the waitress said, “Are you staying in Red Bluff or just passing through?”

The stranger took a moment before answering. Eventually he said, “Just passing through. It’s a pretty town.”

“‘The Victorian city by the river.’ That’s what folks call it.”

“Then the river doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it?” she said.

“It’s so . . . crinkly.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure I quite understand.”

“Never mind. Just a personal quirk,” he said, smiling.

“Are you ready for your check?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She put it on the table and took his dishes back to the kitchen. He took the check to the counter and put some money down by the cash register. The bills were old and creased like the map, but still good. He’d made sure of that. The waitress came out from the kitchen, rang him up, and handed him his change. “Thanks. Come again,” she said.

“Thank you,” the stranger said. He started outside, but stopped and turned around. “Have you ever heard of a restaurant called Bob’s Big Boy?”

“Oh my, yes. That’s what gave Bob, the owner—isn’t it funny that his name is Bob, too?—the idea for this place.”

“Yes. Hysterical,” he said.

“Are you going to go there on your trip?” said Caroline.

“What makes you think I’m going to Los Angeles?”

She shrugged. “Just a guess. You asked about Bob’s Big Boy.”

“Of course,” said the stranger. “Of course.” He looked around the restaurant one more time. He wanted to remember it all, every molecule of it. Then he nodded to Caroline and left.

Outside, he put on his sunglasses. As he walked back to the freeway he thought, Two waitresses. One cook. Ten customers scattered between the counter and tables. Thirteen. Always an interesting number. One can take it so many ways. It would be something to think about on his long walk.