So, it’s Tuesday morning, around 2 am, and I pulled my truck into Viola’s place, officially called the Sunny Boy Diner. My usual thing was to crawl back into the sleeper, set the alarm for 5 am and then crash. I’d get up, go in have breakfast and then return to my home port of Wheeling W. Va. where our produce plant was.  I do this run every Tuesday and Friday and last week I had a talk inside with William Shakespeare. Now I know you think this truck driver has to have brown eyes because he’s full of shit up to his scalp, but please bear with me. I covered up, said my prayers, and fell fast asleep. Sometime before five I heard a strange sound. It reminded me of the old-style dinner bell you see in the movies. I got up, poured some water to wash the “eye boogers” out, as we truckers call them, and strolled into the restaurant.

     The diner had typical seating as in eight booths going north and south, eight going east and west and ten stools at the counter. The color scheme was bi; red and chrome everywhere. At the third booth I saw Viola just standing there with her hand pointing as in “sit here.” Across from her was an older man with long white hair and a tall shirt collar that looked a little weird, but the whole scene was a little bizarre anyway. I sat down, ordered a coffee, and addressed the man.

     “Hi pal,” I said with an outstretched hand. “My name is Tommy. Nice to meet you.”

     He clenched my hand with his and spoke.

     “Hello, sir. My name is john Adams. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you.”

     Now I recognized the dude from my American History class in high school when I was awake. It was the real John Adams: American Patriot, Founding Father and President for I didn’t remember how many terms.

     “Can I call you Johhny?”

     He released my hand swiftly, sat back in the booth while folding both hands and laying them in his lap.

     “If you must,” he answered, rather unenthusiastically. “You appear to be a man with many questions. Am I correct on that assumption?”

     “Yeah. A shitload, as a matter of fact,” I answered in trucker-speak.

      “I fail to understand that phrase. Did you mean boatload?”

     “Yes…yeah,” I said a little embarrassed. “A boat load is what I meant. Speaking of that subject, how did you feel about that tea party thing?”

     “Do you mean the time we challenged the British on their taxing policies?”

     “Yeah. Did you engineer that?”

     “No. as a matter of fact I wasn’t even in Boston when it happened. I was away on business.”

     There was something that the Sons of Liberty did that has always annoyed me and others. I just had to bring it up.

     “Who’s idea was it to dress up like Indians and do that deed?” I asked.

     Johnny let out a little sigh and started to twiddle his thumbs. I thought the whole conference was over.

      “It was not my idea, and I have many regrets about that, but the outcome was in our favor latter. They should have dressed in their regular garments.”

     “Yeah, that was pretty chickenshit if you ask me, and I now a lot of people who think that too,” I said.

     Another weird look from the Master of English Grammar. “Chickenwhat?”

     “Oh … sorry, that’s my bad. I meant cowardly. Anyway, wht weren’t you consulted?”

     “Because everyone in Massachusetts was angry with me. All manner of consulting stopped almost overnight.”

     “Why? Who’d you piss o—anger that much?”

     It was then he told something I didn’t know about history, which is no surprise to you, the reader. Just then Viola came and saved my ass.

     “What would you two like to drink, tea or coffee,” she asked in her professional tone.

     “I detest tea for reasons this gentleman will tell you later,” John said, even cracking a little. “I’ll have coffee, if you please.”

“Did you hear that, Tommy?” Vi said trying not to laugh. He called you a gentleman. Imagine that.”

     “Well, I am sweetheart. When I’m staying over at a girl’s house I never pee in her shower after we finish our party, so to speak. I’ll have a coffee.”

     If looks could kill, I knew I’d be one dead dude, but she left and got our drinks. Now I knew I was into something important, so I started again.

     “Well, Johnny. Lay it out there. I’m all ears.”

     “That is definitely true. Have you heard about the altercation between the British troops and our Patriots?”

     “Not really, so school me.”

     He let out another sign, took a big drink of his coffee and began.

     “A platoon of British soldiers, that being eight men, was met by our Patriots at the Boston Common House. Both sides were armed and soon someone opened fire. Five Patriots died and immediately the soldiers were arrested and charged with murder. They were given a trial date, but no attorning anywhere in the Colonies would represent them, so I volunteered and did it pro bono.”

     “Why on earth would you do that?” I asked, shocked to almost speechless.

     “Because I firmly believe that everyone is entitled to a defense. No matter the nationality, nor the gender nor the racial background. It is a nation’s ultimate act of fairness.”

     “How’d it turn out?” I asked.

     “Six of the soldiers were acquitted; the other two were convicted of manslaughter and given reduced sentences. The two found guilty of manslaughter were sentenced to branding on their hand.”

     “By twelve Sons of Liberty? How’d you manage that?”

     “I produced two witnesses, our people, who said they heard a very loud bang and then other singular shots. I deduced that one Brit and one Patriot fired their weapons at each other at the same time, so I declared it a draw. The jury agreed with my theory and let the majority off. That’s about it.”

     Well, I was now totally speechless. Johnny looked at our empty coffee cups and raised a hand to get Vi’s attention. She came with refills while I was trying to get my shit together. Then, I had a real brainfart.

     “Ya’ know, Johnny, this reminds me of something. We have a ruling, by our Supreme Court mind you, that I think was based on your attitude on this.”

     “Pray tell, what was it?”

     “A while back some dude with the last name of …Miraset…Miralax…oh let me think here…Miranda, yeah, Mr. Miranda was arrested by our cops and quickly convicted of something that later they found he didn’t do. He was poor and couldn’t afford a lawyer, so he just had to accept it. Later on, a group of lawyers represented him, pro bono, and it went all the way to the high court. Now, whenever you’re arrested the cops have to tell you…let me think again, I want to get this right…You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may and will be used against you in a court of law. Now here comes your example, If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. And then they have to ask you if you understand that. What do you think my friend?”

     “In what year, in your time, was this accomplished?”

     Back to Google Search.

     It was in 1966,” I said proudly.

     Johnny started to twiddle his thumbs again and then used his fingers to do some pseudo calculation.

     “Let me see,” he said, matter-of-factly. “So, it only took this country of ours two hundred years to get it right. Am I correct in that assumption?”

     I didn’t think the art of Smartassery was invented till the 20th Century, but I guess I was wrong. He gently busted my genitalia on that and now it was my turn,

     “I guess. Speaking of two hundred years ago, is it true you found Ben Franklin, when he was in France, in a bathtub with a Madame Brillon, both buck naked and playing chess?”

     Now I had him. He was looking for something to say, but the room fell quiet. I started to smile and then he shot me down.

     “Let me recite something for you to answer that question.

     No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law.”

      Now I had to get into my history bag, but it didn’t take me long to remember what that was.

      “So, Johhny, I take it you’re pleading the Fifth.”

      “Yes Tommy, you are correct. But for now, I must take my leave and hug my dear, sweet wife Abigail. It has indeed been a pleasure,” he said as he stretched out his hand.

            I shook his and then everything went dark. The next thing I heard was my alarm going off. I turned it off looked at the time and it was five. I figured I must’ve dreamed a Dinerviews again, si I got dressed and went into Vi’s for breakfast. I walked in, sat in a booth and ordered three eggs, over medium, hash browns and a sausage patty. Vi brought me a coffee and then just stood there, looking at me.

            “I saw another wierdo hanging around the parking lot earlier. Did you see anything strange out there?”

            There was no way I was gonna tell her about my dreams. If I did within the hour some guys wearing white outfits and carrying a straight jacket would be escorting me outside.          

     “No. What’d he look like?”

     “He was elderly with long, snow-white hair and wearing some funky looking clothes. Kinda like that hippy that was in here last Tuesday…when you were here. You giving these nutcases a ride?”

     I had to think quickly.

     “No ma’am. If I did, I wouldn’t bring them here to this fine, upstanding, five-star eatery. Surely not!”

     “Alright. I’ll take your word for it…this time.”

      And she walked away. I still don’t know how to explain it, but something tells me I better bring Miss Viola some roses next Tuesday. I got some suckin’up to do.