There was no telling how long it would be before they got to another filling station or small town, so Sylvia just pulled the car to the side of the road and parked, the tires sliding in the gravel as she depressed the break far too quickly.
She got out of the car and stretched her arms to the sky. The sun was setting in the distance, and that gave the drab landscape a beauty that it lacked before. She inhaled deeply and the air was so pure it hurt her lungs a little. She felt vibrant now that she was out of the car, and so took her time walking around to the passenger's side.
She and Bill crossed each other at the rear of the car, putting their hands together as they passed, but just as Bill's fingers were almost away from hers, Sylvia grabbed his hand and pulled. In a single motion, she hopped onto the trunk and pulled him between her legs.
“Don't you think we should get back to driving,” Bill asked, simultaneously grabbing the bottom of her shirt.
She crossed her legs behind him and drew him close as he pulled her shirt over her head.
His skin was the color of fire and he smelled like peppermint.
“I don't think you're in any position to argue,” she said, lightly kicking his sides–spurring him to action.
He took her on the trunk, their skin gradually shifting from orange to purple with the setting sun.
* * *
“How many?”
“No, I'm not answering that question. You know what my job is, so you know that the number is obviously large. I doubt I could even figure it out,” Sylvia said.
“I don't want you to count your clients. Just the people in your personal life. Come on, every couple asks each other this question at some point,” said Bill, determined.
“You don't want me to count the clients? So sex with them just didn't happen?”
“I want to know about the ones that meant something to you.”
“Well then, that would exclude a couple from my personal life too,” she said, giggling.
“You know what I mean.”
“OK, then seven.”
“Seven?”
“Yes, seven.”
Then Bill said, “That really isn't very many at all.”
“Why? How many have you slept with?”
“More.”
“How many more?”
“Thirty,” said Bill with trepidation.
“Wow, Dude, you're kind of a whore.”
Bill laughed at that, his eyes never leaving the road like a responsible human being. She liked to look at him in profile. He didn't have the chiseled chin of a comic book hero, but he had a manly cuteness that gave her goose bumps. The kind of look that made her want to just reach out and touch him like a rabbit in a pet store.
“You know, I didn't lose my virginity until I was nineteen,” she said.
“Wow, I wouldn't have thought.”
“Yeah, most people who find out what I do for a living assume I started having sex right out of the womb, but like I said before, I was sheltered. There was never any chance to do anything like that. I was barely able to sneak a few kisses growing up. Tommy Mindleton fingering me under the bleachers at a football game was the most sexual thing that had ever happened to me.” She took a sip of bottled water and continued. “When I was eighteen, I made up my mind to get out of Pleasure and take over the world, and at almost the same time, I decided to lose my virginity before I left. I didn't want to face the world without carnal knowledge in my pocket.”
“So, did you just pick a name out of a hat?”
“No, I picked the neighbor boy who had a crush on me since we were little kids. Ever since I kissed him on the cheek when he gave me a daisy, it was always going to be him, I think. Through absolutely everything that happened to me for that first part of my life, he was always there. We were never the best of friends, but he was always there when I needed him. He liked to spy on me through a hole in our privacy fence.”
“Sounds creepy.”
“No, it was the most innocent thing in the world. He was sweet. So, a few days before I was set to leave, I approached him and told him what I wanted to do. We found a nice spot in the woods, and he brought a picnic. He brought a white and red-checkered cloth, and everything. After we ate sandwiches, he got on top and wiggled his body into me. It didn't take long, and I didn't feel pain like I was always told I would.” Sylvia closed her eyes and remembered the awkward face that was on the boy after he was finished.
“His name was Cody,” she continued, “and for the next two days, he followed me around wherever I went. I finally had to be a little mean to him to get him to stop. I still feel bad about it, but he just wouldn't leave me alone. That was when I realized the power I possess between my legs, and I have never forgotten. A month later, I managed to hitch all the way to San Francisco.”
Bill let the end of her story linger in the air, and soon, the moment for more discussion had passed them by. Sylvia's mind drifted as she watched the black wilderness outside her window and thought of Cody's sweet little smile.
Then Bill was waking her from a sleep she hadn't realized that she had fallen into.
“I just picked this motel. Mainly because it's the only motel.”
“All motels are the same. I bet this one has paradise or oasis in the name doesn't it?”
“It's actually called Whisper Falls Inn.”
“Close enough.”
Whisper Falls Inn had three other vehicles in the parking lot besides theirs. One probably belonged to the front desk girl that she could see through the lobby window already waving at them, and another looked as if it had not been moved in years.
Inside there was an odor that nearly made the two of them cover their noses, yet neither knew what the smell could have emanated from. The woman behind the counter seemed quite friendly, but her enthusiasm showed a marked decline when she noticed their nasal reaction.
Trying to lighten up the atmosphere, Bill said, “So where are the falls ma'am?”
“I'm sorry?” she asked.
“Never mind. We'd like a room please.”
“Absolutely, Sir, any preference as to which one?”
“Is there a good one?” Sylvia asked.
“Well I'm partial to thirteen myself. I spend some time there sometimes.”
“OK then,” Sylvia said, “We're going to let you keep that one. How about lucky number eleven?”
“No problem at all, Ma'am.”
“Hey, what state are we in?” Sylvia asked the clerk.
“You're in the great state of Nebraska, Ma'am, but just barely. The Iowa border is just ten miles in that direction,” the clerk said, pointing at the wall beside her.
“Damn, we drove a long way,” said Bill.
“Where are you folks coming from, if you don't mind me asking?”
“San Francisco.”
“Oh. Oh,” the young girl said exasperatedly, “Are you gay?”
Sylvia laughed, “Yeah, Babe, we both are.” She grabbed the key off the counter, gave the clerk a seductive wink, and then followed Bill out the door lickety-split. “I bet I'm the first lesbian she's ever seen.”
“You never forget your first,” said Bill.
There was only one floor, yet for some reason, the rooms were not numbered in the usual order. They were all scattered, and Bill and Sylvia had a hard time finding number eleven. Finally, they found it to be the closest one to the lobby, and they had to jiggle the key every which way to get the door open.
“I'll tell you this, Bill my love, I'm checking the bathroom for peepholes. That cornhusker chick was shifty.”
Bill sat on the side of the bed nearest the wall and was taking off his socks.
“No that's my side,” she declared.
“Why?”
“I always sleep on the side furthest from the phone. It's more comfortable because everyone sleeps on the other side to get their wake up call.”
“And it means nothing that I sat myself down here first?”
“Nope,” s
he said smiling. As Bill got up and crossed to the other side of the bed, she gave him a quick kiss and a pat on the rear end. She sat down in the same spot Bill had previously occupied and began to undress. When she was down to her underwear, she reached over and grabbed the t-shirt that Bill had just taken off and slipped it over her head. Bill wasn't a very big guy, but his shirt was like a poncho on her.
“You look good in my clothes.”
“And they fit me so well.” Sylvia snuggled her body into the bed as best she could, waiting for Bill to lay down and put his arms around her.
He pulled open the drawer of the nightstand and put his wallet, watch, and keys inside. Then he pulled out the Bible from within.
“How about a little light reading before bed?”
“Put that away. That thing has never liked me.”
Bill tossed the book back in the drawer and shut it, then turned out the light. He nestled down with his body flush against her, his arms draped gently across her torso. Moments later, Sylvia could hear his little bunny snores, and as always, they put her right to sleep.
FORTY
It only took a few miles of open road for Harry to begin to understand the Hummer's appeal. Even as a passenger, he could feel the power of the machine course through his veins as they rocketed down the highway.
The vehicle's power wasn't the only force that was affecting Harry. The sheer adrenaline that comes from setting a course toward potential danger was making his arm hair buzz. He was scared, but the anticipation dulled the fear. He would periodically attempt to sit back in his seat and relax, but it proved futile. “I'm excited,” he told Love, unable to put what he was feeling into better words.
“Of course you are. You've found yourself,” she replied.
Those were better words.
“I heard a rumor that you were retiring,” Harry said.
“Yeah. We're throwing in the towel.”
“I don't think that I've ever asked you how old you are.”
“Twenty-seven.”
Cradle robber.
“How is it that you can retire at twenty-seven? Don't you have bills?”
“I can retire because I have two million dollars tucked away, collecting interest. I couldn't make that much working my entire life for the bureau.”
“Two million! Why did you ever take the job in the first place?”
Harry's jaw was still open when Love began her story. Two million dollars was almost obscene.
“Slick, Nicky, and I made our money playing the stock market when we were still freshmen in college. We were good at it, and were lucky to get out before the floor dropped. We considered quitting school and taking off to a beach somewhere, but by that time, we all had gotten into forensics. We were really into the puzzle of it all, you know? So, we stayed in school like good little children, and one day the FBI came knocking at our door. We couldn't pass up the chance to see what was behind the curtain.”
Love reached in the center console, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. “I smoke two of these a day. I know that it's terrible. Don't hate me. I used to smoke a lot more, and quitting entirely didn't work out. Finally, I found that two was the magic number.”
Harry despised smoking, in truth, but it was somehow sexy when Love did it.
She continued, “Anyway, the thrill is gone as they say. Time for something new.”
“Like what?”
“I'm not sure. Maybe some grand adventure. Maybe get fat and never leave the couch. Most likely, somewhere in between.”
They drove for hours, singing along to the good tunes and making fun of the bad. The road was never ending, yet they were determined to prove it wrong. Harry looked back on the last weeks, wondering if he had made any mistakes, and dreamed of a life that was flawless.
“What will we do when we see him?” Harry asked. He knew in his gut that the story would end in Pleasure. He wasn't sure what to expect, but as they drew nearer, he knew that some grand finale to this portion of his life awaited him there.
“Arrest him. Shoot him. Kill him,” she said, taking a beat between each sentence.
Harry lost track of time as the rumble of the Hummer's engines lulled him to sleep. He dreamed of being a kid again, of his failed marriage, and of sex. Then he woke himself with a loud snort that made Love laugh.
Miles and miles and miles they drove.
“Tell me about the Blue Bloods,” he said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, I'm sure you know there are lots of rumors.”
“Do you mean am I constantly fucking my brothers?”
Harry had been taking a sip of water and nearly drowned in it.
“I mean, I assume it's not true, but, you never know, I guess.”
“Would it shock you if I said yes? Would it turn you on? Turn you off?”
Why did you bring it up, you stupid fuck?
“I don't know how to answer that.”
“Relax, Harry, I'm just fucking with you. You're too easy! They aren't my brothers. I'm an only child. We just went to school together and found each other through mutual interests, just the same as anyone meets anybody.”
“Oh, OK. That makes sense,” Harry said, though he let the topic linger in the air.
“You still want to know if we fuck each other, don't you?”
“Yes, I do,” he said, smiling.
“No we don't. I had sex with Slick once after we first met, but that didn't work out. His name is Brian, by the way. Nicky and I have never done anything like that, but I'm pretty sure he wants to.”
They kept driving.
Miles and miles and miles.
* * *
Despite Love's attempts, they had not overtaken the reporter and her potential psychotic driving buddy. The hour had grown late, and when they came across the neon sign for a motel, Love pulled in and killed the engine.
The motel was called The Oasis, and it wasn't a traditional building, but rather a series of small buildings in the shape of oversized teepees. Each was painted with bright colors in faux-tribal designs, and they surrounded a large statue of a Native American smoking a pipe.
“This may be the ugliest place I've ever seen,” Love said. “I'm so happy I got to see it.”
Harry agreed with Love on the measure of the motel's beauty, but was not quite with her on his desire to be there. The motel's office was the teepee at the front, but a person would only know it by the words Check In painted in huge letters on the outside. There were no windows. It was a mystery how the person at the front desk could possibly keep an eye on the place.
Inside, they found the clerk asleep, his head resting on a pillow positioned on the desk in front of him. There was a rack with pamphlets about the motel, and Love grabbed one. When Harry tapped the small metal bell, its sound reverberated against the round walls of the teepee in a seemingly endless hum. The clerk jumped from his pillow and was immediately alert. He wore a black t-shirt with a gaudy stallion reared up, with the moon–much too large–at its back.
“Would you please open the door?” the clerk asked. Love obliged him, and as soon as the door was ajar, the incessant hum ceased.
“Why have the bell at all?” Love asked.
“Management insists. How can I help you?”
Harry was all at once at a loss. He suddenly couldn't decide if he should ask for two rooms, or if he should be bold and just request one. Thus far, they had done nothing but kiss. When he glanced over at Love, she had the smallest of smiles, as if she could read his mind and enjoyed watching him suffer.
Oh just go for the damn thing.
“We need a room, please,” he said, his voice cracking just a bit. Love made no protest.
You go, Boy!
“Here at The Oasis, we like to refer to the rooms as teepees. You'll be in teepee number five this evening. Will that be for the full night or just an hour?”
“Dude!” Love exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders as if to say, what the fuck?
&nbs
p; “I'm sorry ma'am. I didn't mean to be presumptuous.”
“Whatever,” she said.
The clerk continued, as if reading a mental script, “You will be in teepee number five this evening. I hope that you find your stay at The Oasis a unique one.”
“Is there a fire pit in the teepee, or do we need to make our own?” asked Love.
“Unfortunately, the teepees are not equipped with the proper ventilation to build a fire inside,” the clerk answered with a straight face, as if he got the question often.
“Gotcha. You stay gold, Pony Boy,” Love said, pointing at his t-shirt.
“My name is Carl.”
Outside, they found the teepee marked five. As expected, the interior was circular and the lack of windows made the room seem as if it were closing in on them.
“I hope you aren't claustrophobic,” Harry said.
“Only when I'm in confined spaces,” she said, grinning. “It sucks in here, but I'll be fine.”
Even though they had gotten one room, Harry was still unsure how the night would go. He took off his button shirt, but left his undershirt on. He contemplated whether to remove his jeans, but in the end decided that he would never be able to sleep if he didn't. In as quick succession as he could pull off, he stood, dropped his pants, and then tucked his body under the blanket.
“Don't think I didn't just see how white those legs were, Buddy.”
“Now that I'm retired, I plan to get a little more sun,” he said. Harry held the blanket up to his neck like a small child waiting for a bedtime story. Love had gone into the bathroom, but had not closed the door all of the way. He now had a five-inch wide, vertical view of Love removing her clothes. He looked forward, but kept his eyes on his peripheral. He was living a fantasy that every straight male had had since the dawning of civilization.
When she opened the door, she was wearing only a tank top and white cotton panties. She sat on her side of the bed, removed her top, and backed her body into the bed so Harry couldn't see her front. When she turned to face him, she was covered to her shoulders.
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