No Tomorrow

by Jake Hinkson

  “How long will you be staying?”

  “Just tonight.”

  She nodded and passed the registry to me with her free hand. “Five dollars even,” she said.

  As I signed and paid her, I asked, “Is there somewhere to get breakfast?”

  She gave me a room key marked Bungalow C. “Brittle Rock café is open at six-thirty. Just down the road a piece. Serves a breakfast.”

  I thanked her, and she gave me a little wave with the book, her finger still marking her page. I walked outside. Leaning against the car and staring down Route 66, Amberly was smoking one of my cigarettes.

  “You don’t smoke,” I said.

  Without taking her eyes off the road, she said, “And yet here I am, smoking. Must be quite a sight.” She placed the cigarette in the corner of her mouth and then drew out a white silk scarf from the car.

  I watched her tie the scarf around her neck, knotting it tight, and when I was sure she had nothing else to say to me, I collected our luggage and carried it to Bungalow C. I set down the bags on the little stone stoop and unlocked the door. Leaving the door open, I carried the bags inside.

  After a moment, Amberly appeared in the doorway and said, “We need some alcohol.”

  I turned around and looked at her without saying anything.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Good,” she said. “Let’s get a bottle then.”

  “I don’t know where to go.”

  “Would the front office have one?”

  “I doubt it. She’s just an old woman.”

  “Then maybe in town.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck and groused, “Amberly…”

  “What?”

  “Do we have to? We just got off the road. Jesus, we’ve been driving all day for two days straight. The town’s a couple of miles away. The thought of getting back in the car just now…”

  She nodded and walked in and shut the door.

  The bungalow had wooden floors and red-clay walls. A little sitting room with a desk and a couple of chairs led into a small dining area and a kitchenette. The bedroom and bath were in the back, but they seemed unreachable at the moment.

  Amberly sat down on the desk and lit another cigarette.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked.

  “Why? Should I be?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t tell you about losing my job.”

  She stared at the cigarette smoke curling to the ceiling. “No, I guess you didn’t.”

  “So, tell me, are you mad?”

  She would not look at me. After watching the smoke dissipate against the ceiling she turned her attention to her nails. “I suppose I’m not, Billie. I’m just disappointed.”

  “Well, I’m not too happy about being out of a job.”

  “I’m disappointed you didn’t think more of me than to tell me.”

  Footsteps clomped across the stoop and knuckles rapped on the door.

  Amberly stood up and came and stood beside me.

  I moved to the door and, without opening it, said, “Yes?”

  A young male voice announced, “Delmer from the front office.”

  I told Amberly, “It’s okay” and opened the door.

  A skinny young man with red ears smiled back at me. When he saw Amberly, he smiled even wider and his ears got even redder. “Evening ladies. I thought I should come check on you. Sorry the old lady didn’t wake me when you all checked in. Say…she didn’t tell me we had a couple of movie stars staying with us. Let me see” he balled up his big lips and shot me with his forefinger “you’re Ella Raines, ain’t you? And you, miss,” he said shooting Amberly “why you must be Paulette Goddard. I’d know you anywhere.”

  I was too tired to fake being charmed, but I managed a weak smile. “Thanks for checking on us, I don’t think – ”

  “Oh, it’s no bother for me to check on you. Fact is, I only got the old lady to talk to in there, and once she gets locked into one of her books there ain’t no dragging her out of it ‘til she’s finished.”

  “Fine. I don’t think we need anything now except some sleep.”

  Amberly said, “Hold on just a moment.” She walked over to us and leaned against the doorway. “What’s your name, again?”

  He hitched up his pants. “Name’s Delmer, pretty lady.”

  “Delmer what?”

  “Delmer Q. Duggans, ma’am.”

  “Delmer Q. Duggans, what on earth does the Q in your name stand for?”

  “Quayle. My momma’s maiden name. All my brothers and me got Quayle for our middle names.”

  Amberly said, “You don’t mean to tell me that there are more strapping young Duggans boys like you out there.”

  “Five of us, ma’am. Donald, David, Dick, Darrell, and Delmer.”

  I butted in, “And the war didn’t manage to pick off any of you?”

  “Nope,” he said. “We all come through in one piece.”

  “See,” I told Amberly, “there must be a God.” I glared at her. What the hell is this?

  “Delmer,” Amberly said, ignoring me, “I do think there is something you might do for us.”

  “Anything at all, ma’am.”

  “My friend and I – by the way this is Miss Billie Dixon and I’m Miss Amberly Fleming – well, we would like a drink.”

  Delmer lifted his big stupid eyebrows and smiled his big stupid smile. “Ah, like to do a little drinking before you call it a night?”

  “That’s right. Do you have access to any booze, here or in town?”

  He leaned against the door. “Matter of fact, I do have a bottle for sale. Now, there might have to be a bit of a mark up, being as it’s a specialty item and all.”

  “You run and go get it. And we insist that you have a drink with us.”

  Delmer just about pissed his pants as he nodded and ran off to get the bottle.

  When he was gone, I said, “You asked that moron to have a drink just to spite me.”

  “Not at all,” she said. “I could use a drink and so could you. Makes sense to have one with him. Makes him less suspicious.”

  “There’s nothing for him to be suspicious of, Amberly. We’re just two friends traveling together.”

  She crushed out her cigarette and lit another. “I think I could really grow to like smoking.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Let’s just not keep him here very long.”

  “Why?” she said. “It’s not as if you have something in Hollywood to rush back to.”

  My face flushed. I heard Delmer running back to toward us, and I didn’t want him to see me upset, so I went back to the washroom.

  ~ ~ ~

  When I came out some minutes later, they were drinking and laughing.

  Amberly was sitting in a chair with her legs crossed and Delmer was standing next to her, leaning against the desk.

  “There she is,” Amberly said.

  I tried to smile. “What are you two laughing about?”

  “Delmer was just telling me the funniest story about the folks who pass through here. Delmer,” she said gently slapping the back of his hand, “you really ought to send that to the Saturday Evening Post.”

  “They have the Saturday Evening Post in Arkansas?” I asked her. “I’m surprised you’ve heard of it.”

  She had a sip of Delmer’s hooch and smiled as if I’d said something cute. “Oh, I’ve been around more than you think.”

  Delmer looked at her and then at me and then at Amberly again. His ears were scarlet.

  “Why don’t you pour me a little of that, Delmer?” I said. “And tell me the story, if you don’t mind. I could use a good laugh.”

  Delmer picked up the bottle – a plain brown bottle with no label – and poured me half a glass.

  I took it and had a sip. It stung my mouth like a bee. “They still have Prohibition out here?” I said. “This tastes like it was mixed in the bathtub.”
/>   Delmer only grinned at that before he eased into his story. “I was just telling Miss Amberly here about a couple of folks we had come through a few years ago. Newlyweds. Arrived one day on foot, covered in road dust and soaked with sweat. Their car had crapped out on them – if you’ll pardon the expression – and they were on foot for miles. Make matters worse, they were already lost when the car died. Don’t know how they ended up out here, but that lady, she was fit to be tied. Her husband, he probably wasn’t too happy about the situation either, but then on top of everything he had to listen to her bellyaching about it.

  “So they stayed here that night. The Nances, that was their name. Mr. and Mrs. Something Nance. They fought the whole night. We heard them. I was younger then, but I stayed up all night just to listen to them cuss each other. You never heard two people talk like that to one another. A woman, too. Never heard such language come out of a woman. Cussed worse than a drunk cowboy.

  “That goes on all night. And I mean…all…night. The two of them just ranting and raving at each other. Then about four o’clock in the morning, they quit. We figure they’ve finally tuckered themselves out. About ten minutes go by…and they commence to, ah, making up. You know, in the way only a man and woman can.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “And they go at their lovemaking just as loud as they’d pursued their arguments. I was shocked, and the old lady was scandalized. And she’s seen and heard some things in her time, let me tell you. It sounded like…well, I don’t even know. You know how love scenes are depicted in them romance books? You’re ladies, you know what I mean.”

  “Romance books,” I said. “I can’t get enough of that stuff.”

  “Well, this was like that brung to life. Pretty steamy stuff.”

  Amberly asked me, “Isn’t that delightful?”

  “Yes. Though I’m not really sure that the Saturday Evening Post is ready for it.”

  Delmer finished off his drink, and before he could reach for the bottle, I said, “Well, Delmer, it’s been good to share this drink with you.”

  “Think nothing of it. In fac – ”

  “But we have to get up in the morning, so we should probably bid you good night.”

  Amberly smiled ever so pleasantly at her drink. “Don’t you think Delmer should stick around? Maybe we could tell him a story of our own.”

  “Well, sure,” Delmer said. “I’d lo – ”

  “No,” I said. “We need to hit the hay.”

  “But Billie, sweetheart, shouldn’t we tell Delmer all about how we became such good friends?”

  I glared at her, but at that moment I felt more fear than anger. “Be careful, Amberly.”

  Delmer, puzzled, stared at me with his mouth open. “What?”

  “It’s all so … boring,” I told him. “I don’t want you to be bored.”

  “Not at all,” Amberly said. “Delmer, I used to be married. It wasn’t a great marriage, but it was a marriage. I lived in a little town up in the Ozarks. Billie here works for a movie studio. Can you believe it?”

  “No fooling?” Delmer said.

  I shrugged, too nervous now to speak.

  “She came to town, and she and I just became the best of friends. Then, one day, she ran over my husband.”

  “Jesus, Amberly,” I said.

  Delmer’s slack mouth pulled itself into a brief attempt at a smile and then fell limp again.

  “Killed him dead,” Amberly said, taking a drink. “And now, to make it up to me, she’s taking me to Hollywood. Going to introduce me around. I’ve got my heart set on meeting Franchot Tone. Maybe I’ll be a movie star. Leastways, that’s what Billie here says.”

  Although Amberly had told the story, Delmer asked me the question. “Now, are you pulling my leg?”

  I shrugged again. “It’s the least I can do for her,” I said.

  “You know, I want to be honest here,” Delmer said. “I took a peek in the back of your car there and I seen them movie canisters piled up. I wondered if you were in the picture business.”

  I didn’t know what else to do, so I just shrugged again.

  Amberly yawned.

  Delmer looked like he was going to make another try for the bottle, so I said, “Well, with that, Delmer, I think we’ll pack it in for the night.”

  He looked at Amberly for a lifeline, but she finally relented. She’d had her fun, and now she was bored with him.

  “Yes,” she said. “I guess it’s time to say goodnight.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “What the hell was that?” I asked after I’d listened to Delmer walk back across the courtyard.

  Amberly poured us both another drink.

  “Well?” I said.

  “Drink that,” she said.

  “Are you going to talk to me?”

  “Are you going to drink that?”

  I downed it in one disgusting gulp.

  “Well,” she said. “That’s impressive. It’s a skill I didn’t know you had. There’s so much about you that I don’t know.”

  She stood up and walked across the room. Her skirt clung to her hips as she walked. The booze in my head made it hard for me to focus my thoughts, but I could concentrate on her hips without much effort.

  She leaned against the smooth red wall and regarded me over her glass.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was fired,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you sorry so on and so forth…”

  I poured another drink. I sipped at it. Delmer’s rotgut got better the more you imbibed, but I had to concentrate to get my words out in the correct order. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should have told you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose I was scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “Scared you wouldn’t come with me.”

  “Mm hmm,” she murmured into her glass. “And why is that?”

  “Amberly are you trying to get me to admit something? I don’t know what it is. Is there something I can say…to ease your mind?”

  “You don’t believe in me, do you?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. I felt my face flush. For a moment I tried to arrange my thoughts – to remain calm and think about what I wanted to say and the best way to say it – but instead I just closed my eyes as my orderly mind scattered like the pieces of paper in a gust of wind.

  She said, “You don’t believe in me, that I could…really be a movie star.”

  “What?”

  “You said I could.”

  “I never said … Did I say … I don’t think I ever said that.”

  “So it’s true. You don’t think I could?”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, what are you a child? A little girl? You want to be a movie star? You know how many people want to be stars in Los Angeles? Exactly all of them. You know how many will make it? Nearly none. It’s, what do you call that…statistics. You know what statistics is, are? It means almost nobody makes it.”

  Amberly stared at me, a frigid smile quivering on her lips. “I see. Well, you don’t know what I’m capable of. I sat in a dark house in the deep woods with a religious fanatic for over a year and I waited for a bus to pull into town. I waited, and I waited. I choked down my pride like medicine everyday because I knew. I knew all I needed was a train out of town, and you were that train. I can do – ”

  “That’s all I am to you,” I shouted. “A train. That’s right. You don’t care about me at all. You couldn’t wait to tell Delmer that I didn’t mean nothing to you but a ride out of town.”

  “Maybe if you believed in me it would be different,” she said. “Maybe I’ll just get another ride to Hollywood.”

  I laughed at her, boozy and mean. “Here’s what you, what you don’t understand. You’re pretty for Arkansas, Amberly. You understand? You’re pretty for Arkansas. You’re not a movie star. That’s not going
to happen. You’re going to go to Hollywood without me? Are you serious? You know what happens to girls like you in Hollywood? They get chopped up. They found one dead a few months ago. Some sick bastard raped her, carved her up, and cut her in half. Yeah. Sawed her in half at the waist and dumped the pieces in an empty lot. That’s what Hollywood does to the hometown beauty queen who thinks she’s going to be a movie star.”

  Amberly glared at me. “You’re ghoulish.”

  She stalked past me and slammed down her drink on the table. She opened the door and walked outside. At first, it looked as if she might walk toward the office, but instead she veered off. I followed her, out of the courtyard and into the desert.

  Everything was cold rock covered in pale blue moonlight. My head hurt already. I was going to have a headache in the morning.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I called out to her.

  She just kept walking and didn’t say anything. Where was she going? There was nothing here except uneven rock and clumps of cacti and brush.

  She kept walking, so far ahead of me now that I could see nothing but her blackened figure and the moonlit scarf snapping like a flag in the wind. Did she want me to follow her? Did she want me to catch her and turn her around? How far would we go? How far had we come?

  I stopped and turned around. The motor lodge shone small and bright in the distance. I wanted to go back and have another drink. I turned back to the desert to call to Amberly.

  But she was gone.

  “Amberly,” I called.

  “Amberly,” I called louder.

  The windless desert extended silently in all directions, the black earth overhung by a gray night sky.

  I listened for some sound beyond the clacking of my shoes against rock. Nothing. I stopped walking. I heard nothing.

  The yellow and blue lights of the motor lodge flickered over my shoulder. I did not want to go any further into the dark and lose that light.

  “Amberly,” I screamed.

  The desert made no sound. It was as if the barren earth held its breath, waiting for me to give up. I scanned the horizon, but there was no sign of her. I felt cold and alone.

  I turned around and walked back to the lodge.

  As I got close to Bungalow C, I tripped and fell to the ground. I landed on my knee and the pain spiked through the drunkenness and I yelped. I turned around to see if maybe Amberly had heard, to see if maybe she would come back. But there was nothing behind me but rock and sky.