by Jason Deas
“Good afternoon, sir,” the parking attendant said through the open car window.
Benny decided to mess around with the guy a bit and have a little fun. Still in the car, he lowered his sunglasses slowly and eyed him up and down. “How’s it hanging, Ace?” Benny drawled.
“Fine, sir. How are you this afternoon?”
“Couldn’t be better. Look here now,” Benny said popping up from the car. “I just checked the odometer and know how many miles my girl has on her.” Benny watched with amusement as the attendant’s face tightened. “I don’t mind if you take her for a little spin, but don’t put more than twenty miles on her.”
The attendant tried to speak and Benny cut him off. “She’s pretty good around a hundred. Shakes a bit at around one ten, and is smooth as a baby’s ass from there to one forty.”
“Oh, no sir,” the attendant was finally able to say. “We are under no circumstances allowed to take the guests’ cars out of the hotel lot.”
“Make an exception,” Benny advised. “She’ll change your life.”
Benny walked away, unaware that it was his life that was about to be changed forever.
Inside the hotel, Benny took a moment to absorb the stunning beauty of the lobby. Feeling as if he was visiting a king, or in this case a princess, he made his way to the front desk.
Before he had a chance to speak, a handsomely dressed man greeted him. “Good afternoon Mr. James, we have been expecting you.”
Benny realized the man must have seen him on television in one of his many interviews. He reached his hand across the counter and shook the man’s hand. “Beautiful place here. What’s your name?”
“Charles.”
Benny could tell by Charles’ reaction that not too many guests had shaken his hand in such a friendly manner across the counter.
“Miss Clark left a key for you.” Charles handed over the key. “She also left a note.” Charles handed him the piece of paper. “May I help you in any other way, Mr. James?”
“I think I’m good,” Benny smiled. “Thanks for your help.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
The note from Lizzy was filled with many clues Benny missed. He hardly ever missed a clue and rarely was he blindsided, but Lizzy snowed him over good. The first clue he should have picked up on was the perfume. Who sprays perfume on a note? Benny chalked up the heavenly smell to accidental touching and the proximity of the paper to her body.
The second clue he missed was the heart she used to dot the “i” in her name on the signature. The third clue he missed was what the note said.
To boil it down, it basically said: Here is a key to my luxurious, hidden away from the world room. Have a drink, make yourself comfortable, and wait for my oiled and relaxed body.
Sucker.
Benny unlocked the door and entered the room. It was magnificent. He had been in some nice hotel rooms, but this room by far took home the prize as the classiest. Taking two steps inside, Benny heard the shower and froze. On a table beside a Jack and Coke sat a note informing him she had finished her massage earlier than expected, and would be out in just a moment.
Benny didn’t remember telling Lizzy his favorite adult beverage was whiskey and Coke. Little did he know, he had mentioned it on one occasion and she remembered. Unfortunately, Benny had no idea of her cunning nature.
Other than the beverage and the letter, it didn’t look as though the room had been inhabited by anyone. Under his chair, on the floor, lay the only other item in the room that did not belong—a pair of pink panties. They almost blended in with the deep pinks in the carpet pattern and Benny decided this was the reason he did not see them previously.
He didn’t want to step on them, so he delicately picked them up by a corner and tossed them a little to the other side of the table. When he did, the perfume smell that had so enticed him before sent a jolt straight through his nose, took a right turn, dashed through his heart, and zigzagged its way to his midsection. From there it went straight to his brain and bounced around like a pinball machine gone mad.
Not thinking or remembering that Federal agents were not supposed to drink on the clock in most situations, Benny picked up the drink and downed half of it in one slug. The shower was turned off, and he finished the drink with another belt. As if she had somehow been watching and timing all of this perfectly, someone knocked at the door.
Benny answered and stood aside as room service pushed a silver cart into the room with a fresh Jack and Coke on the rocks for Benny, a gin and tonic for Lizzy, and two brand new bottles of each accompanied by a very classy container of ice. Benny tried to tip the waitress and she informed him that Miss Clark had already taken care of the bill and the tip.
As soon as the door closed, Lizzy called Benny from behind the bathroom door.
“Benny?”
“Yes.” He looked at the cart with interest.
“I’ll be just a minute. Have another drink and relax. You deserve it.”
If Benny had his wits about him he would have questioned why she was inviting him to have another drink when she supposedly could not possibly know he had finished the first one, since she was behind the bathroom door. He didn’t catch this clue either.
Two sips into the new drink, Lizzy’s syrupy voice once again came from behind the bathroom door. “Benny?”
“Yes.”
“I really hate to ask you this, but I must have dropped my panties when I was laying out my clothes. Do you see them anywhere?”
“Uh… Uh…” Benny pretended to look around.
“Found them,” he announced.
Lizzy pulled the bathroom door open a little wider than necessary as Benny handed her the panties. She was wrapped in a towel that might have been as big as the one used for the floor so you won’t slip. Again, if Benny had brought his A game, he would have noticed that Lizzy’s hair was not a bit wet and he had not heard a hair dryer.
A few moments later, Lizzy emerged from the bathroom in a thin white summer dress. Benny could see the pink panties through the dress and she caught him looking. He could have sworn she did not have on a bra but was afraid to look twice to check himself.
“Sorry about my outfit mismatch,” she apologized. “I was in such a rush to get out of the house this morning I didn’t think about the faux pas of pink under white.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Benny took a slow drink and tried to avoid staring at her. He had not had any lunch and felt a tingle shoot through his entire body that felt absolutely wonderful.
Lizzy picked up her gin and tonic and held it in front of Benny. “A toast,” she announced.
“A toast,” Benny parroted.
“To the alleviation of my sadness,” Lizzy declared.
“Let your sadness be gone.”
The two clinked glasses and both took long drinks. As Lizzy tilted her head back to take a second drink, Benny took the opportunity to sneak a peek to solve the mystery of the possible missing bra. Case solved—no bra. Flustered by a sharp shift in his hormones when faced with the undeniable beauty of this young woman, Benny downed the rest of his drink.
Now, let’s get one thing straight—Benny never in his mind accused alcohol for his undoing and poor choices. Benny blamed himself, his lack of clarity and focus, and his boy parts.
Seeing his drink finished, Lizzy popped up and slinked over to the silver cart from room service. She too, needed a refill and played bartender with her back purposely to Benny so he could study her without detection. And study her he did. Of course, at one point in the making of the drinks, Lizzy dropped something and had to bend over to pick it up. Benny almost passed out.
Delivering the drinks, Lizzy asked him if he would like to make a toast.
“To your happiness.” Benny held up his beverage.
“Do you mean it?” Lizzy asked.
“Of course,” Benny answered. “I want you to heal from this terrible tragedy and live a happy life.”
“Do you want me to
be happy right now?” Lizzy asked.
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Lizzy pulled her thin white summer dress over her head and tossed it onto the floor. She still had on the pink panties Benny had touched twice. She sat in Benny’s lap without rejection.
“You promised,” she said, rubbing a hand against his chest.
“I did promise,” he answered, fully under her spell.
Benny touched Lizzy’s panties for a third time, and the rest as they say is history.
Chapter 3
Brother Jim woke up in Room 14 of the Tepee King motel in St. Augustine, Florida. He wasn’t sure how he had arrived in the city and didn’t remember checking in to the dive. There was a lipstick smudge he noticed on the white oxford he slept in. He imagined a struggle; he saw in his mind a beautiful young girl’s face scraping his chest.
Jim ripped the shirt off, snapping the buttons as they popped across the bed and onto the floor. He removed his belt and pants and struck each of his naked legs with violent whips. He repeated the actions until the feeling in his legs turned from pain to nothingness. He fell to his knees and prayed.
Jim prayed for guidance, strength, and foresight. He prayed he might make his daddy happy. He prayed for the blackouts to end. After the prayer and self-punishment, Jim turned on the television and found a 24-hour news station.
He wasn’t allowed to watch television. His daddy said the devil created television for sinners. Jim scanned the ceiling for cameras and looked under the bed. He checked behind the shower curtain and peered out the peephole.
Once he felt the room was free of suspicious surveillance, he turned his thoughts to the tube. The anchor spoke of a young girl’s death, and the screen flashed the last picture taken of her in a beauty pageant dress. Jim thought she was lovely. Something about her seemed familiar, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. As he reached for his Bible, the news station played a clip of her, which included her voice. Déjà vu he thought. I’ve heard that voice before.
He turned off the television with a jerk, thinking he heard footsteps outside the draped window. Jim froze and listened. His heart pounded in his ears. Once he was sure the sounds and threat had passed, he relaxed.
Jim’s eyes scanned the room searching for an item to fill a need. He grabbed the comforter off the bed and tried to tear it, but the material was too thick. The sheet was almost old enough and with a few more tatters he might have been able to rip the fabric.
Between the sheet and the comforter was an old brown blanket in pitiful shape. Brother Jim pulled it to him and found a small hole. He pulled at the hole and soon had his entire hand through. Gripping the blanket firmly, he yanked and tore until he had a few strips of material.
He sat down cross-legged on the floor and rocked back and forth with the strips in hand. He began braiding them together saying, “Damn the snakes, damn the serpent. Damn the snakes, damn the serpent.”
He said it again and again until he finished braiding. With his creation almost finished, the last thing he did was to make a final tear in the fabric resembling a forked tongue. Jim sat the braided snake on the bed and said one more time, “Damn the snakes, damn the serpent.”
Getting up off the floor, he spied a book of maps on the crummy excuse for a table. Opening it, Jim noticed all the bridges were circled. He didn’t remember circling them. He didn’t even remember buying or possessing the map book. Frightened, he quickly closed the book. On the front of the atlas a message was written in deep black marker. It said, “Spread the Word.” It was his handwriting.
The word shower popped into his mind and he jumped again thinking he heard a voice. Walking to the shower, he stopped as he saw himself in the mirror above the bathroom sink. His long brown hair glistened with a thin layer of grease. His tangled beard pointed in several directions. His hollow eyes turned his stare away from the mirror. Rings under his sunken eyes told of all the time in recent memory that he could not remember.
In the shower, he soaped up and avoided his genitals. Feeling a sense of relief he washed his hair and shampooed his beard. After cleaning his body with a fierce scrubbing, Brother Jim ran a bath and prayed with the lights off. After the water cooled, he got out and dried his body. His mind filled with shame and anger and fear.
His brain felt as if it was floating inside of itself and he began to speak out loud to himself.
“I’m hungry.”
“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”
“Matthew 6:26,” Jim answered himself.
“I will take care of you.”
“Do you mean us?”
Jim was so confused.
Jim opened the bathroom door and spied a Burger King bag and a cup of steaming liquid sitting on the sink. He hoped it was coffee. He quickly looked left and right but didn’t see a soul. He stood as still as a statue and listened and did not hear a sound other than the distant sound of a highway, which reminded him of the ocean. Jim reached down and snatched the bag and cup from the sink and went back into the bathroom. He made sure the lock was secure and opened the Burger King bag.
Inside the bag he found a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. Wonderfully greasy and hot hash brown bites filled a container, which sat atop a stack of napkins and four packets of ketchup. The smells wafting from the bag had his stomach turning flips of joy. Brother Jim devoured the food and sipped at the hot coffee. After a few bites, with the food calming his stomach and his mind, he exited the bathroom and sat on the bed with his food. He thought about turning on the television but decided not to, wondering who had delivered the food and thinking they might still be near. He wondered if he had brought it to the room himself.
All of a sudden Jim screamed, “Don’t question me!”
His own voice scared him
As he finished the last sip of the coffee, he started to feel what he attributed to the tiredness of a full belly. He sat on the bed and stacked a few pillows behind his back and head. He felt good and started to tingle. The tingle began in his toes and worked its way up his legs. It did circles around his knees, spinning his head in the process. His thoughts slipped to girls and breasts and bare stomachs as the tingle crept up to his genitals. In his mind, his fingers ran through blond hair. His hands caressed the hips of a brunette and just before he was about to disrobe a red-headed gal, he toppled over across the bed and passed out.
Chapter 4
Benny always teased Red that he lived like he only had a couple of bucks in his pocket, when in fact Red had made two pretty significant purchases. The first thing he bought with the money Benny had collected for him was Benny’s house.
Benny had been kidding himself for years that he really lived there when, in actuality, he spent almost all of his nights and time on his houseboat. Benny’s kind heart and the fact that he did not really need the money, allowed Red to acquire the house for a song. Red did play hardball at the closing and made Benny throw in the cat Jezebel, which Benny was glad to do.
Benny had treated Jezebel with nothing but the utmost respect, but she would not give him the time of day. She had never let him pet her or even get close to her. The moment Red entered the house she jumped in his lap and the two were inseparable. She followed him around as if he were the pied piper. He had changed her name to Galaxie, which he insisted she requested after hearing a Blind Melon song with the same name.
At times Benny wondered if he was crazy because he found himself actually thinking that Red and Galaxie could communicate on another level that was terribly abnormal.
The second purchase Red made was the lot next door. The old folks who had lived there were ready to make a life transition to a retirement village in town but didn’t want the hassle of trying to prepare a house for sale, and they did not want to deal with a slew of people coming to view the property. The house was ancien
t and beyond fixing up.
Red knew they were unhappy and, with Benny’s help, made them an offer. They accepted. A week after they moved out, Red had the place bulldozed. In its place and the surrounding area that had been the yard, he created a magnificent garden that was his pride, joy, and his reason for living.
Ned, the local technology nerd who did research for Benny and had become close friends with Red pulled into Red’s driveway. Ned was Red’s seed dealer and closest confidant with all things gardening. Red had been raised by deaf-mute parents, which explained most of his abnormalities and he knew a strange mutation of sign language that he and Ned used along with speech to communicate.
As Ned was about to slam his car door shut, he noticed Red asleep in the middle of his massive garden. The first time Ned witnessed this strange sight he almost called 911, when Benny stopped him and informed him that Red liked to sleep among his vegetables, as he thought it enhanced their growth.
Ned gently shut the door to his car and spied Galaxie lying next to Red. Galaxie spotted Ned and lovingly pawed at Red’s forehead. Red stirred and sat up. He rubbed his face, wiping away the sleep and at the same time smearing dirt all over his tanned face. Benny always said Red looked like a redneck lifeguard. Handsome and country all rolled into one perfect package. Red had brown eyes and brown hair that was longer than most young men his age. His body was lanky but firm and stout like a man who had worked everyday of his life doing something physical. What made it all strange was how he carried himself like a timid monk.
Ned walked slowly toward Red, giving him a moment to wake up and to figure out where he was in the universe. Ned felt a warmth growing inside him as most people did when graced with Red’s company.
