by John Siwicki
Sorry to hear about your troubles, Sam said. We can drive you to the next town. I’m on the way to do a job. I can drop you at an airport, train, or bus station.
That’s another problem, Lori said. If I could fly or take a train, I wouldn’t be hitch-hiking. I don’t have the money for a ticket.
Maybe we can help you out with that, Tom said. Right, Sam?
Yeah, I think so. Let’s think about the best way to get you there. Are you in a hurry to get where you’re going?
Not really, Lori said. Just want to get there. Doesn’t matter how or when.
Would the bus be okay? I think there are more places where you can catch one, probably in the next town, Tom said. I’ll spring for the flight if you like.
I don’t mind taking a bus, Lori said, but I haven’t got enough money for the ticket.
No problem, we’ll take care of the ticket, Tom said. Hell, I’ll pay for the ticket myself. Don’t worry about a thing, he looked at Sam, and asked. Where’s the nearest airport?
I don’t know, maybe the bus is a better idea. There are more bus stations. Might be easier finding one of those.
You guys sure are great, thanks for the help, Lori said. I don’t know what to say.
You don’t have to say anything, Sam said. We’ll help you as much we can.
Just ask, Tom said, and we’ll do our best, our very best, to help you out.
We camped out last night, and feel a little grubby, so we’re going to a hotel tonight. We’ll get you a room, Sam said.
A hot shower sounds great.
What kind of music do you like? Sam asked. I’ve got a collection of CDs. Have a look and pick out something.
Tom took the CD case, and handed it to Lori. Okay back there?
Fine, just fine. You’ve got some nice music here.
Choose one, and there’s some beer in the cooler.
Here’s one I like, Lori said, and handed it to Tom.
Jimi Hendrix, Sam said, surprised.
I play a little guitar, Lori said. He’s still the guy all the players listen to.
Yes, he’s still the man all right.
No one’s close.
Red House started playing, and everyone sat back to enjoy the noise.
What do you do, Sam? Lori asked.
I’m a photographer. Got a job at Alan Rogers’ Architectural School, then heading down to Chicago to shoot some of his buildings there. The pictures are for a magazine that’s doing a story on him. I just lucked out getting the job. The editor saw my pictures when he drove by my studio. He liked them, and hired me.
Come on, Sam. You’re a great photographer, Tom said.
Get paid a lot for something like that? Lori asked.
Sam turned, and smiled at Lori. I bid the job, so that’s all I get.
Is it a lot?
Well, I don’t know if it’s what you’d call a lot, Sam said. I calculated all of my expenses and time. Be out a couple of weeks, with food, gas, and miscellaneous expenses, I told them I’d do the job for five thousand dollars.
That’s pretty good for a few week’s work, Lori said.
You’re welcome to tag along, see the school before you catch the bus home. It’s a nice place, and well worth a look, I think.
Okay, but I don’t want to get in the way.
It’ll be fun to have you along.
Have you guys known each other a long time?
Sam and Tom were silent, waiting for the other to say something, until Sam said, This guy’s an old friend, and used to cut my hair when I was a kid. He came along for the ride, and to keep me company.
How far is it to this place where you have to take the pictures? Lori asked.
Not far, we’ll be there today. The town’s called Ellsworth. Tomorrow I’ll shoot all day, after that head to Chicago to take more pictures of his architecture. I wanted to go to Florida to see Earnest Hemmingway’s house in Key West, and take some pictures there, but there’s no time. We’ll get a couple of rooms in Ellsworth, hit the sack early tonight, then head for the architectural school. Maybe I can use you guys in some of the shots.
There’s a hotel up ahead, Tom said.
Sam pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. Here we are, Roadside Inn, he said as he looked up at the sign. They watched the red neon light race around in circles.
It was a long one-story white building with a gravel parking lot. The rooms all had numbers on the doors, and a window to one side. There was a pick-up truck with an empty cattle wagon in the parking lot, and a few more cars in front of the office.
I’ll take care of getting the rooms. You guys staying here, or coming in?
I’ll wait here, Tom said. Going with Sam, Lori?
I’ll stay too, but get out, and stretch a bit.
Be right back, you guys hang tight.
The hotel had a small swimming pool outside near the parking lot, and some vending machines near the office with some green plants in the window.
Sam walked into the office to register, and nodded at the guy sitting behind the counter. Hi, I’d like a single room, and a double room, for tonight and tomorrow.
Can you fill out this card?
Okay. Do you know how far Alan Rogers’ place is from here?
The architect’s place? Take the highway south out of town and follow the signs. It’s a popular place. Just keep up with the crowd, and you’ll find it. Here are the room keys. If you need anything, just ask. You’re all set. Have a good night.
Thanks, Sam said.
As Sam walked to the car he saw Tom and Lori talking, getting more and more sociable, like two old friends catching up after a long time.
Got the rooms. We’re next to each other, 101 and 102. We’re lucky because we won’t have to carry our stuff far. Let’s unpack, and get some dinner. Hungry, Lori?
Yeah, but don’t have the money to indulge.
Our treat, Tom said. It’s all on us.
I hope you guys aren’t expecting me to pay you back.
No, no, no, you need to eat—we need to eat, and we want to help you get home, that’s all, Tom said.
I don’t know what to say. Running into you guys has been the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Lori took Tom by the collar, kissed him, then stepped back. I don’t know what came over me, she said. Tom was pleasantly surprised. Then she leaned over and kissed Sam on the cheek.
He smiled. Let’s go eat.
HOTEL
After Sam got settled in his room he went to see Lori. He knocked on the door. Almost ready? We’re heading out soon. Still coming along?
Door’s open. Come in, Lori said.
He stood in the room near the open door. Ready to go? Sam asked again, then closed the door.
Yeah, almost, don’t have much to put away, Lori said, as she came out of the bathroom.
Need help with anything?
Not really. I just have the one bag, but I’d like to wash some things. I remember seeing a sign with something about a washing machine and dryer near the office when we checked in. Is there time to do laundry in the morning?
Sam eyed the chair next to the door, sat down, then watched Lori unpack her things, and sort them into neat little folded piles on the bed.
We’ve got to leave early tomorrow morning. Have to catch the early sun for the shots at the school. You can wash your clothes tonight after we get back from dinner. You should have enough time then. I’ll help you.
Okay, that’s what I’ll do, Lori said. I’ll wait until after we get back.
What kind of food do like? Sam asked.
Anything’s okay. I’m not so fussy after being on the road for such a long time.
Okay, let’s ask Tom what he’d like to have for dinner, Sam said. After he gets out of the shower.
That’s what I’d like to do, take a shower, Lori said.
I won’t bother you anymore, and wait outside. I can ask the clerk if he knows a good place to eat.
You’re not bothering
me, and I’m grateful for the help. I’d still be walking on the side of the road if you hadn’t picked me up.
Sam started to get up, but decided to stay in the chair. You’re a nice girl. I’m glad we can help you out.
Thanks, you are too, Sam. I mean, a nice guy.
I still can’t figure why you’re not on the cover of a magazine.
On the cover of a magazine? Me? Lori said, then turned quickly, and looked at Sam.
You’re beautiful, and your voice is silky like an angel. You should be in the movies.
I’m just a country girl from the middle of nowhere.
A beautiful country girl from somewhere, Sam said. I’m a photographer, and I know beauty when I see it.
Do you have a girlfriend?
Sam was quiet for a moment. Yes.
What’s her name?
Esther.
Esther, that’s a nice name. How long have you known each other?
We met on the playground at school. It’s a day I’ll never forget. I was standing at the bottom of the slippery slide, and she was coming down. I was mesmerized when I saw her come down the slide. We raced to a big old oak tree on the playground, and she almost beat me. She could run really fast.
Lori smiled. So, you’ve had a long engagement. Is marriage in the future?
Yeah, I’ve been holding out. Don’t know why.
Then time seemed to stop. Sam imagined Lori say, You’re sweet, Sam. In his mind he watched her sashay up to his chair, lean over, and show a good share of skin from under her low cut tight t-shirt. He smiled. She straddled his lap face to face.
Do you love her?
Yeah, he whispered.
Frozen from the breathtaking view, and their eyes fixed on each other after a long silent moment, she kissed him. His eyes moved from her body to her moist lips. They stared at each other locked by some invisible force and kissed again. Lori dropped into Sam’s lap. She stroked his hair and face. Sam’s hands moved around her waist, up her spine, back down around her stomach, then up and over her chest.
Sam, Lori whispered.
Yes, he moaned.
Nothing else was said. There was only heavy breathing like steam engines climbing the Rocky Mountains. Lori squirmed on top of Sam’s lap, resting on him like a cat getting comfortable. Their hands moved over each other’s taut muscles. As the chair rocked, and squeaked, it seemed to shrink in size.
We should move to the bed, she said.
Sam kicked off his shoes. Tom’s waiting, he said, while holding her in a tight grip.
Hungry, Sam, Lori said, then kissed him.
You never told me what you wanted to eat.
Anything’s fine with me, steak, fish, chicken, Lori said.
Their eyes closed, they moaned. Sam pulled her T-shirt up and off. Now unclad from the waist up, Sam’s hands gently touched her bosom like a sculptor creating a work of art, then rested his face on her chest. Their breathing became synchronized as she reached under his shirt, then he unbuttoned, and dragged it off of his shoulders as they merged.
Sam grabbed Lori, he stood, holding her like it was their wedding night carrying her across the threshold. He walked to the bed, put her down gently, caressed, and kissed her one more time. You’re an angel.
I’m sure it’ll all work out, Lori said.
Sam awoke from the dream-like-trance. What the hell was that, he thought. It seemed so real. Letting out a gasp as he watched Lori on the bed from the chair. His photographic eye framing a picture of her as she got up, and walked into the bathroom.
I’ll wait for you outside, Sam said. Take your time.
Sam walked out of Lori’s room dizzy, his head in the clouds. A man lost in the jungle like Marlow in Joe Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.
Tom was leaning on the front fender of the car smiling at Sam when he came out of Lori’s room. You still hungry?
Starving, and bet you’re thirsty, Sam said.
You have to get something to eat and replenish your body for tomorrow. It’s hard work pushing a camera button.
You’re a pain in the ass, Sam said. I’m going over to the office, and find out when we can use the washer and dryer.
Good idea, I’ll wait here for Lori. Wouldn’t want her to get worried wondering where you went.
Yeah, yeah, ok, you old fart. I’ll be right back.
Sam went into the hotel’s office. It was empty, dimly lit with just a desk lamp turned on and a half burned cigarette in an astray sending smoke signals up to the ceiling. Sam looked around, then noticed a crisp, freshly printed book on the counter. What’s this about? he wondered. He picked it up and read the title, How to Live - When you’re dying. He opened the first page, and read the first line. First, and most important—stop the bleeding, second, relax, don’t get excited, and remain calm. You can’t change what’s just happened, so don’t make it worse. This book could come in handy..
Then the hotel clerk walked into the lobby. What can I do for you? They stared at each other a moment, then the desk clerk stepped behind the counter.
Sam closed the book, He looks like the clerk at the store I used to go to in the morning before school, and put it on the counter. Hi, I’d like to wash some clothes, he said. Can I use the washing machine and dryer anytime?
Sure, if it’s not being used anyone.
Thanks. Sam said. Is this your book?
Yes, it is. I just got it.
Is it any good?
I just started reading it this morning.
Is it a self-help book? I read the first few sentences, and it seems like that kind of book.
I think so, but it has a story.
What’s the story about?
A mystery about someone in deep trouble, and they need medical attention or will die? I don’t want to ruin it by telling you the ending. You might read it some day, so I won’t say anymore. But yeah, you’re right, it follows the life of someone who’s in serious trouble, and has to make a decision quickly, or suffer the consequences.
Actually, when I looked at the first page I thought it was some kind of a first aid book.
It is in a way, the clerk said. And it starts out by telling people what to do first when they’re in trouble. You know—things like the first step to take. If you don’t take the first step, or do what is necessary, you can’t move forward. You languish, than die!
That’s a pretty simple concept, Sam said. But simple things are usually the most complicated.
You’re right there, the hotel clerk said. Take a virus. It’s simple, but complex, always changing, never remaining in its original form.
Change is important, Sam said, but we can’t change unless we have information, knowledge, and what steps to take.
That’s why people write books, the clerk said, to pass on information.
I’ll have to give it a read sometime, thanks.
Sam left the lobby, his mind blank, wondering why he’d gone there, then remembered it was to ask about the washing machine. He didn’t see Tom in their room, so he headed over to Lori’s room. He knocked on the door, and was surprised when Tom opened it sporting a big grin.
You look happy, Sam said. Drinking again?
No, I’m waiting. Just killing time with Lori until we eat, Tom said. The joy on my face is from the company I keep.
Sam looked at Tom. Lori or me?
Both of you, Tom said. Both of you.
Are you ready?
I am, Tom said. She’s a nice girl. Do you like her?
I do, Sam said. There’s something about her that makes me feel alive.
I know exactly what you mean, Tom said. She makes me feel the same way.
Lori came out of the bathroom singing. She had a soulful voice, growling, passionate, and full of life.
That a nice song, Sam said.
“Me and Bobby McGee,” she said.
I know, I like it, Sam said.
That song was written by Kris Kristofferson, Tom said, way back when. Janis Joplin sang a version that w
as huge.
I think I have her CD, Sam said. We can listen to it on the way to the restaurant, or better yet, you sing it, Lori.
You know, I feel like I’m going to a party. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way. Just been on the road so long, or it seems like forever. Anyway, I think I’m going to cry.
No crying tonight, Sam said. We’ll find a nice place to eat and have fun.
You sit in the front, Lori, Tom said, and I’ll sit in the back.
I can’t let you do that, Lori said, but Tom hopped in the back seat, leaving her standing there with no other choice.
You heard the man, Sam said. You’re sitting in the front seat.
I guess I am, she said.
Sam turned to Tom, who smiled at Sam, then winked. Well, what are we waiting for. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving, and thirsty.
Sam started the car, and they drove off down the road, and turned onto what looked like Main Street.
RESTAURANT
The street lights were glowing, the night air carried the aroma of something good cooking, and laughter sang happy from the people on the street. Off in the distance on the right, Sam spotted a country club. It was a big classic log cabin with glowing white lights strung around it. The lights dangled from an overhang and skirted the deck of the structure. Should we check it out? Sam asked.
Looks nice, Lori said.
Okay, let’s have a look, Sam said, then turned, and headed down a long tree-lined driveway that led to a parking lot. Parked in a row just beyond the pro shop were some electric golf carts all lined up nice and pretty, and nearby was an oversized practice green.
You play golf? Tom asked.
In high school I did, Sam replied, and I play a few times a year, but I’m just a hack. In my mind I imagine the ball flying straight and far, but I slice and hook. Can’t chip onto the green either. I always hit the ball too hard, or not hard enough. Feel like I’m playing in a storm with no control.
Let’s drive around and check it out, Tom said.
Look how everyone is dressed, Tom said. They circled the parking lot a couple of times and parked.
Everyone’s in formal clothes. Must be a special occasion. There’s a guy talking to the crowd in front of the club house, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.
