THE GLORY BUS 6 страница

Giving Pamela an odd lopsided smile, he lifted the hat off his head. ‘Name’s Hank, ’ he said. ‘Honorary mayor of Pits, chief guide, Man Friday, you name it and I’m it. Hank. ’

‘I’m Pamela. ’

‘Yer a dish. ’ He winked.

‘Thanks. ’

‘A real hot tuh-matuh. ’

‘Well. . . ’

Hank narrowed an eye. ‘Show you my pits? ’

Trying to smile, she shook her head. ‘Not right now. ’

‘It’s my job. Chief guide. How about the Dillinger Death Car? Wanna see her? ’ He pointed at the rusted ruin of an ancient automobile near a far corner of the lot.

‘Is that it? ’ Pamela asked.

‘Yessiree. Wanna see her? ’

‘Maybe later. ’

‘Don’t miss her. ’

She couldn’t help but smile. ‘Is that really the Dillinger Death Car? ’ It certainly looked like a vehicle that might’ve been around back in the 1930s.

‘You can see the bullet holes, ’ Hank said, and winked. ‘The baby’s peppered with ’em. ’

‘Are you trying to trick me? ’

‘How d’ya mean, there? ’

‘You’re talking about John Dillinger? ’

‘None but. ’

‘I don’t think he was in a car when he was killed. ’

‘Ya don’t, huh? ’

‘I think he was standing outside the Biograph Theater in Chicago. ’

‘Haw! ’ Hank reached out and clutched her shoulder. ‘Can’t fool you! Nosirree! You’re a smart cookie, yes, you are! I like you. ’

‘Thanks. ’

He leaned in close to her. As if sharing a dark secret, he said, ‘You got no idea how many plug-fuck ignoramuses come along here and believe every dang thing I tell ’em. No idea! ’ He cackled. Then he stepped back, scowled, and nodded. ‘That ain’t no Dillinger Death Car. It’s the Jesse James Death Car! ’

Surprised, Pamela found laughter bursting out of her. She was even more surprised to find herself reaching out and slapping Hank on his shoulder. A puff of dust rose off his shirt.

‘What’s your name? ’ he demanded. Hadn’t she already told him?

‘Pamela. ’

‘Pamela! Good for you!

‘Well, thanks. ’

‘Ya gonna stay? ’

She shrugged. ‘For a while, maybe. ’

‘Good deal! I stayed. Aim to keep stayin’, too, till the day I go toes-up and then I’m gonna have ’em plant me over yonder on Boot Hill with the dogs and monkeys. Been here since seventy-two. ’

‘That’s a long time. ’

‘You betcha! ’

Lauren came riding around a far corner of the gas station office. She was on the front seat of a bicycle built for two.

‘Hank! ’ she called out. ‘Have you been bothering the lady? ’

He cackled. ‘Making a plug-fuck nuisance outta myself, and you know it. ’

Lauren pedaled toward them, a big smile on her face. ‘Hank is an inveterate bushwhacker. We keep him around to scare the children off. ’

‘Haw! ’

‘Are you one of the “pop six”? ’ Pamela asked him.

‘You better betcha, baby! ’

‘Which are you? ’

He winked. ‘Some folks take me for number two. ’

‘You’re terrible! ’

‘Ain’t I? ’

Lauren stopped her bike just beyond Hank. She put her feet on the ground and held the bike steady by its front set of handlebars. ‘Climb on aboard, Pamela, and I’ll pedal you over to the cafe. ’

‘Well. . . okay. ’ She limped toward the bike’s second seat. ‘Nice to meet you, Hank. ’

‘You know it! ’

Laughing, she shook her head.

Hank stepped backward, out of the way. He leaned against the rear of the bus and watched her mount the bike.

‘Don’t be no stranger, ’ he said.

‘See you around, Hank. Mayor Hank. ’

He guffawed so loud she thought he’d up-’n-out of one of his lungs.

‘Ready? ’ Lauren asked. ‘Here we go. ’

They both pushed at the ground to get the bike rolling. Then they put their feet on the pedals and started to pump.

‘Beats walking, ’ Pamela admitted. ‘I was afraid you might show up with a wheelchair or something. ’

‘Nope. ’

From behind them came a raspy, almost tuneless voice singing, ‘Mademoiselles got derriè res, whoop-de-doo. Mademoiselles got—’

Cheerfully, Lauren called over her shoulder, ‘Put a lid on it, you raunchy old sidewinder! ’

‘Pardonnez-moi! ’ Hank yelled.

Lauren glanced back at Pamela, smiled, then faced forward. ‘He’s about as addled as they come, ’ she said.

‘I sort of like him. ’

‘Well, I’m glad to hear it. ’

‘Is he really the mayor of Pits? ’

‘He’s pretty much whoever he says he is, I guess. ’

A dusty old pickup truck swung off the highway and rolled slowly across the dirt. It seemed to be heading for the cafe. Lauren raised an arm and waved. The driver tooted his horn. He stopped in the midst of fifteen or twenty other vehicles that were scattered about near the cafe: an odd assortment of cars, trucks, vans, and even a couple of motorcycles. Some looked fairly new and roadworthy, but quite a few didn’t seem to be in much better shape than the Dillinger/James Death Car.

Lauren dodged several as she and Pamela pedaled toward the cafe.

They glided very close to the remains of an old Pontiac. It had no windows. Pamela felt heat coming out of it. A smelly heat that made her think of melting rubber. On the dashboard was a plastic Jesus.

The plastic Jesus looked almost new.

Parked near the front entrance of the cafe was a Toyota Land Cruiser, its cargo space loaded with luggage.

They steered past it. Then Lauren swerved away from the cafe door, braked, and lowered her feet to the ground. She held the bike steady while Pamela dismounted. After that, she leaned it against a stucco wall.

The man from the pickup swung the door open for them. He looked like a younger version of Hank, but with better teeth, whiskers instead of a full beard, and a fairly presentable outfit – cowboy hat, plaid shirt, blue jeans and boots. Smiling, he lifted his hat.

‘Thank you, ’ Pamela said as she entered.

‘Mah pleasure, ma’am. Howdy, Lauren. ’

‘Howdy, Wes. This is Pamela. Sharpe just now brought her in. ’

Wes followed them into the cafe. ‘Reckon yer a lucky gal, ’ he told her. To Lauren he said, ‘She’s, what, the seventh? ’

‘Yep. ’

‘Sharpe’s got himself a long ways to go. ’

‘Afraid so. ’

‘Pleasure to meet ya, Pamela. ’

‘Nice to meet you, Wes. ’

He sauntered toward the counter.

Pamela saw four other customers at the counter. A family with two kids sat at one of the booths, an elderly couple at another, and a group of four teenagers at a corner booth. There were several wooden tables scattered about the area between the booths and the L-shaped counter but they weren’t being used. ‘Would you like a booth? ’ Lauren asked.

‘That’d be fine. ’

Lauren led her to one at the front of the cafe. They slid in across from each other. The table between them had a green Formica top and looked clean. A couple of menus were propped up behind the napkin holder. Lauren took them and handed one to Pamela.

‘We’ve got good food here. Terry’s a whiz in the kitchen. Sharpe brought him in, and he stayed. Our vittles were mighty poor till he showed up. ’

‘Has Sharpe brought in everybody? ’

Smiling slightly, Lauren shook her head. ‘Terry’s the only one who’s stayed. He didn’t have anywhere better to go and found out he liked it here. ’

‘Wes said something about me being the seventh. ’

‘There were six before you. ’

‘Six what? ’

‘People Sharpe has saved since he started the mission. ’

‘Saved? ’

‘Like you. ’ Lauren turned her head and smiled at the approaching waitress. ‘Nicki, I want you to meet Pamela. Sharpe saved her today. ’

‘Hey, great! ’ Nicki beamed. ‘He’s moving right along. ’

‘I’ll be an old lady in a wheelchair, ’ Lauren said.

‘No, you won’t! ’ Nicki set down the water glasses and reached a hand toward Pamela. ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance, ’ she said as they shook.

Nicki looked as if she belonged in a ski lodge, not in a cafe in the middle of the Mojave Desert. Her blonde hair was arranged in a braided ponytail behind and a thick curtain of bangs in front. The bangs hung almost to her pale blue eyes. Her face had a Nordic look, in spite of its dark tan.

She wore a knit pullover shirt similar to the one that Pamela had taken from the dummy in the bus. Nicki’s was white, not lime green, and had her name in red stitches above her left breast. It appeared to be a few sizes larger than Pamela’s, too. Filled with mounds and curves and slopes.

Around Nicki’s waist was a blue apron with pockets for her order pad and tips. It hung down like a very short skirt, ending just above the cuffs of her shorts. The shorts were bright red. They looked snug around her thighs.

‘Ready to order? ’ she asked.

‘Give us a few more minutes, ’ Lauren said.

‘Can I bring you something to drink while you’re deciding? ’

‘Do you have beer? ’ Pamela asked.

‘You bet. ’ Nicki flashed her white teeth. ‘All we got’s Bud, but tha

t suits most folks. ’

‘That’s fine. ’

‘One for me, too, ’ Lauren said.

‘You got it. ’ Nicki headed for the counter.

‘She seems nice, ’ Pamela said.

‘A good kid. But she drives Terry crazy. He’s got it really bad for her but she won’t have a thing to do with him. ’

Pamela felt a quick shiver. Rodney and me.

‘A thing like that can be dangerous, ’ she said.

‘Keeps the place lively. ’ A corner of Lauren’s mouth tilted upward. ‘We’ll have to make up some sort of billboard about this place being a “passion pit. ” You just wouldn’t believe all the lust and unrequited love we’ve got around here. ’

Shaking her head, Pamela made a wry half-smile of her own. ‘That’s how I got here, I guess. A guy had the hots for me and wouldn’t let it go. Killed my husband, ’ she added quickly.

The last three words were enough to shut her throat and fill her eyes with tears. Across the table, Lauren blinked. She pressed her lips together. They formed a tight, straight line. Leaning forward, she reached out and squeezed Pamela’s hand.

‘Nothing bad’ll happen to you here. We take care of each other, and you’re welcome to stay just as long as you want. ’

Chapter Twelve

Pamela cried softly, head down, trying to stop. Hoping that everyone in the cafe wasn’t staring at her. Lauren kept hold of her hand, and said nothing.

Nicki showed up with the beer. She set two frosty glass mugs on the table. Then she put a hand on Pamela’s shoulder. Pamela looked up at her.

‘Whatever it is, ’ Nicki said, ‘I’m sure sorry. You gonna be all right? ’

‘She’s been through some rough times, ’ Lauren said. ‘That beer’s bound to help. ’

Nodding, Pamela murmured, ‘Thanks. ’ She sniffed. With the back of her hand, she wiped her eyes. ‘I haven’t. . . had a chance to look at the menu. ’

‘No problem. ’

‘Do you like burgers? ’ Lauren asked.

Pamela nodded.

‘Get her a Pitsburger Deluxe and chili cheese fries. Same for me. ’

Nicki let go of Pamela’s shoulder and started to turn away. Before she could leave, Pamela said, ‘I don’t. . . have any money. ’ She sniffed again. ‘Where’s Sharpe? ’

‘He’ll be along. ’

‘He said he’d pay. ’

‘Don’t worry about anybody paying, ’ Lauren told her. ‘I own the joint. ’

‘The cafe? ’

‘Everything. ’

‘Oh. Neat. ’ Pamela lifted the heavy mug and drank some beer. The beer was very cold.

‘We like it here, ’ Lauren said.

‘Pop six? ’

‘That’s me, Hank, Nicki, Terry, and Sharpe when he isn’t on the road. ’

‘That only makes five. ’

‘Six is just sort of a general estimate. ’

Pamela laughed. It felt strange to laugh when she was hardly done crying. She wiped her eyes again and drank some more beer. It quenched the fire in her throat.

‘We can’t go changing everything each time we have a minor fluctuation in our population. ’

‘I guess not. ’

‘It stays roughly in the area of five or six, and none of us are sticklers for detail. Besides, as long as you and Sharpe hang around, we’ve got our full complement. ’ Lauren lifted her mug. It left a wet ring on the tabletop. Most of the frost on its sides had melted, leaving the mug clear and dripping. But a few small white patches slipped down its exterior like the last remnants of snow sliding down a car’s windshield. When she lifted the mug toward her mouth, the bottom of it dripped cold drops of water onto the front of her white dress. She didn’t seem to notice.

With the rim at her lips, she sucked at the frothy head. Then she tipped the mug back and drank.

In a way, Lauren seemed too willowy and ethereal to be drinking a mug of beer. A delicate glass of white wine might’ve been more appropriate. On the other hand, a hefty mug of beer seemed just about right for the Lauren who was weathered, gaunt and earthy. Somehow she seemed like two different people rolled into one. The first delicate, fey, spirit-like, the second – the outer shell – made tough by life: strong enough to fight back if fighting was required.

Lauren set the mug back down on the table, smiled at it, and rubbed the back of a brown hand across her lips. ‘You’re welcome to stay, ’ she said. ‘You can sleep in Mosby’s trailer. He hasn’t got any use for it. ’

‘Well. . . thank you. I don’t know. ’

‘Sharpe won’t be going anywhere tonight, if that’s what you’re wondering about. He’ll probably stick around for a day or two – longer, if I have any say in things. ’ Lauren raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you in a rush to get home? ’

‘He burned it. Rodney. The man who killed my husband. The house is gone. My home. Everything. ’ Pamela stared at her beer and struggled not to start crying again.

‘Pamela? Do you have family? ’

‘In Chicago. ’ She took a drink. The mug dripped onto the front of her pullover. The drops felt ice-cold. ‘I don’t want to go there. My job. . . I work in LA. ’

‘What do you do? ’

‘Just. . . I’m a teacher. A substitute. ’

‘Oh, dear God. A sub in Los Angeles? That must be about the nearest thing to hell on earth. ’

‘It’s not much fun. It’s a way to work into a. . . a real teaching position. You know, you get your foot in the door. Jim had a good job, though, so. . . I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ve gotta go back. I mean, that’s where I live, and guess I’ll have to find an apartment, or something. ’

‘It doesn’t sound as if you’ve got much to go back to. ’

‘Well, not much. ’

‘Sharpe’ll drive you back to LA when he’s ready to go, if that’s what you want. But there’s no law that says you’ve gotta go with him. You can stay here just as long as you want. I’d recommend it for a while, anyway, after what you’ve gone through. It’s peaceful here. It’s a good place for getting over troubles. ’

‘Thanks. I don’t know. . . ’

‘Play it by ear. But figure on staying tonight, at least. I always keep Mosby’s trailer up in case of company. ’

‘Okay. Thanks. ’ Pamela looked out the window. Long shadows stretched across the dirt lot in front of the cafe. ‘Where do you suppose Sharpe is? ’

‘Oh, he’ll be in my trailer taking a shower, I guess. That’s usually the first thing he does when he comes back. ’

‘He told me he lives in the bus. ’

‘His bus doesn’t have a shower. ’

Pamela glanced at Lauren’s hands to double-check. No rings. But she supposed that didn’t prove anything; Lauren didn’t seem to be wearing any jewelry at all.

‘Are you and Sharpe married? ’

‘Afraid not. ’

‘But you’re. . . something? ’

‘I guess we’re something, all right. ’

Pamela waited. When Lauren didn’t go on, she decided not to push. She drank some more beer instead. The mug dripped chilly water onto her.

She put the mug down.

Across the table Lauren sat motionless, one hand on her own beer mug, her eyes lowered and staring blankly, her straw-colored eyebrows drawn together just enough to carve a pair of small grooves into the skin between them. It’s my fault, Pamela thought. I shouldn’t have asked about Sharpe. I must’ve hit a sore spot.

Bumbled right into it.

Should’ve known better.

One of those ‘unrequited love’ things she was talking about, probably.

‘Are you okay? ’ Pamela asked.

‘Huh? Sorry. What did you say? ’

‘Is something wrong? ’

‘No. No. I wonder what’s keeping the burgers. ’ Lauren flashed a smile at Pamela. ‘Maybe I’ll have to give someone the boot. ’

‘It hasn’t been so long. ’

‘But you must be starving. ’ Lauren peered off across the cafe, her eyes narrow. ‘Ah, here they come now. ’

Turning, Pamela saw Nicki hurry around the end of the counter with a big loaded tray.

‘I’m going to marry Sharpe, ’ Lauren said.

Pamela looked at her, surprised.

The other woman nodded, smiling. ‘Soon as he’s done with his mission. By then, of course, I’ll probably be an ugly old hairless hag. . . and too old to have babies. ’ As she spoke the last part, her smile trembled and her eyes suddenly brimmed with tears.

Nicki arrived at their booth and began to unload the food. ‘That’s two Pitsburger Deluxes, chili cheese fries. . . Lauren? ’ Nicki crouched slightly and peered into her boss’s eyes. ‘What’s the matter, honey? ’

‘Just the usual. ’

‘Damn that man. ’

‘Don’t say that. He can’t help it. ’

‘He sure can help it, too. Jesus H. Christ, there’s no excuse. The dead don’t mean squat. Somebody oughta tell him that. ’

‘He has to do it. ’

‘Bullshit, if you’ll pardon my French. ’

Lauren fixed her wet-eyed gaze on Pamela. ‘He saved your life, didn’t he? ’

‘Sharpe? Yes. ’

‘What sort of danger were you in? ’

‘Rodney. . . ’ Pamela looked at Nicki, then back at Lauren. ‘He was going to kill me. He killed my husband last night. ’

‘Oh, God, ’ Nicki muttered.

‘And he. . . threatened he’d do a lot of things to me. Anyway, then he kidnapped me. He wanted to take me to a place in the desert, but I sort of escaped. Almost. The thing is, he finally got me down on the ground and stuck a pistol in my mouth. I’d hurt him bad. He was going to kill me. I mean, he would’ve pulled the trigger in about one more second. And suddenly he got shot in the head. Sharpe shot him right in the middle of the forehead. ’

‘Wow, ’ Nicki said.

Lauren simply nodded. Then she turned to Nicki. ‘See? It’s not exactly bullshit. If it hadn’t been for Sharpe and his mission, Pamela’d be food for buzzards about now. Instead, she’s about to partake of a Pitsburger Deluxe. ’

‘Well, ’ Nicki said. ‘I know. It’s just maddening, though, that’s all. ’

‘I’ve noticed, ’ Lauren said.

Nicki shook her head at Pamela. ‘It�

� s not that I’m not really glad he saved your life. I mean, that’s great. But he’s just so obsessed, and here’s poor Lauren who loves him like crazy, but off he goes anyhow just as if he didn’t give a rat’s hairy behind, if you know what I mean, and one of these days he’ll probably wind up getting himself killed. . . ’

‘Stop it, ’ Lauren told her.

‘Well, it’s just so maddening. ’

‘Don’t you have some other customers you might want to go and bother, Nicole? ’

Nicki rolled her eyes upward. ‘Well, I suppose so. ’

Lauren reached out and squeezed her forearm. ‘Get out of here, okay? ’

‘Somebody oughta pound some sense into that lunkhead, that’s all. ’

‘Go. ’

‘I’m going, I’m going. ’ Nicki stepped backward with the empty tray. ‘I’m just saying he oughta think about you, for a change, and quit—’

‘Hey! ’

‘Okay, okay. ’ Nicki shrugged at Pamela, smiled at both the women, then turned around and hurried off.

Lauren was the next to shrug at Pamela. ‘Better dig in, ’ she said. ‘All this talk, our food’s gonna get cold. ’

‘Yeah. ’

‘Eat it. ’

Pamela looked down at her meal. A Pitsburger Deluxe and chili cheese fries.

The fries were hidden completely beneath thick blankets of chili and melted yellow cheese. So much steam curled off the concoction that Pamela knew she’d be risking a mouth burn if she didn’t wait a few minutes before taking a taste. She turned her attention to the Pitsburger.

The bun was nearly as large as the plate. Its top was brown, shiny, and striped with dark grill marks. Lettuce leaves and curls of onion stuck out beneath the bun’s top, but only here and there, not enough to hide the crispy edges of the hamburger patty.

Edges that dripped with cheese.

‘It sure looks good, ’ Pamela said, and had to shut her mouth quickly to prevent drool from spilling out.

‘Just wait’ll you sink your teeth in, ’ Lauren said. ‘The patty’s partly sausage, by the way. It’s my recipe. A mixture of ground beef and sausage. ’

‘Ah. Sounds great. ’

Pamela needed both hands to pick up her Pitsburger Deluxe. The bun felt both slippery and crisp under her fingertips. Afraid of losing it, she tightened her hold before biting in. Warm juices and cheese spilled down her palms and wrists.

She opened her mouth wide and took her first bite. Her teeth crunched through the bun, lettuce and onions, then sank into the meat. A wonderful assortment of sweet, tangy flavors filled her mouth.

Moaning with pleasure, Pamela began to chew.

Chapter Thirteen

When Boots bit into her hamburger, red juice dribbled down her chin.

‘Are you sure that thing’s done enough? ’ Norman asked.

Chewing, she turned her burger around and showed it to him. The inside of the patty looked like a raw, bloody wound. The sight of it disgusted Norman.

‘You oughta have them cook it some more, ’ he said. ‘You could catch a disease, or something. ’

‘This is just how I like it, ’ Boots said, her words muffled. She opened her mouth wide. It was full of mushy, partly chewed burger.

Norman looked away.

Boots laughed. ‘You’re funny, ’ she said. She ran the back of her hand across her chin to stop the dribble. When she lowered her hand, her chin was shiny.

She’s so repulsive. Norman thought.

Right. But here I am.

Back at the beach parking lot, hours ago and fifty miles north of where they now sat eating supper, he’d had a perfect chance to get away from her and Duke. He could’ve driven off and never seen either of them again. But what had he done? He’d shut off the engine and gone to the back of the Cherokee and searched through his luggage until he found his swimming trunks.

In the back seat, where Boots had changed into her tiny little knitted bikini, he’d taken off his shorts and underwear and put on his trunks. Then he’d hurried back to where Boots and Duke were sitting on their beach towels.

‘Thought you were gonna split on us, ’ Duke had said, smiling.

‘It crossed my mind. But I just couldn’t drive off and leave you two stranded. Thought it would’ve been a dirty trick. ’

‘Like we don’t know how come you came back, ’ Boots had said. Tongue protruding between her lips, she’d somehow made her breasts hop and shake inside the flimsy bikini – without apparently moving the rest of her body.

‘That isn’t why. ’

‘Like fun. ’

‘Glad to have you back, bud, ’ Duke had said. ‘It don’t matter how come you stuck, just matters you done the right thing. ’

The right thing, my ass.

The one thing certain to Norman, as he’d sat down on his towel and picked up his beer, was that sticking with these two had not been the right thing. It was probably the least right thing he’d ever done. He should’ve driven away.

He’d come back to them only because of Boots, because of her knitted bikini, because of what he’d been able to see through its artful holes.

And because he’d wanted to be there when it came time to work the suntan oil into her sun-heated skin.

Sitting across from her now in the diner, Norman shifted uncomfortably as he remembered.

Soon after his return to the beach, Boots had squirted the coconut oil onto her palm and spread it on the front of her body. It had a strong, sweet scent. Her hand had slipped underneath the bikini – both the top and the bottom – and Norman had been able to watch it through the meshwork of black yarn. Watch it slick her skin with shiny oil. Watch it linger inside the bikini, fingertips roaming and stroking as she glanced from Norman to Duke with her lazy, blank eyes.

Done, she’d sprawled on her back. Legs apart. Hands folded beneath her head.

Gleaming in the sunlight from face to feet. He was sure he could see her—

‘What? ’ Boots asked, lowering her hamburger.

‘Nothing. ’

‘Tell. ’ She smiled, but she didn’t look amused. ‘You’re thinking about me, aren’t you? ’

‘Yeah, I guess so. About the beach. ’

‘I knew it. ’ She took another bite of her hamburger. After a few chews, she said, ‘Probably spoiled yer eyes, you was staring at me so hard. ’

‘Well. . . ’

‘I was gonna let you do my back, but then you went and walked off. How come you walked off? ’

I was about to explode, that’s why. ‘I just felt like taking a walk, ’ he said.

‘Duke was kinda rough. He kinda hurt me. Hope he didn’t leave no bruises. ’

‘Well. . . ’

‘I kinda like it when it hurts. Don’t like bruises, though. I got me real delicate skin, in case you didn’t notice. I bruise easy. Burn, too. Sunburn? Wonder if I got me a burn out there today. ’

With the hand that wasn’t holding her hamburger, Boots plucked out the front of her tank top and peered down inside. She shook her head and pursed her lips. ‘Reckon they got some sun. Wanna see? ’ She met Norman’s stare.

Blushing, he glanced around the diner. It was fairly crowded. He smiled at Boots. ‘I don’t think so. Not right now, anyway. ’

‘Later, then. ’

‘Well. . . ’

‘We’ll get a room, the three of us. ’

The suggestion stunned him, excited him, frightened him. The three of us in a motel room. My God!

Privacy. Beds.

‘What? ’ he asked her. Maybe he’d misunderstood what she was getting at.

‘We’ll get us a room. ’

‘What kind of a room? ’

‘A lecture room in a flicking museum. Duh! A motel room, dummy. ’ Smiling, she shook her head. ‘What’d you think we was gonna do, spend the whole night in your car? ’

‘I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. ’

‘Thought about what? ’ Duke asked, coming back from the diner’s restroom and

pulling out his chair.

‘Everything come out all right? ’ Boots asked him.

Duke smirked. ‘Can’t complain. ’ He sat down. He studied his cheese dog and French fries, then picked up the squeeze-bottle of catsup and covered the fries with a mat of thick red sauce. ‘So, ’ he said, ‘what’d I miss? What’s going on? ’

‘I was just saying to Norm how we oughta get us a room at that motel right across the street there. ’

‘Hey. Yeah. ’

‘I don’t know, ’ Norman said. ‘I don’t have a whole lot of money. ’

‘You got plastic, ’ Duke reminded him.

‘I know, but. . . I can’t use a credit card for something like that. My father’ll get the bill. ’

‘You gotta sleep. ’

‘But I’ve only made about a hundred and fifty miles today. I should’ve gone twice that far. When he sees. . . ’

‘Hey, use your head. All you gotta do is say you got a flat. ’

‘No, ’ Boots said. ‘We don’t wanna go and use no credit cards. It’s like telling who we are. Anyhow, we don’t need one. I can get us a room, and it won’t cost us nothing. ’

They both stared at her.

‘I just bet you can, ’ Duke said.

‘You better believe it. ’

‘You mean like. . . use your charm on the desk clerk? ’ Norman asked.

‘Whatever, ’ Boots said.

‘That’ll only work if it’s a guy, ’ he pointed out.

She grinned. ‘Oh, don’t be too sure. ’

‘Anyway, it wouldn’t be legal. Not if he doesn’t charge us anything. ’

‘So? ’ Boots said.

‘I don’t want us getting into trouble, ’ Norman muttered.

‘Don’t be such a wuss all your life, ’ Duke told him. ‘Boots here, she’s offering to get us a free room. You really got a problem with that? Just take a second and think about what’s gonna happen in that room, know what I mean? ’

‘I just don’t think we should do something that might be against the law. I don’t want to end up in jail. ’

Duke suddenly looked dead serious. ‘Nobody’s gonna end up in jail. I don’t do jail. That’s for losers. So, long as you stick with me, you got nothing to worry about. ’

‘You guys wait here, ’ Boots said. ‘I’ll come back and get you when it’s all set. ’

‘No big rush, ’ Duke told her. ‘Finish your burger. ’

‘I’ll take it with me. ’ Holding the hamburger in one hand, she stood up. She shoved her chair away with the backs of her legs. ‘You guys can fight over the end of my Pepsi. It’ll be watered down anyhow by the time I get back. ’

‘I don’t know about this, ’ Norman said.

‘Face it, ’ Duke said, ‘you don’t know about much. ’

‘I know, but. . . ’

‘Don’t you worry about anything, ’ Boots told him. She squeezed his shoulder. ‘I’m gonna show you boys the best time you ever had. ’

She released his shoulder.

On her way toward the door, she sashayed past several crowded tables. Conversations stopped. Customers turned their heads. Stares latched onto her from every direction.

‘Look at ’em, ’ Duke said. ‘The gals, they all hate her, figure her for a tramp. The guys, they’re thinking how they’d give their left nut to shack up with her for a night. They hate us just as much as the gals hate Boots. We’re the guys that have her, know what I mean? ’

‘I guess so. ’

‘We’re gonna have her all to ourselves, and those poor bastards know it. They can’t stand it. They’re ready to blow their pants right now. ’

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