“I called you earlier to make sure my reservation was set and you seemed to have a hard time comprehending anything at all – my words, the air around you, etcetera.” Lopsky took a minute to straighten his glasses. “Also my friend here needs a room, he’s recovering from an accident. He’s on the mend and just needs some rest.”
The man, Michael, glanced at Nathanial before looking back at Lopsky.
“You two are rooming together?”
“No, good heavens.” Lopsky spent the next few seconds in a fluster over the thought. “I should already have a room!” Lopsky declared.
The pretty girl on the couch stared at Lopsky with endless amusement.
“I’ll check the files,” Michael listlessly informed, looking at his computer.
“Sam?” Michael called out. The pretty tanned girl looked up from her sketchbook.
“Yeah?” She sounded somewhat defiant. Nathanial glanced at her only for a second, because he needed to see something beautiful.
“My computer’s frozen,” Michael said, irritably punching buttons. Sam put her sketchbook down and walked over to the computer. Nathanial glanced down at what she’d been drawing – a house on fire, with flames erupting from the roof, and angels above it sitting on the sun.
“I keep telling you you need to get a new computer,” she calmly lectured as she held down a button for almost a minute. Everyone motel owner should have a decent computer.” Sam glanced up at Nathanial. He was by far the most interesting person she’d seen around here in months. Just as soon as she looked at him, he looked away. She figured out he wasn’t interested in her whatsoever.
“Here it is,” Sam pointed to the screen. “Lopsky Hutchens, room 7B.”
Lopsky lifted his hand just to slap it on the counter. “Finally someone knows something – hurray!”
Sam turned around and held the key out and Lopsky snatched it from her hand and made his way up the stairs.
“Okay,” Sam looked back at the screen. “So he can have 9B,” Sam said, nodding at Nathanial.
“No,” Michael immediately said. “That’s having some repairs.”
“No, its not,” Sam shot back.
“Yes, Sam, it is,” Michael assured.
“Since when?”
“Last night.”
“You’re lying!” Sam said. Just then Lopsky came down the stairs, all worked up again. He pushed Nathanial out of the way and rang the bell. Sam gave him a look.
“Uh, I’m right here…” she said.
“I spoke to someone on the phone and she said you guys had swivel action direct flow on your powerful jets but I just have a regular bathtub. Its not a whirlpool tub. Its just a tub, it just holds water!”
“We had them replaced,” Sam informed. “They were too loud.”
Lopsky let out a sharp laugh.
“Well you should tell people that when they make reservations and inquire about the accommodations!”
“Is that why 9B is under repair?” Sam asked Michael. “Because the tub’s being replaced?”
Michael’s mouth was full of words he didn’t want to let out. He stared down at the desk.
“That one still has the old whirlpool tub,” he finally said.
“Well I’ll take that one, that’s the one I was promised,” Lopsky demanded.
“No,” Michael sternly responded. Meanwhile Nathanial was getting more and more anxious. His face throbbed and his back hurt.
“Listen, buddy, I called and asked for that room and that was the room I was told I’d get! I’m having quite a rotten pickle of a day so just give me the room!”
“Are you okay with having the other room?” Sam asked Nathanial. Her voice was soft. It managed to keep Nathanial calm. He wouldn’t look up at her but he gave a definite nod.
“Okay,” Sam sighed, tired of this job. “So he can have 7B and Lopsky gets 9, there, its settled.” Lopsky handed his key to Nathanial and took the other one before racing out of the office to his room and Nathanial quickly went to his.
Michael pulled Sam aside, displeased.
“I know I’m your father and we have our little tiffs but here I’m your boss and would like a little professionalism and respect.”
“You don’t know how to do anything,” Sam simply said. “You never know what to do when the computer freezes, and you never inform people if a room is not available – also we should change the sign to No Vacancy,” she said. “I’m sorry dad, but…I’m just trying to help.” She walked back over to the couch where the sketchbook was and took a deep breath, the kind that filled her up to her toes. She stared in great dissatisfaction at what she’d been drawing. After a few seconds she turned to a fresh blank page and began sketching a boy in a white hoodie.
33
Nathanial hurried down the hallway, on the verge of a meltdown. All he wanted was to be alone, hidden away, for the rest of his life.
He slipped the keycard into the little slot. The click he heard was the most beautiful sound in the world. He opened the door and was greeted by cold air and a clean, almost nothingness smell. He dropped his bag and fell on the bed and let the tears come.
He rolled over on the bed, feeling emptied. He liked motel rooms because of their ability to erase human existence – to completely delete the presence of the last visitor. He wanted to do that to his soul. To his body. His mind.
He sat up, on the edge of the bed. Before the pain left on him was hard to spot as it spread all over him but now it was more revealing where his true injuries were. His head and his right testicle. He stood up and went over to the window. He saw Sam on the diving board, perfectly poised. Nathanial thought it wasn’t possible for a person to be that still and completely inhabited by concentration. Suddenly she ran just a few steps to the edge and jumped way up and sliced the water open with her perfect body. It was magnificent and for a minute, it erased Nathanial’s scowl.
He backed away and slowly made his way to the bathroom. How long would it take for his face to look normal again? He tried to touch it but it hurt too much. He sent a direct punch to the mirror, sending spiderweb-cracks up and down the glass. He looked at the neat lines of blood on his fist. It felt good to be the cause of his own pain – there was a unique power to it. You’re in control now, you, you, YOU. He punched the mirror again, using the same fist. The cuts sparkled with tiny shard of glass in the skin, like it was encrusted with tiny little diamonds.
Nathanial placed his hands down on the sink, spreading his arms out, leaning forward. He stared at himself in the mirror for a minute before back off and pulling his shirt off. He turned to the side. His back was bruised and there was a massive lump on his head from where he was hit with the wine bottle and his hair was entangled with blood. Every so often tears wailed up in his eyes but he fought them back down, he wouldn’t allow them out.
He turned the shower water on and let it run for a while, let steam build so it wrapped around him like a comforting hug from an old friend. The tears came…
He stepped in and felt the hot drops beat off his shoulders, his face, all over, but there was something stuck on him that would not wash off. It would always be there. It didn’t go away when he punched the mirror either.
The hot water poured down his back and all over his aches. It poured down from his hair. A cut on the top of his head stung from it but eventually turned numb. He stared at blue hair dye and blood as it circled the drain. You know who you are. You know who you are?
After his shower he went back over to the sink. His knuckles stung from the fresh cuts and bled when he made a fist. Well fuck you too, he thought.
He turned around and stared at the shower, at the blue and red floor…the pain was defined now, throbbing and aching.
“Well what do you want from me?” Nathanial muttered, grinding his teeth as he walked across the room to the bed. He picked up the alarm clock and hurled it across the room so it slammed against the wall. His wet body dropped against the sheets. He desperately want
ed sleep. He wanted sleep so bad he scared it away. Blood and water left rose-colored spots on the white sheets. The sound of splashing outside his window prevented him from finding his way into a nice deep sleep. It seemed to occur exactly every 20 seconds. Why was it so loud? It was like glass shattering!
He turned irritably, kicking the sheets and punching the pillow, just wanting to get lost in sleep. There was a wall one melted through and on the other side was sleep, was a land of dreams, or nightmares – well whatever was there Nathanial desperately wanted to slip over to it. But the damn splashing!!!
Sam was swimming. Nathanial watched her from the side of the building, peeking around as she pulled herself out of the pool and went back to the diving board. She had an amazing body that the dark pink almost red bikini flattered greatly. Her boobs bounced, her tummy was flat and tone. Her bottom was perfectly heart-shaped.
He watched her dive. It wasn’t your typical motel pool dive for recreation sake. It was a freaking reverse in the tuck position. He marveled at her skills as she swam to the opposite end of the pool, cutting straight through the water with her slim figure. She got out and walked right back to the diving board. She was like a machine, emotionally cutoff from her surroundings. He wanted to be like that. She dove again, perhaps even better than the last time. After a minute his infatuation deceased and upset refilled him.
“Hey?” he called out to her, a bit hostile. When she didn’t give him the time of day, he walked over to her. She