Wednesday, April 5, 2017

The Motel - Alonzo's Story Part Two

 Every character I write is a composite of several people - never just one.

Ultimately, they're probably all me in one way or another, but it's interesting to re-read these stories and remember the people who I used to help me build these characters.

In this scene, the characters introduced are made of assorted family and friends, bank tellers, Wal-Mart cashiers, and co-workers.

To me, in some ways, novel writing is very similar to journal writing - it's a snapshot of a certain time in my life - but only I would get the joke in that way.

To everyone else, it's a story. To me, so much more.

Enjoy the second part of this week's story. If you missed the first part, click here.
 
The Motel - Alonzo's Story
Part Two


He groped the wall next to the bed, and found a lamp.  Turning it on, light flooded the small gray cinderblock of a motel room.  Crystal lay on the other side of the bed, curled into a quivering fetal ball and shaking. He climbed quickly onto the bed, touching her shoulder.  He still couldn’t see her face, buried down into her chest, hidden by hair.

“Crystal, what’s wrong?”

Her breath came out heavy and sharp, like she couldn’t get enough oxygen.  Some sheets from the bed draped heavy across her back, and he pushed them away.  The back of her shirt rolled up partway…

“Good Lord!”

“What is it?” 

He grimaced as he gently pulled up her shirt further to reveal a spider-web of angry red lines dotted with pus-filled blisters. 

“I don’t know.  It’s a lot of red and white bumps, like bites in rows on your back.”

She relaxed slightly towards him as her head lifted a bit, and her hand reached around to touch the edge of the bumps on her shoulder. 

“Sh…shingles...”

As she dropped her hand, he saw the blisters had progressed further up her shoulder, under her hand, in just a few seconds. So fast…

He remembered stories his mother told him about caring for his grandmother when she had shingles in a single line around the middle of her back, and how painful it was to see her suffer.  Alonzo felt sure a case like this would have killed his grandmother in seconds.

“That’s shingles? You got this just now?”

Crystal waved a shaking finger to a soda can that sat on the table on her side of the bed.  “Caffeine. Itsa…drug.”

Alonzo reached for the can, careful not to put any of his weight on her quivering body. 

“It’s almost full.  You drank that little and it did this to you?”

Crystal screamed again, muffling the sound into a pillow. 

His sense of alarm grew, and he searched his memory.  What else did his mother say about shingles?  His grandmother’s only relief was...

Could it hurt her?  Don’t think so.  Might help.

He put the can down on the greasy brown table by the window, picked up the door key and ran to the door. “Wait here.  I’ll be right back.”

She grit her teeth, eyes clenched closed.  “Where are you going?”

“An idea.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

*

“Excuse me – good evening. Have you got any red pepper sauce?”

He nodded to the hotel manager, a heavy-set dark-haired man, raised his eyebrows.  A little girl, wrapped in a blanket, looked away from the small TV and ran over to the man, half-hiding behind his chair as she stared wide-eyed.

So much for calm…

“Where did you come from?” The man adjusted his glasses slightly.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late.  We’re checked in at 10B.  I just need some red pepper sauce, some powdered red pepper, anything you’ve got.  Do you have anything?”

The manager frowned, looking Alonzo over.  “Makin’ a midnight batch of buffalo wings, are we?  We don’t allow no cookin’ in the rooms.”

“I realize it’s an unusual request.  No, we’re not cooking with it.  I’ll pay you, if you have any.”

The man considered Alonzo again, then waved a dismissive hand.  “Nah.  Wouldn’t know what to charge.  All I got’s my own private stash of habanero sauce. It’ll burn the hair off anyone it touches, son.  That all right?”

“Perfect.”

“Ashley, you run to the cupboard for me, get the red bottle.  ‘K?”

The little girl darted out of sight.  The manager leaned into the counter again.

“10B, huh?  I dunno what use you have in mind for this, but know my eyes are on you now.  Don’t damage the room or the linens, or it’s an extra charge. Don’t matter if you paid in cash – I got a detective and I will find you, ya gotcha?”

“Very clear, sir. Thank you.”

Ashley came back and held up a large red bottle, which the manager handed over.  Alonzo took the bottle and ran from the room, the door jingling as he shoved it open.

*

What does he find when he gets back to the room? Find out tomorrow.

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