The Motel - Alonzo's Story Part Three

If you missed Part One or Part Two, click the appropriate link.

And we go on to

The Motel
Alonzo's Story - Part Three

“Whoever you are, just shoot me please.” 

Crystal’s whimpered pleading couldn’t prepare him for what he saw as he opened the door.  She somehow rolled over on the other side now, facing away from the door.  The shingles had spread up her neck, a line of blisters moving towards her face.  Her mouth hung open, and her body seized again and again.

“It’s me, it’s me.  This might help…I hope.”  He undid the lid, and poured some habanero sauce on his bare hand, feeling the heat through his own skin. Then he slathered it on the lines of blisters near her eyes and around her face.

Crystal tensed even more, grimacing and pulling at the sheets of the bed.  Alonzo cursed his own helplessness, and pushed against the outside of her hand, to give her some relief.

After a few moments, her breathing slowed.  She let go of her death grip on the bed, and opened her eyes, staring straight ahead. He relaxed as well.

The blisters stopped their visible forward creep.  He watched them carefully for any more signs of movement.

“What did you do?”

“Red pepper sauce…the manager found some for me.  My mother told me that’s what she used to treat my grandmother’s shingles.”

She blinked a few times.  “It’s working.”

“They’re still there, though.  The blisters look redder.”

Crystal, however, looked visibly more comfortable, and Alonzo felt his own relief at the sight. 

He immediately poured some more habanero sauce into his hands, ignoring the burning of his own skin.  He smoothed the stinging liquid over her neck and shoulders.  He noticed that the sores closest to her eyes began to recede, but he couldn’t reach both sides of her back. He grabbed and laid out his coat behind her, mindful of his promise to protect the linens, and not excited about the idea of being tracked by anyone else.

“Try to turn over, okay?”

She groaned deep in her throat, and closed her eyes.  Grasping onto her hand to support her, she squeezed as he pulled her over, in one motion, until gravity pulled her the rest of the way onto her stomach. 

Another shriek escaped her lips, and several quick breaths as she shook from the pain. No point in taking this slowly…just get it over with. 

He gathered her shirt up to her neck, undid her bra clasp, and he made quick work of as much of her back as he could, down to her waist.  Crystal flinched and grunted at each new application.

“How does it feel now?”

“Better.”  Her eyes fluttered, and she rocked back and forth a little.  “Where’s my shirt?”

He smiled to himself – modesty seemed a good sign of recovery in this case. He smoothed his hand down to the waistband of her jeans, but he couldn’t get any farther.

“Take down your pants.”

“What?”  She lifted her head slightly.

“The shingles…it’s gone below your waistband.  I need you to take down your jeans.”

She paused for a moment.  “Ah…no, I…no.”

His frustration rose; he hated not finishing something he started.  “It doesn’t hurt?”

“No, really…I’m good.”

He couldn’t see her face, but he saw the stillness and tension in her whole body.  “I don’t believe you.”

He heard a quick exhale and a timid voice.  “Okay, you win…but help me pull down my shirt at least.”  She squirmed indignantly. “…so embarrassing.”

Alonzo tried hard not to laugh as he reached up to pull her shirt back down.  “Honestly…like I’ve never seen a woman’s…”

Then he saw it…

*

Gotta come back tomorrow to find out what he saw...see you then!

Or if you're a less patient person like myself, you could always head for Amazon, buy the novel, and flip to Chapter 18. I'm okay either way.

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.

The Motel - Alonzo's Story - Part One

This story I wrote several years ago, as a character exercise. I wanted to get to know him better...and how better to do that than to get inside his head?

So this is a change-in-perspective scene of what happens around Chapter 18 of my novel, Sanctuary. In the novel, you see it through Crystal's eyes. Here, you see the same story through his.

If you haven't already read the story, here's the quick sum-up so you know what's going on:

Crystal, a half-human, half-alien girl, is looking for her father. The rumor is that he's still alive on Earth. Alonzo, an FBI agent who was tasked to bring her in for questioning about a death she caused through misuse of her abilities, decides to help her find her father.

While running from other government agents, Alonzo is injured, and Crystal, who is able to take other people's injuries on herself to 'heal' them, has to drink a cola drink for enough energy to help him, even though she knows the effects of any common substance in her mutated system have unpredictable and often negative consequences. Caffeine, in particular, has been vicious and very negative in the past...

Something else you need to know is that Alonzo's young wife, Maria, passed away from cancer about two years before this scene opens.

Crazy stuff, but there you go. What fun is science fiction if it doesn't go a little crazy sometimes?

So, there you go, and enjoy this week's little freebie:

***

The Motel - Alonzo's Story
Part One

The muscles in Alonzo’s whole body froze rigid and immobile.  The left arm especially burned.  Even the slightest twitch only made the pain worse.

Small fingers, so soft and small, moved along the burning, cooling it, and he jumped a little.  So soft and small.  Not since…

“Maria….”

The hand stopped and lifted away from his skin. A sense of body heat next to his hips on the bed captured his focus for a moment, but soon the burning intensified and his breathing increased.

Don’t stop.  Is it…?

“Maria?…God, my arm…Maria!”

The same hand smoothed his forehead now, clearing the haze around his mind. From somewhere he received strength to open his eyes. 

“I’m here.  You’ll be okay…”

Maria’s long black hair fell like a waterfall around her shoulders, just like the first day they met.

His surprise overtook his thoughts, and he could only blink and stare at her face, the halo of a dim light bulb behind her. How long had it been? 

Every cell of his body reached out to her, to try to pull her down to him, to his chest and his mouth, to make her real and never lose her again, but his arms lay like dead meat at his sides.  Fire spread through his body with every breath. 

“Maria?”  His breath grated across his dry throat.

She smiled, but she looked sad.  Looked down and shook her head.

What is wrong with me?  Say something. Please.

Her hand moved over to his temple.  “Go to sleep now.”

The dim light snapped out.

No…

The intensity of the scream coming from the bed next to his shocked him awake in a moment.  He sprang to his feet. Where was she? He had no idea where he was, or why Maria screamed. 

He wasn’t sick anymore, and the freedom and quickness of his movements caught him off-guard with such a sense of unreality that, for a moment, he simply wavered next to the bed.  He patted himself down to make sure that he still had a physical boundary.  His shirt and shoes were missing, but otherwise he was still dressed. 

Then the frightened scream again, breaking into his consciousness with such strength...

“Crystal?”

As soon as her name whispered from his mouth, he remembered everything. The shooting.  The blood.  Driving until the dark enveloped him, and a lot of hazy memories after that, of pain and heat.  What happened to her?

***

That's all for today...another installment tomorrow.