The pile grew to over five feet tall and began to ooze and gyrate; making a hideous wet sticky sound. It continued to get taller and thinner and formed into the shape of a man. Scott wanted to run, needed to run. Run as fast as he could, but his legs were paralyzed with terror. The worms pulled tighter and the shape began to look familiar. It was him, the bum from Detroit. The yellow light from the Best Western sign and orange sunlight cresting the horizon behind the building gave the abomination a devilish color. A slimy reddish arm extended and cocked a finger like a gun, pointing at Scott. Like gawkers passing a car wreck, Scott found he was unable to avert his eyes. He wanted to look away. He wanted to turn and run, but he stood immobile and stared right at it.
A sound came from deep inside the thing. That same clicking sound and the worms fell into a puddle on the grass. The crow emerged from the pile, picked up a six-inch nightcrawler and flew off cawing repeatedly almost as if he were laughing. As if he laughed at Scott.
He watched the bird fly off then returned his gaze to the grass. Thousands of worms crawled around. Not going away, just squirming around on top of each other. Scott felt his knees weaken and his stomach twisted into a knot so tight he was sure he would vomit right there. He staggered back inside, with every step back to room 218 he tried to rationalize what he just saw. He hadn’t eaten, it was a hallucination brought on by extreme hunger, worms can’t sculpt themselves into people. He’d been under a lot of stress and it was getting to him now that the pressure had abated. That’s all it was, his mind playing tricks. He’d check out of the hotel, have a good breakfast and laugh about what he thought he saw.
Scott returned to his room without experiencing the passage of time it took to get there. He didn’t notice the neatly folded newspapers on the carpet in front of each door. The smell of Pine-Sol on the freshly washed stairs still damp and slippery didn’t register in his brain. He didn’t acknowledge the lady from housekeeping who said good morning as he entered the second floor corridor from the stairwell. He didn’t even notice the local weather coming from the TV as he opened the door to the room. “Last night’s rainfall is going to bring in a day of high humidity and we have a real possibility of scattered thunder storms this afternoon. The five day forecast coming up right after this.”
He stepped into the bathroom, closed the door then fumbled in the dark for the switch. The bathroom lights flickered on with a harsh flash causing Scott to wince. His breathing was quick and shallow as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was wet with perspiration and his eyes looked back with unease. He turned the water on, cupped his hands and leaned over the sink splashing water on his face. Each handful washed away a little of the image that had shaken him to his core. After several rinses, the worms were like a bad dream that faded almost immediately after waking.
Eyes closed, he scrambled around for a towel. The next thing he saw caused him to stagger back until he banged into the wall. The reflection in the mirror was no longer his own. It was the fucking bum. The bastard was standing behind the glass, his yellow teeth grinning with malevolence. For the second time in ten minutes, Scott lost his ability to look away. He closed his eyes jamming the heels of his hands against them as if to punish them for their betrayal. The man in the mirror replaced first with total blackness and then as Scott applied more and more pressure to his corneas his optic nerves began to send visions of exploding stars to his brain. Then the pain, Scott was putting so much force on his eyes that he was close to passing out from the pain. Dropping his hands, he slid down the wall to a seated position and rested his head between his knees.
A light tapping brought him out of the trance. Confused, he looked around the bathroom. His vision was unclear and streaked with odd floating shapes as his eyes recovered from the abuse. He started to think. Why was he sitting on the floor? The damn headache was back. Why were his eyes hurting? What the hell was happening to him? He had always been in control. He had never been into drugs. He didn’t hallucinate, so why now? It couldn’t be stress. He’d been working his ass off for five years with Cobra. He’d worked harder than this. Then the tapping came again. Was that real or just another figment of his imagination? He was scared. He couldn’t remember feeling fear before; not since childhood anyway. More tapping, a little louder this time.
“Are you okay?” Ashley’s voice came through the door, mousey and barely audible.
Scott pushed himself up the wall, and stared into the mirror at his own reflection. He regained some composure and Ashley called through the door again.
“I’m fine, I’ll be right out.” His voice was tattered and old sounding. He continued to stand there watching his own chest rise and fall with each breath. He was trying to psychoanalyze himself. Was he cracking up? He was in the middle of Missouri, in a hotel with a girl he didn’t know, preparing to finish his cross country trek in a car that wasn’t his, being stalked by a man who could not possibly have left Detroit let alone made it half way to the Pacific coast. Then there were the worms. Shit, looking back, the beer he drank in college didn’t get those kinds of results. Whatever this was, if he could put it in a pill he could make a fortune.
He took one last deep breath, exhaled and opened the door. Ashley was sitting cross-legged against the wall staring up at him.
“Are you okay? It sounded like you fell down in there.” Her face had lost all the confidence she had displayed when she climbed into the car. Ashley was scared. She looked more like a six-year-old who lost her mommy at the mall. For the first time since she left the note on her pillow and snuck out at five in the morning three days ago, she was homesick. She needed her mom. She had been positive that the only way she was ever going to make something of herself was to get out and do it and to do it she had to go to Hollywood. Ashley always felt a movie star inside her, and she wanted to let it out. Mom, however, was certain that the only thing in Ashley’s near future was college and a career. In the middle of the night, Ashley packed some things and took a city bus to the end of town where she stuck out her thumb. The first one to pass by was the batter, and climbing into the truck, she was sure it would be easy to get to Hollywood. Now she felt defeated. Her first ride was a perv and this guy looked sick, crazy, or maybe something worse.
In a very timid whisper she asked again, “Are you okay?”
He looked down at her with unsympathetic eyes. He just had the shit scared out of him twice in fifteen minutes. His skin felt clammy, and a jackhammer had begun banging out a drum solo in his head, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. So what was this kid’s problem?
“I’m fine.”
He walked over to the desk and began to pack his computer. Crossing the room, he grabbed his carry-on from the closet floor and went back to the bathroom to pack his toiletries.
Ashley didn’t get up from the floor. From across the room Scott looked down on her. Two weeks before her twentieth birthday and to him, she looked beaten down by life, like a young woman with the eyes of a little girl. It saddened him a bit. He liked the spark she had showed him yesterday and now she was beginning to ooze self-doubt. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this trip after all.
Putting whatever Ashley’s problems might be from his mind, his carry-on hanging off his shoulder and his computer case in hand, he asked, “Well, are you coming or not?”
She looked up at him as if hoping for some encouragement but all she got was, “Look, you don’t have to ride with me but you do have to get out of the room because I’m checking out. So what’s it gonna be?”
She got up, walked over to the first bed and picked up her pack. “I’m coming.” She had regained some of the attitude and swagger she showed in the car. Scott knew it was an act, but he admired her grit just the same.
“Okay, I have to check out then we’ll get some breakfast. Maybe some food will get rid of this headache.”
It was 7:38 according to the clock behind the front desk. The hotel lobby was empty but for the desk clerk. He looked up and smiled wa
rmly.
“Good morning. Checking out?”
Scott nodded, “218.”
The desk clerk scanned the keycard into the computer and still smiling asked, “Was everything satisfactory, Mr. Randall?” Scott nodded again. “Would you like all the charges on your Visa, sir?”
Scott was so out of it when he checked in that he barely remembered giving his Visa. “That would be great,” he said. The clerk looked up at the sound of someone’s voice other than his own, this time he nodded, then printed out the bill and put it down on the counter.
“Thank you for staying at Best Western and we hope to see you again, Mr. Randall.”
Scott took the invoice off the counter and put it in the side pocket of his carry-on. He looked at the nametag on the clerk’s breast pocket. “Bill, is there an IHOP, or a Denny’s, or something similar around here? I am really in the mood for some pancakes.”
Bill just pointed out the front window of the lobby. Right across the street sparkling in the bright morning sun were the windows of IHOP.
“Okay then,” Scott said with a “stupid me for asking” tone, then with an almost airy quality he turned to Ashley, “Pancakes sound good to you, Ashley?”
She giggled and headed for the door. Scott followed her out to the car. He stood for a moment looking at the spot where the worm-man had been. The grass was green and lush. There was no sign of anything that would indicate a pile of worms had been there less than an hour ago. He opened the trunk and threw his things in.
“You want to put your pack in?”
“I’ll carry it. It’s all I have. If someone steals the car while we’re eating I’ll be screwed.”
He was sure what she really meant was, “I’m not going to lose my pack if you crack up, dude.”
Just as Scott opened the driver’s side door, he heard that clicking sound again. Looking toward the source, he saw a crow on the top of the lamppost. It had a long worm dangling from its beak. The crow flipped its head back just like it had earlier and the worm disappeared. Then it flew away making the same caw-cawing cackle as before. His gaze returned to the grass; a single shiny black feather lay exactly where the worm-man had stood. Correction Scott thought, where he imagined the worm-man had stood. It was a hallucination, caused by hunger or stress, or maybe it was post stress. Scott was sure some shrink must have put some syndrome or disorder name to it in order to publish a paper in the trades.
He took one last glance at the crow as it flew off in the distance then got in the car. Reaching across the seat, he unlocked the passenger door and Ashley climbed in settling her pack on the floor between her feet. Scott had an odd look on his face that made Ashley a little uncomfortable.
Inside, the IHOP waitress told them to sit anywhere. It was still early and the place was empty with the exception of one other table. He hadn’t noticed the Lincoln in the parking lot but there sat Wayne and his wife. Scott thought immediately that it was no wonder the old man rushed back in to his wife. She was a small woman, her hair pulled back into a bun so tight it made the skin on her face shine like polished ivory. She wore little oval shaped glasses that sat on the end of her pointy nose, but what Scott noticed most were her eyes. They looked like cold deep holes of despair. She appeared to Scott to be completely void of fun. He doubted that she had experienced fun since before Jesus was a baby. If anyone could use a good laugh it was this woman.
Wayne had looked over his shoulder to see who else was in the restaurant and gave a nod when he saw it was Scott. His wife instantly started in on him, probably about why he was acknowledging those people. He just looked down at the table and ate his eggs like a little boy cowering from an overbearing mother.
“Divorce has got to be better than that.”
He didn’t realize he was speaking aloud and Ashley turned to see what he was talking about. Wayne’s wife sneered at her and she turned back to Scott and began to giggle.
It wasn’t until that moment that Scott noticed how truly stunning Ashley was. Her smile was warm, framed by the sweetest dimples he could remember ever seeing. She had big blue eyes, the kind that you usually saw in toddlers. She had perfect features, flawless skin, and the blondest hair this side of the Alps. He didn’t consider himself an expert but he believed it was her natural color.
She suddenly became aware that he was looking at her for the first time. “What?” She said smiling uncomfortably.
With the same level of discomfort Scott said, “Sorry, it’s nothing.” He opened his menu and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m having pancakes.” He found himself looking over the menu at her again.
She didn’t notice this time, “Pancakes sounds good.”
The waitress, a pale skinned older woman with salt and pepper hair and a body that was as wide as it was high stepped up to their table with a coffee pot. She wore a uniform that was clean and pressed but well-worn. Scott waved off the coffee and Ashley shook her head.
“We’d both like pancakes and some orange juice,” Scott said handing his menu to her.
She winked at him, “Okie-dokie! Well my name’s Jean and if you need anything you just holler.” Then she scooped up Ashley’s menu and walked away.
The color drained from his face and he stared out with a blank expression. If it wasn’t hand gestures, winking, or clicking tongues it was that stupid fucking phrase. Okie-dokie. What the hell does that mean anyway? Okie-dokie my ass.
Ashley noticed that Scott seemed to have left the building and cautiously asked, “Are you okay?”
He gave a forced smile and nodded.
She wasn’t sure if this was a good time, but at this point she wasn’t sure if getting back in the car after breakfast was a good idea. She didn’t think Scott would hurt her but she was beginning to wonder if he might be unstable.
“I hope you didn’t mind that I called my mom from the room last night. I left without telling her and I wanted her to know I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I was just saying I called my mom from the room. It should have been on the hotel bill.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m going to expense it anyway.”
Before Scott knew it, they had finished eating. He now knew Ashley’s life story. It seemed that once she started talking she couldn’t stop. She broke up with her boyfriend last week. His name was Harold. He was a great guy but she felt he was willing to settle for less than she was. He got a job at the steel mill. He would be like his daddy and Ashley sure didn’t want that. Her cat died this summer. Oh how she cried. Her best friend Marcie got herself knocked up by Billy Johnson, yuck. Ashley had been accepted to two colleges, and her mom was so excited. She would be the first in the family to go to college. But that was also not for her. At least not right now.
Jean came over with the bill and Scott almost jumped out of his chair to pay it. He left a twenty on the table for a thirteen dollar tab and headed for the door unsure whether Ashley would follow. Almost at the car he saw her trotting out, her head bobbing with each step.
Again he reached across from the driver’s seat reluctantly unlocking the door. She threw her pack in the backseat climbed in and showed him the way back to the interstate.
Chapter Fourteen
About the same time Scott and Ashley were heading for the highway, leaving the worms and taunting crows behind, Roger was beginning to stir in Beth’s guest room. It had been a great couple of days but if he didn’t leave now he may not get to the Grand Canyon. Thanks to his mother wiring him some cash and Beth driving him into town, the trip was back on. He would tell Beth during breakfast that he was hitting the road. He hadn’t tried to turn their budding friendship into an all out summer romance because he had a plan and he still had strong feelings for Paige. The plan was to hike the Grand Canyon. If he gave in to his attraction, the plan would be history and so would Paige. He couldn’t see Beth backpacking through the desert anyway. The canyon was still a long way off. Would she be standing on the road hitching? M
ore likely Daddy had a fifty-foot motor home with a hot tub and satellite TV that she would no doubt suggest they bring. No, that wouldn’t do at all. He wanted to rough it across the country. Today he would thank her and hope she would invite him to get in touch with her when he got back to school.
Roger dragged himself out of bed and walked across the room to the window. Looking down at the pool, he decided a morning swim would be a great way to end his stay.
He felt like the only person on earth. Birds chirped, and a dog barked, but otherwise he heard nothing. It was so quiet, too quiet for daytime. There were no sounds of air conditioners humming, or traffic from a nearby street. From what he remembered of the drive in there weren’t any nearby streets. The driveway must have been a mile long and he didn’t remember there being any neighbors.
When he got down to the pool he stood at the edge hypnotized by the silence.
“You going in?”
He turned with a start to see Beth’s sister. She was wearing a large white fleece robe that hung to her knees.
“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me,” he said. He checked her out the same way he did both her and Beth at the rodeo and a pang of guilt made him look away. He wondered how two sisters could both be so beautiful.
“You’re the guy who fell off the fence, aren’t you?” she asked with a smirk.
Roger’s ears began to turn pink. “And you must be Bobbie.” His eyes were again studying her. She obviously noticed, and gave him the once over, smiled and shot him an animated wink.
Her face lit up as she dropped the robe on the ground, leaving Roger stunned. Bobbie stood on the cut stone deck surrounding the pool. The robe was bundled around her feet. Bobbie’s feet were the only part of her that was covered. Her grin turned naughty as she reached provocatively behind her neck and tied her hair back in a ponytail. Roger stared unblinking as her naked body glistened in the morning sun. She took a step toward him then asked again, “You going in?” She walked to the edge of the pool and jumped in.
The Nightcrawler Page 9