by Sam Lollar
One of the officers forced the door open, popped the hood of the car, and got into the engine compartment. He said he’d be able to find out whose car it was from the ID number. From there, he went to the rear of the car and suggested we stand away from it. He forced open the trunk with a crowbar, and we saw several black plastic bags that appeared to be inflated. The floor of the trunk was wet. Testing the wetness with his finger, the policeman determined it was blood. LuLu ran from the place and went to Mrs. Schuster’s suite. I was fascinated, as was Bob. Scott stayed, but was less fascinated than he was worried about the negative publicity the motel was likely to receive yet again.
The policeman opened one bag, screamed, and ran from the trunk. He yelled at us to get away, that a human head was in the bag. He radioed for the coroner, who came in a very few minutes. Blocking off the entire back part of the motel, the coroner began pulling bags out of the car. He didn’t even open them, but said he thought there were probably parts of two bodies in the trunk. Scott demanded the car be removed immediately, so a tow truck came and took it away. The police said that we would have to give statements regarding the car and whatever we knew about it. I thought that would be a fairly easy job since none of us knew anything about it. We ended up relocating a couple of guests, so the rear of the motel was kept vacant for several days.
We were interviewed individually in the motel office. Meanwhile, Rick and I had reached something like a friendship, not dating exactly, not confidants, but a kind of détente. He began treating me like an adult, rather than a naïve teenager. He came over the next day and brought hamburgers for a quick lunch.
The phone rang and Scott asked, “Are you watching the news?”
“Sure am. We’re watching it now.”
“Can you believe it? One of those bodies was missing a head. God, how grisly. I wonder where it is. Aaron, you better check the rooms back there to make sure it’s not hanging around somewhere.”
“Me? That’s what the police are for.”
“I know, I’m just kidding. They’re around back right now checking all the rooms. Have you finished lunch with your paramour? Feel like coming back to work? We’re getting travelers in, you know, and they need your ‘special touch.’”
“I’m on my way. And we’re just having lunch, he’s not my paramour.”
Despite the horrifying experience, the motel puttered along as usual, many wonderful cars driven by interesting people. LuLu had relocated to another suite in the front of the motel, so we always saw her pink Mustang parked out front.
Apparently, the bodies were of a couple of hitchhikers who were murdered by some maniac.
Chapter Thirty-four
The 1966 Volkswagen Beetle
In one of my biology labs that spring semester was a young woman named Tessie. We were lab partners and quickly became friends. Since we were the same age, I enjoyed spending time with her rather than all the adults I knew at the motel. We would go to the drive-in movies. While at Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet we made out like schoolkids—exactly like what we were, come to think of it. It was exhilarating and liberating doing an ordinary bit of necking without any sociological overtones or ulterior motives.
*
“Wait a minute, Dad. I thought you were gay? Just how many girls did you see before you met Mom?”
“There were a few, especially during that spring at the university. I think I was so frightened of actually being gay that I tried to compensate by seeing girls as often as I could.”
*
Tessie and I usually went out in her Volkswagen Beetle, so trying to make out in the front bucket seats was a challenge. Her dad was a real stickler for how she used the car. He checked the mileage every day after she came home from school. She had figured how to disconnect the odometer cable from the front wheel. But in truth, she was a good girl. We did nothing more than neck. I don’t remember touching her body, but I may have. She never touched me in my privates.
In fact, I was getting a tad horny after a week or two of this necking. I hadn’t seen Rick in weeks, and I was enjoying the heterosexual normalcy of it all. No lying to anybody about who I was seeing. Tessie was, at heart, a good girl, and refused my attempts to become more amorous. She actually slapped my face when I whispered that I wanted to have sex with her. Immediately afterward, we went back to campus where I picked up my car and we went our separate ways.
The next day in class, she asked to have another lab partner. I was paired with Sukie, a quasi-hippie complete with long hair and macramé bag. Since she didn’t have a car, we took my Falcon on the one date we actually went on. We saw a dull movie whose name escapes me, but once I had driven her to the apartment she shared with two other girls, she grabbed me and began making out with me. I was pretty horned up after the tease with Tessie, so I responded with glee. She asked me in, saying her roomies were out for the evening.
The details are pretty sketchy, but I do remember that I didn’t leave her apartment for three days. I tried marijuana for the first time, got drunk on the most vile cheap wine I’d ever tasted, and had sex sex sex. I hadn’t gotten in the front door with Sukie before she tore the buttons off my shirt. Then, down she went to my crotch and had my zipper down and was shoving my pants down my legs. “Come on. Let’s get to bed.”
*
“Wow, Granddad. I wish I could meet a girl like that.”
“Be careful what you wish for, lad. It was not all that wonderful, believe me.”
*
Sex with Sukie was really great. It was much more pleasurable than the experience I had had with the prostitute in Juarez. But was it better than sex with Rick? Or Mark? Or Isaac? Sadly, not by a long shot. Even while I was enjoying Sukie, I kept thinking I’d rather it be with a man. That’s not to say that I couldn’t perform. Sukie asked me to stay the night, and after eating a couple of her magic brownies made with marijuana, I couldn’t resist. I crashed at Sukie’s for that period. I don’t remember calling anyone to let them know where I was or if I was all right.
The next morning as I was trying to locate my head, which felt as if it had gone on a vacation without me, Sukie said she had invited a friend over, plus her two roommates were home. I actually never left the bedroom for the next two days, except to go to the bathroom. I don’t know if I bathed or what, but I must have stunk. I know I had nothing to eat. I actually dropped ten pounds in those three days.
First, one of Sukie’s roomies came in. As I was trying to cover myself, she stripped out of the granny dress she was wearing. Her little boobies were bouncing as she hopped on the bed, and the next thing I knew, I was fucking a girl whose name I didn’t even know. She finished, and the other roomie came in and repeated the process. Over the span of about thirty-six hours, I fucked four girls about three times each. On the evening of the third day, I had sobered up enough to realize I had to get out of there.
I located my pants and shoes, which were exactly where I had tossed them several days before. My wallet was still in my pants pocket, as were my keys. Clearly the girls only wanted me, not my money. I never found my shirt, but as I staggered out of the apartment to my car, I told the girls I had a wonderful time, thanks for inviting me. They sat around, smoking marijuana and giggling inanely. They didn’t try to stop me from leaving, so I staggered to my car and drove off. If I had been stopped by the police, I’m sure I would have been run in for driving under the influence. Happily I made it back to the motel, found my room, and crashed onto the bed.
The next day around noon, Scott knocked on my door. “Aaron?” he yelled. “Are you in there? I see your car out here. Where’ve you been? Can I come in?”
I managed to rouse myself enough to get the door open and then threw myself back in bed.
“My God. Look at you. When’s the last time you took a bath? You stink. And come to think of it, you smell like sex. Where’ve you been? What have you done? Or should I say, who’ve you done? Were you with Rick? He called, by the way. I called your roommate
yesterday, trying to find you. We were getting worried.”
I pulled myself up into a sitting position and looked at him. I was still in my soiled pants, no shirt, and even wearing my shoes in the bed. “Scott, you will not believe what’s happened to me.”
“I’m dying to know. Tell everything. Let me pull up a chair. I can tell this is going to be good.”
I related the events of the past three days, omitting no detail. Scott was silent for a time, looking at me in a puzzled manner. “You know,” he began, “you have just become that fuckbag you’ve so desperately tried to avoid. Only it’s been with females and not men. Talk about irony. Did you like the sex with females?”
“It was wonderful the first half dozen times. I lost count but I think we did it eighteen times in the past three days. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have sex again.”
“That’s one of the great things about being young. You’ll be ready to party again in no time. But I would lay off the drugs, Aaron. They can really fuck you up. What all did you take?”
“Just some marijuana brownies and lots of cheap rotgut wine. I didn’t actually smoke any of the pot, just ate it. I probably smell like it because the girls were smoking a lot of it.”
I rested the rest of the day and night and was ready to go back to class the next day. As it turned out, it was another biology lab. Sukie was there just as bright and cheerful as ever. “Hiya, Aaron. How’s it hangin’?”
“You should know. You’ve handled it enough.”
“Ha. That’s funny. My friends really liked you, Aaron. Interested in going in for a rematch?”
“No, thanks, Sukie. I think I’ll try to maintain my amateur status a while longer. Tell me something, though. Why me? Why did you girls want me?”
“Aaron. Don’t be disingenuous. Everyone knows you’re the cutest guy on campus. All us girls talk about is who can get you in the sack. I made a bet with several of my friends I could do it before any of them. And I did. You were great, and not a disappointment.”
Once again, I was stunned anyone would have found me to be so attractive. It felt just as bizarre knowing females were interested in me. I declined any more advances from Sukie and her friends, though we remained friends the rest of the semester.
Chapter Thirty-five
Ambulances by Cadillac
Over the past few weeks, Mark had called to make sure I had received that check from the studio. It had been waiting for me when we had gotten back from L.A., just as promised. I had never seen such a huge check, so I photocopied it before depositing it. I probably still have that copy somewhere. My mom’s lawyer friend, Ruth, put me in touch with a financial advisor, who suggested I invest most of the money. I’ve been delighted to see how quickly it has grown into a sizeable fortune. Over the years I’ve been secretly grateful for the events that led to my getting the money. They were painful at the time, but the long-term payoff has been wonderful.
One bright spring morning, I entered the lobby and was told that LuLu had left. She had said she didn’t want any long good-byes, just drove off very early that morning. I was surprised, but quickly got busy behind the desk answering phones. I enjoyed the busyness of the morning because it kept my mind focused on things other than my love life.
One evening a few days later, I answered the phone, and the caller asked for Aaron.
“That’s me,” I said.
“Hi, Aaron, this is Isaac. How’re you doing?”
“Okay.” I was dumbstruck.
“I’m in town and was wondering when we would be getting together? My schedule is free tonight and all day tomorrow, if this isn’t too short a notice. Whaddaya say?”
“Isaac, what are you doing in town? What happened to L.A.?”
“I wanted to go traveling and thought El Paso would be an interesting sight, since I’ve never seen it before. I got in about a half hour ago and wanted to call you first thing to check our schedules and see how much time we would be spending together. Lots, I hope. Listen, I’m just down the road from you. I think I found the only empty hotel room in the city. Why don’t I just come on over? I’ll be there in a few minutes.” And he hung up.
I was momentarily petrified, but I called Scott. He didn’t answer. I began to panic. I called Bob’s suite and told him what had happened. To my relief, Bob came down in about three minutes. Some fifteen minutes later, in walked Isaac. He looked tired and thinner than I remembered him. “Aaron. How beautiful you are. Let me look at you.”
“Isaac, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“I told you, sweetheart. I was traveling and decided to come here.”
I noticed Mark’s Corvette under the porte cochere. “Does Mark know you’re here?”
“Well, of course he does, silly. What do you think I did? Escape from a loony bin?”
That was exactly what I thought. And it made sense. “Isaac, does Mark know you have his Corvette?”
“Why all the questions? We’ve not seen each other in months, and all I get from you is the third degree? Come here and give me a big hug.”
“I’m staying behind the counter, Isaac. I want you to go back to L.A. I’ll bet Mark’s worried about you.”
“About his car, you mean. That fucker locked me away in some nut house. He thought it would be forever. I showed him. No one would let me out, but I tricked them. I snuck out wearing a janitor’s outfit. That janitor didn’t even know what hit him,” he said, with a smirk of satisfaction.
“Isaac, did you injure him?”
“Him? Why aren’t you worried about me? I hope I killed that fucker. I hurt my hand pretty bad. Look at it, it’s still bruised.”
“You killed him?”
“Oh, who cares? He was just a janitor, nobody important. He was bleeding when I left. But come on, Aaron, let’s go back to your room and get better acquainted, if you know what I mean.”
Bob took me aside and told me to continue talking with him while he went into the business office to call for help. I was horrified he was going to leave me alone with this nut case even for a moment.
As soon as he was out of sight, Isaac tried to get over the counter to me. I shoved him off a couple of times until he got winded. “Aaron, I don’t like these games you’re playing. I’m getting pretty frustrated. I know you wanted to see me. You said as much when I called you earlier. Why are you all of a sudden playing Mr. Hard-to-Get?” After a pause, his eyes became steely and cold. “Is there someone else, Aaron? Are you seeing another man? You know what I told you. I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me. You’re mine, and you know it. Now, let’s go.”
*
“Dad. You must have been terrified.”
“Oh, I was, believe me. It was like something out of a Hitchcock movie.”
*
He reached over the counter and grabbed my arm, trying to drag me over the counter. Fortunately, Bob came back in from the office. “Hey. Let go of him,” he yelled as he entered the room. “What’s going on here?”
“None of your goddamned business, fat boy. Just stay away from Aaron. Is he the one you’re sleeping with now, Aaron? Huh? Have you become just another slut, jumping from dick to dick? I was sure you were different from the others, that you were loyal to me. What do you see in this pig, anyway?”
“Hold on there, buddy,” Bob said. “Just let go of him and calm down.”
“Fuck you.” Isaac pulled a long knife from a holster hanging from his belt. “I’m going to cut your fat little pecker clean off, you butterball. Now, get away from Aaron.” He came closer to the counter and grabbed my arm again. I kept hoping customers would come in and chase him away, but none did. The noise of the phones ringing off the hook only added to the tension.
He couldn’t quite get the knife to my throat, so he tried to pull me over the counter again. Bob grabbed my other arm, and Isaac became even redder in the face than before. He looked worse than the night he had tried to rape me.
“Let go of him, fat boy. You do
n’t want me to cut his pretty arm off, do you? Back off.”
Isaac began sticking my arm with the knife. I screamed as loud as I could. When Bob released my other arm, he and I grabbed things off the counter and threw them at Isaac. I hit him in the face with a stapler, and he quit cutting me. By that time, I was bleeding all over the countertop. He continued to pull on my arm, sore as it was, trying to drag me over the counter. I held on and tried my best to stay there. He made a final lunge at me but couldn’t get over the counter. In frustration, he grabbed the knife and stabbed straight down, actually pinning my arm to the countertop, placing the blade of the knife between the radius and ulna. The pain was excruciating. I felt myself losing consciousness.
*
“So that’s where those scars came from,” Junior said.
“Yeah, I call them my battle scars from the sexual revolution.”
*
Finally, the police came. They entered the lobby, guns drawn. They could see the blood going everywhere and the knife in my arm.
“Hold it right there. Don’t move.”
“Don’t come any closer or I’ll cut his arm off.” The knife was really jammed into the countertop, so he couldn’t pull it up. That didn’t stop him from trying, though. I was getting weak from the blood loss, and I screamed in pain and fear. One of the policemen fired at Isaac. He missed the first time, but the second shot caught Isaac in the temple. Of course, I passed out before I really knew what was going on around me.
It’s embarrassing to note, but as the paramedics were taking me out, I remember coming to briefly and thinking, Wow. A brand-new 1967 Cadillac ambulance. That’s the last thing I remember about that evening.
Chapter Thirty-six