by Jw Schnarr
Maybe Alice would spit on her before she left. Dorothy wouldn’t blame her. She was a weak and pitiful thing. An ugly thing. Nobody ever loved ugly. Dorothy started to cry, and lifted her face to the shower head. The movement was a familiar one. Letting the hot water pound her face while she wept would keep her tears from staining her face. It was a trick she’d learned early in her life and put to good use.
Thing was, she hadn’t lied about everything on those tests. Some things she’d been truthful about. She really did think the world was out to get her sometimes. It just felt like she was going to spend the rest of her life digging herself out of a hole left behind by her childhood. Random chance had taken her parents from her, left her scared and confused and terribly lonely. Aunt Emily and Uncle Henry had been nice enough, but taking kids in was their job, and with all those other needy hearts begging for attention her own little voice could get lost. She was just a paycheck, and that was that. Sure her dad and Uncle Henry had been war buddies, but when her dad died she saw the change come over Henry’s face, a change that said you mean nothing more to me than how much the government will pay to keep you in food and clothes.
So Dorothy started spending all her time in her room with her dolls, writing stories of distant lands and little girls who were unlikely heroes in their own little dramas. She started watching the Weather Channel and reading up on Tornados, and how they were a mix of different fronts crashing together. She saw the parallels to her life perfectly, and the more she watched those twisting balls of chaos on television the more sure she was about it.
By the time she stole the car and headed toward Kansas, she could almost tell herself Oz was out there waiting for her somewhere.
But of course, it was all a load of bullshit. Dr Weller had been right in his assessment of her; she’d been trying to kill herself. She’d just been able to rationalize it as a way to get to a magical land she’d made up on her own, and maybe that place existed because she thought about it enough and wished hard enough to make it so. Then again, maybe not.
If she’d been anyone else, a strong woman, like Alice, she would have never headed toward that tornado. She would have gone out on her own and made something of herself. But she had no direction and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do to make her life unfold the way it should. She supposed that was what marriage was for, so she could stay at home and be blissfully dependant on a man to make all her decisions for her. Do all her thinkin’, like a good woman was supposed to.
She couldn’t though, because she was young enough to believe love was the most important reason to get married and old enough to realize that being attracted to women was more than just confusion brought on by her sadness, like Pastor Dave had told her at confession, that it was who she was and it was about the only thing she was completely certain of.
Dorothy reached down for the bar of soap perched on the soap dish and let it drop down to the drain by her feet. The bottom of the soap was covered in a slick, lumpy red mess that ran clean in the shower. The water that had collected in the soap dish was pink and flecked more red. It was blood, and she knew it right away, the way you instinctively knew when a dog was wagging its tail but wasn’t being friendly, or how you could always tell when a spider was about to drop off the ceiling and land on you. Sometimes, you just knew. The soap had blood all over it.
She looked down at the little packs of shampoo and conditioner and saw they were torn open and used. The empty packs had been discarded. Had they not bothered to clean the suite before they rented it out? She hit the water and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed at the towels on the wall and found the top one damp. She picked it up and rubbed it between her fingers. There was more blood on the towel, washed pink with water.
The first thought that went through Dorothy’s head was that Alice was bleeding again, and maybe Rabbit had messed her up worse than she was letting on. And maybe she was not only hurt but possibly trying to hide it from Dorothy. Why would she? And if she was hiding this could she be hiding other things?
There was something on the mirror. Dorothy moved closer so she could see it better. There were lines coming up where the steam had clouded the mirror over, revealing what Dorothy thought looked like tiny pussies, and then quickly saw that they were eyes. In the center of the mirror was a big one, unlidded, glaring into the bathroom with the words I AM ALWAYS WITH YOU scrawled under it.
There’s no telling how long that has been there was how her mind processed the image. These motels didn’t get cleaned too often from the looks of things, so that was certainly plausible. But how long would the oil from a fingertip last on a mirror so it would still affect the shower steam? Hours maybe. Not days.
Maybe it was just a cool art project Alice had done while waiting for her hair to dry. Maybe...but that didn’t quite sit with Dorothy either. She suddenly had a flash of their time in the hospital, right after Alice had woken up from the shot Dr Weller had given her to put her down, and Dorothy had started telling her about Oz. What had she called it?
“ ...it’s like duality. Like two worlds overlapping each other. Like when two TV channels are coming in on the same station and you can see them both...”
She hadn’t paid attention when Alice had first said it, but what if Alice had been hinting at her own life and not relating to Dorothy’s troubles as she’d first thought? It made sense when Dorothy thought about what Alice had told her last night, about how she had pulled something through her dreams and it wouldn’t go back. She looked at the mirror again and a shiver of fear prickled her neck. Is Alice truly crazy?
Then another thought popped into Dorothy’s mind.
Did it really matter?
A moment later: No. It didn’t really matter. It was the two of them against the world. That’s what mattered now. It wasn’t even a choice really; Dorothy’s heart had chosen for her already. She felt connected to Alice’s soul. Like they were extensions of each other. She wasn’t going to give that up for anything. And when people started looking for her, or the police came like Alice said, they’d just run away and find somewhere else to be happy. A home on the beach. Oz. It didn’t matter.
Like Alice had said: The open road could be our plaything. She liked the sound of that. Besides, Alice had saved her life in Rabbit’s house. Saved her from being raped. If Alice needed a little help now and then telling her fantasies from her realities, Dorothy could certainly help her with that. She was a bit of an expert, after all.
There was a knock at the bathroom door.
“Hey, you fall in or something?” Alice said from the other side.
“Just making myself pretty for you,” Dorothy said sweetly.
“Hell, you don’t even have to try to do that,” Alice said.
“Aww,” Dorothy said. “You’re a sweet thing. I think I’m going to keep you.”
“Deal. Now get your hot ass out here. I really need to pee.”
“Be right out,” Dorothy said. “Just one more thing to do.” She looked back into the mirror, then grabbed her towel and scrubbed off all the glaring eyes and the words I AM ALWAYS WITH YOU. Then she wrapped herself in the towel and popped open the door. “Good morning, Sunshine,” Dorothy said, smiling.
Alice smiled back. There was dried blood on her teeth. It looked like brown scabs stuck to the enamel.
“Ugh,” Dorothy said. “Brush your teeth while you’re in there. Your mouth looks like a train wreck.”
“Thanks,” Alice said, and Dorothy laughed.
“I’m going to check,” Dorothy said, kissing Alice on the cheek. “So hurry up.”
“Sounds good to me,” Alice said. She disappeared behind the bathroom door.
When the water in the sink started running, Dorothy went and sat down on the bed. I AM ALWAYS WITH YOU flashed in her thoughts. It was almost comforting, if she could forget all those awful eyes Alice had drawn around it. Beautiful even. She could make it beautiful, if she put her mind to it. She could train herself to believe almost a
nything. She pictured Alice whispering it sweetly into her ear. I am always with you. I love you.
She felt better about it already. She was still feeling good about it a few minutes later when there was a series of sharp knocks at the door. Dorothy threw it open without thinking; the smile on her face melted into a look of horror.
The two police officers standing in the doorway weren’t smiling at all.
Chapter 25
They stared at each other from across the threshold. Dorothy had a hand on the door and the other on the wall; like she was using her own body as a last line of defense from intruders. Gawd, she thought. This is just like the hospital all over again—
“Excuse me,” The first officer said, holding up a clipboard. “Sorry to bother you, but there’s been an incident in the motel office, and we’re going room to room checking names and looking for witnesses. Who are you?”
“Dorothy Gale,” she said immediately, without thought. She instantly regretted her words.
“Are you alone in here?” One cop was jotting down her name in a small notebook. The other stared her down hard. He’s waiting for me to crack, she thought. One misstep and he’ll be on me like a pitbull.
Already, Dorothy felt like a cornered cat. Talking to police had a way of doing that. Especially when you had something to hide. Like stealing a drug dealer’s car after nearly killing him and breaking out of the psychiatric floor of a General Hospital. And Alice had been confined there, so if they found her they might take her back. Or worse. It would be better to tell them she was alone.
On the other hand, if she walked out of the bathroom after Dorothy told them she was alone they’d want to know why she’d lied about her presence, and would almost certainly do some kind of background check. Maybe there was still a way out of this though...
“I’m alone, officer.” Dorothy said loudly. Hopefully loud enough for Alice to hear.
“Okay,” The cop said. “No need to yell. We have a bit of a discrepancy here, between you and the logbook. Says there shouldn’t be anyone in here right now, and yet here you are. Can we see some I.D. please?”
“Yeah,” Dorothy said. She stepped back from the door and grabbed her wallet off the table. She slipped her license out of its holder and handed it to him. Then she bit her lip and looked up at the cop with her most helpless face. “I didn’t have a credit card, so that guy behind the glass said he’d take cash and keep it off the books. Umm...”
“Something else?” the cop said. The officer standing behind him snickered, looked down for a moment, then looked away.
“I kinda had to...do...something. For him,” Dorothy said. She made a little curtsy when she said it, as though the words were heavy on her shoulders and she was unused to carrying the weight.
“Oh yeah?” the cop said. “Like something, what? Something sexual?”
“I don’t really want to say, because I know you’re not supposed to do it. For favours, I mean,” Dorothy squeaked.
“That’s true. You’re definitely not,” the cop said.
“I didn’t have a credit card,” Dorothy said again. She tried to look as sweet as possible. Please don’t come out right now Alice, she thought.
“Okay, Dorothy Gale,” The cop said. “So when did you get here?”
“Last night,” Dorothy said. “I stopped for Burger King and then came here about nine o’clock I guess, and it was dead here. Like, nobody in the parking lot, nuthin. That’s why that guy said I could have a room even though I didn’t have a credit card. Then he said, “Oh, you’re going to have to give me something in return, because if you trash the room while you’re in here I’m gonna get shit canned.” And I said like what? And he said Well, why don’t you come in here and we’ll talk about it. And I knew what he wanted because he had that look in his eyes men sometimes get, like they don’t see a person standing in front of them but maybe a big juicy steak or something, but I went in there anyway because it was raining and cold and I didn’t want to sleep in my car again and sometimes it isn’t such a huge deal, if they’re clean down there, I mean I’ve done it before for my boyfriends and it was okay. I just felt like such a piece of garbage after though. I finished up and he didn’t even look at me...he just tossed the keys and told me not to trash the room again.”
Dorothy was weepy and high-voiced by the time she stopped talking, and now she looked up at the officer with wet eyes and said, “I know it’s bad and it makes me a bad person and I’m so sorry, but it was raining outside and I just wanted a hot shower and somewhere warm to sleep for a couple days.”
“Okay,” the officer said, his voice softening. “Just calm down. It’s not the end of the world, people are just jerks sometimes and they take advantage of sweet little things. This is a bad neighbourhood for a girl like you. There are wolves around every corner.”
Cute is the best weapon I have. “I’m sorry,” Dorothy said. She wiped tears from her cheeks and bit her lip.
“So, did you hear anything last night at all?” The cop said. “Like shouting, or screaming or anything?”
“Umm,” Dorothy said, pursing her lips in thought. “Nope,” she said. I came in here, washed my mouth and brushed my teeth like four times, then had a shower and went to bed with the T.V. on. Why?”
“Did you see anyone strange? Anything that stuck out in your mind at all? Like someone sitting in their car for a long time, or any strange people hanging around?”
“I’m from the country,” Dorothy said. “They’re all strange to me. But no, nobody. There were some cars in the lot, but I didn’t notice anybody in ‘em. Why?”
“The motel manager was murdered last night,” the cop said gravely. “Some kind of ritual killing, from the looks of it. Happened sometime before dawn, when the guy who delivers papers showed up and found him.”
“Oh my God,” Dorothy said, covering her mouth with her hands. “I just...I mean. Oh God! And I...Ohhh, I don’t feel so good.”
“Calm down,” the cop said. He put a hand on Dorothy’s shoulder.
Dorothy reached for it, giving him a quick squeeze and flashing a sad smile. “I just feel so awful. Do you know who did it?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” the officer standing in the back said. He was lanky and hiding behind his Aviator shades.
“We don’t have anyone in custody just yet,” the first cop said. “Right now we’re just going from room to room making sure everyone is where they should be.”
“And I’m not,” Dorothy said. “Oh, I’m so sorry I came here now. I should have never left Kansas.”
“Well, unfortunately, the motel is shut down while we do our investigation, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to find another place to stay. Do you have any friends or family in town you can stay with?”
“No,” Dorothy whimpered. I’m going to have to find another motel I guess. I’m up here looking for work and trying to get a place of my own. I want to go to school next year, if I can save up enough money.”
“Smart decision,” the cop said. “I wish my daughter made smart decisions like that.”
“Is she the same age as me?” Dorothy asked. Her eyelids fluttered sweetly.
“Just a couple years older, from the looks of it,” the cop said. “No school for her though. She seems to think Daddy’s going to be around to pay the bills forever.”
“Aww,” Dorothy said. “You sound like a good dad. She’s very lucky to have you.”
“Oh I know,” the cop said. “I’m sure she’ll realize it one day, too.”
“She knows.” Dorothy said. “Believe me. She knows.”
“Anyway,” the cop said, withdrawing his hand from Dorothy’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you with my card, and if you remember anything could you call it in?”
“Absolutely, officer,” Dorothy said, taking the card from his outstretched hand. “Anything I can do to help.”
“It’s usually something little that you don’t think is important,” the cop said. “That’
s the kind of stuff that makes the best leads. So if you remember anything at all, no matter how small a thing you think it is, just ring us up and let us know.”
“I will,” Dorothy said. “Promise.”