Chapter Two

Tina Sonnier parked the black 1964 Cadillac parked in front of Masquerade Motel and killed the engine, the radio dying instantaneously. She rested her head on the steering wheel, beat to near exhaustion, yet her heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. She looked behind her, not towards the back seat, not the trunk, but what was sewn in the seats and what was in the trunk.

            Drugs.  

            It had been one hundred and twenty hours since she had left her home in Florida with her cargo in tow, and it had been at least a day or two since she had gotten sleep. Her eyes felt like they were about to snap shut on her, but she persisted to stay awake, at least until she went inside.

            She grabbed the steaming cup of coffee out of the cup holder and drank a long, slow sip, the warmth granting her some relief from her sleepiness. It was like a sudden blast of energy had flown into her body.

            Tina stepped out of the car and slowly walked towards the door before her that read Management in big gold letters. She twisted the knob, a soft creaking squeak emitting, and walked inside. The room was small, only big enough to hold a desk, bookshelf, and a small fridge in the corner. The desk was small, only big enough to fit a computer monitor and a small cash register. Nobody appeared to be in the room. Maybe the manager’s behind the desk or something, she thought.

            The door behind her opened up, and she spun around violently. She had expected somebody to be there with a crowbar or a giant butcher knife, ready to rip her guts out and stick her to a pole. But, to her surprise, there wasn’t a psycho murderer waiting to hack her brains out; instead, it was a short, old man with a balding head of hair and small thin spectacles resting on his nose. There was a broad smile on his aged face.

            “Can I help you with something, young lady?” the old man asked.

            Tina uttered a slight laugh. “Yes, I would like a room, please.”

            “Sure thing,” he said. He moved past her and towards the desk in the back. Above it on the wall was a board with twelve keys hanging off of little hooks, each of which had a small golden number below. He grabbed the key for room 9 and handed it to Tina.

            “It’s seventy-five for the night,” the old man said, pressing a button on the cash register. The bottom opened up with a chiming noise ringing out. Tina reached into her pocket and handed the man a crumpled-up hundred-dollar bill. He flattened the bill out and stared at it with surprised eyes, having to push his glasses up so that he could see more clearly. After a couple seconds or so, he walked behind the desk and put the hundred in the register, pulling out the exact change and handing it to Tina, who stuffed it into her jeans pocket

            “You look like you haven’t slept in awhile,” he said.

            “No, it’s just my eye makeup,” she lied. She knew she probably wore too much eye makeup, but, under the fading mascara would probably be thick, dark bags under her eyes.

            “I can take your bags up to your room, if you want,” the old man said, heading towards the door.

            But Tina stopped him short. “No thanks, I’ll just get it in the morning.”

            “Okay,” he said, “is the Cadillac outside yours?” Tina nodded in reply. “They don’t make cars like those anymore, do they? Man, I would give anything to have a car like that.”

            If only you knew.

            The old man opened the door and held it open for Tina. “Room nine is up those stairs and to your left. And, if you need anything, just come by my office. My name is Bob.” Bob shook her hand, walked her out of the office, and shut the door gently.

            Tina headed down the rows of rooms, up the small flight of old wooden steps, and to her left, opening the door to room nine. It was a small place, with a small bed, bathroom, and kitchen. Every item in the room, from the small table in the corner to the twenty-inch square television in front of the bed, barely fit; there was almost no walking space available. Tina made her way towards the bed, and collapsed on top, falling asleep immediately.