"Happy trails," Dirk told me. I didn't reply.
"Can I get you anything else, honey?" the waitress asked. I ordered a coffee to go, and then paid and got into my car.
It was much darker now. I turned on my headlights, and just as I pulled out of the parking lot, the drizzle began. I turned on the radio to drown out the sound of the windshield wipers, sipped on my coffee, and continued down the highway. The rain got heavier and heavier. The wipers had trouble keeping up, and for long periods. I had to really slow down. When a car pulled in front of me abruptly. I hit my brakes and skidded to the side, drawing blaring horns from the cars whipping past.
All I needed now was to get into an accident. I thought. I practically crawled along when I resumed. The rain was not letting up. Finally. I gave in and decided I had to stop somewhere. I took the next exit and saw a billboard advertising the motel Dirk, the young truck driver, had recommended.
At least something good came of his poking into my business. I thought, and pulled into the motel driveway, stopping under the overhang in front of the office. I got out and went inside. I had to hit a bell to bring out an older balding man who had bushy gray sideburns and a light rust mustache.
"I need a room," I said. "It's raining too hard."
He squinted at me and then stepped up to the counter.
"We don't rent to anyone less than eighteen," he said. "You got proof you're more than eighteen?"
"Why is that?"
"Too many runaways these days," he replied.
"I'm heading to visit my uncle in El Paso, I'm not running away," I offered. He bit the side of his mouth and looked as if he were chewing on my answer. "I met Dirk at a diner, and he told me to stop here," I added quickly.
"Dirk Pearson? You know Dirk?"
"I just met him, but he thought this was a good stopover."
"Oh. Well, if Dirk recommended you. then I guess it's okay," he said.
I let out a breath and sired the book. When I paid him in cash, he looked very suspicious again. He gave me the key to room 8C and told me where it was. I had to drive around the corner of the building to an adjoining section that looked like an afterthought. I saw two tractor trailers parked in the lot and about four other cars. It was raining so hard now I was nearly soaked to the skin just going from my car to the motel-room door. The key didn't work too easily, either, and it took a few tries to get the door opened.
When I got inside. I went right to the bathroom and wiped my soaked hair. The room did look all right, even though the furniture was very worn and faded, and the lighting was dull, giving everything a yellowish glow. The table by the bed was stained with cigarette burns, but the sheet and the cover sheet were clean. The sight of the pillow and mattress was so inviting it wouldn't have mattered much if it was filthy, I thought,
I put on a long nightshirt and, without brushing my teeth or anything, crawled into bed. The rain on the roof sounded like flocks of birds pecking away. It was constant enough to drone me into a deep sleep, however, and moments later. I was drifting into a welcomed silence.
Before morning. I was visited by terrible nightmares. The one that snapped my eyes open and made me shudder was the vision of that young tuck driver. Dirk, sitting in the chair across from my bed, watching me sleep and smiling. When I did open my eves. I was so unfamiliar with my surroundings I was sure the silhouette I saw was indeed him. I couldn't breathe. After a moment. I realized it was not anyone. It was the standing lamp.
I turned on the lights and gazed around. The rain had stopped or nearly stopped. The clock at the side of the bed read five- twenty. I was still quite tired and decided to sleep a few more hours. so I turned off the light and lay back again.
- I'm alone, I thought. I might be alone for a very long time. I had better get used to being frightened; and I had better get tougher inside, or have to crawl back to Brenda and Celia.
It was actually hunger that woke me again. I had slept more than a few hours. It was nearly nine o'clock. My stomach growled, and visions of eggs and bacon, soft rolls and butter, juice and coffee came rushing at me. I had eaten so little. It didn't surprise me, but I was determined to control my hunger.
The next time Brenda sees me, I thought, she - won't be able to recognize me.
Interesting. I realized as I washed and dressed. how I expected to see Brenda again and even soon. What kind of a runaway was I?
I got into my car quickly, and stopped at the office to return the room key. This time, there was a young man behind the counter. He had beady black eyes and hair down his neck and over his ears that actually looked like a black mop had been draped over his head. He was unshaven and had a cigarette, unlit, dangling out of the corner of his mouth.
He looked surprised when I appeared. Then he remembered what I imagined his father had told him.
"You're 8C," he said.
"Not anymore." I told him dropping the key on the counter. "Where's the closest place to get some breakfast?"
"Child's, between here and the highway." he replied. He looked either so bored or so exhausted himself that he would have to keep his eyes open with paper clips.
I thanked him and left.
At Child's, which was a very busy little restaurant, I ordered a glass of orange juice and two soft-boiled eggs. The aroma of bacon and ham and the sight of stacks of delicious pancakes with syrup running down the sides made my stomach twist and turn in agony, but I held to my dieting and even decided to drink my coffee black. I ate as quickly as I could. so I wouldn't be confronted with all the good food, and got back onto the highway after I got gas again.