Motel. Pool. Read Online Free PDF

across the table, and he decided they were a couple. He smiled at them, but they didn’t smile back.
    Not too many cars passed by on the highway, and Lillian’s chatter with the cook was oddly muted. Jack felt as if he were floating somewhere uncharted and timeless, a pleasant sort of purgatory that smelled of syrup and grilled meat.
    He smoked all his cigarettes and bought a fresh pack from Lillian. She gave him a book of matches too, sporting a cheery yellow cover with a bright blue cartoon bird singing on a branch.
    He left her a five-dollar tip, which she tried to refuse. But he shook his head. “I bet those grandkids could use some new toys. Get them something nice.” She thanked him, but her eyes were troubled.
    The evening air had cooled considerably, and he shivered a bit as he walked back to the motel. He’d skip the swimming after all, since he was too full anyway. Moths whirled and spun around a single bright bulb that illuminated the pay phone outside the lobby. Jack lifted the receiver.
    “Operator. How may I help you?”
    “I’d like to make a collect call.”
    As he waited, he thought about lightning bugs. He and Betty used to run around the yard, collecting fireflies in jars. But he stopped when he was fourteen, after learning that the insects were blinking to attract mates. Who was he to stand in the way of love?
    “Whatta ya want?” The familiar voice was gruff and slightly slurred. Sam had already been hitting the whiskey heavily.
    “I’m… I need some help.”
    “You ran through that cash already?”
    “No, it’s not that. I’m… I’m stranded. My car broke down.”
    “Call a goddamn taxi, kid.”
    “I’m in Arizona, Sam. I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere. There aren’t any taxis.”
    “What the hell are you doing in Arizona?”
    Jack waited for a big truck to rumble by before he answered. “It doesn’t matter. But I’m stuck.”
    “And whatta ya want me to do about it?”
    “Come get me. Take me back to LA.”
    On the other end of the line, ice rattled and glass clinked. “To do what? You want me to introduce you to my friend with the car dealerships?”
    Jack had heard the phrase seeing red but had never actually experienced it—until now. The world flashed so bright for a moment that he almost thought a nuclear bomb had gone off. He fought to get his voice under control. “I’m going to come back and star in that picture you’re making. I’m going to play Hunter Reeves.”
    “We talked about this, kid. Ain’t gonna happen. Stop fighting it—you’ll give yourself ulcers.”
    “You’re going to give me that part, Sam. Because if you don’t, I’ll find Miller from Whisper or maybe that guy from Confidential , and I’ll tell him all about us. I’ll tell him exactly when you fucked me and where, and show him everything you bought me. I’ll give him the names of everyone who ever came to one of your parties. I’ll talk all about how Benny Baxter caught your attention.”
    Sam was silent for a long time, and when he did speak, his tone was low. “You don’t want to do this, kid.”
    “Yeah? Why not? What’ve I got to lose? I don’t have a career to ruin. I don’t have anything—” His voice broke and he had to stop.
    More glass clinking, and Sam sighed. “We’ll talk about this in person. Phone’s no good for this shit. Where the fuck are you?”
    “I don’t know. Jasper Motel, room 206. It’s about thirty miles east of Flagstaff.”
    “See you tomorrow.”
    Sam hung up.
    Jack went upstairs, dug a bottle out of his suitcase, kicked off his shoes, and dropped a coin in the slot on the TV. Gunsmoke was on. James Arness’s chin was too prominent and he had puffy bags under his eyes. But when he swaggered down a dirt street with his holster slung low on his hips and his hat cocked at a slight angle, you couldn’t help but watch him. Couldn’t help but want to be him or have sex with him, or maybe both. The camera loved him.
    By the time the