Life and Island Times: Motel

It was getting darker by the minute.

Steve pulled his bike alongside Augustus, turning and asking “Do you think we oughta stop for the night soon?”

“Yeah, I do. If it gets much darker, the road surface and direction might begin to get too hard to see for us to get along safely.”

As they entered the next town it was very dark. The town had no street lights. So their headlamps were the sole illumination of the town and its places. With the bike’s slow weaving back and forth across the empty road in search of a motel, headlight beams added various effects of light and dark, mood and tone to the surroundings and the rider in front of each of them. As something or someone passed in front of them, it would light up, stay still for a moment, before melting back into the dark invisibility. Finally one of the cycle headlights lit up a no longer functioning motel sign.

The Southern Motel violated all of Marlow’s rules for bargain motel room selection. It did not have functioning neon signage and appeared not to be at least one notch above scuzz. On the plus side, a hand written note in the office window did advertise clean sheets. Rooms were secured.

They gathered in Rex and Augustus’s room. Rex came over to Steve and Marlow and handed them disposable motel paper cups and then poured a large dollop of Bombay Sapphire gin in them. For Rex and Augustus that was their practice each night on the road.

Augustus took a generous swallow while Marlow and Rex just sipped. Steve would not have any, having stopped drinking spirits decades before. Wine was his sole choice for ethyl delivery.

With there being no restaurants or convenience stores around, they broke out our emergency snacks and trail mixes. They could only dream of steaks frying and comfy bench seats in some small town’s insubstantially lit diner.

As was his wont as a southern born and bred gentlemen from the Palmetto State, Augustus brought forth and served the riders the assembled collection of snacks from their packs.

Augustus ate his selection with great relish. He then said, “You know, we don’t have much longer to do these kinds of things.”

Rex: “I guess not, but I am damn sure glad we came. Damn glad. This was a great ride today. If not one of the greatest!”

They were relaxed with an alcohol elevated euphoria except for Augustus. He hadn’t lost his road vigilance – he remained ever ready and watchful. This made the others feel safe and secure except for Marlow.

Marlow, while looking directly at Augustus, had been chewing on something he and Augustus had argued over for years. Augustus always called these discussions learning opportunities. Undeterred by the previous lack of resolution on this topic, Marlow interjected “Today tells me that my feelings are true that there’s something out here on these roads that we have lost in our imperial city.”

Augustus: “We didn’t lose it. It was sold out from under us.”

Marlow: “We let em.” After a pause, he continued “In fact, we got part of the proceeds. We took the money, the benefits and the life.”

Rex: “At least we got in trade all this new technology – smart phones, the internet, 24/7 availability of anything/anywhere/anytime and such.”

Steve: “To say nothing of cable TV, Whole Foods, 16 screen cinemas and high end luxury goods malls.”

When this snappy exchange petered out several minutes later, they went to their respective beds and turned in for a night on clean sheets and near empty tummies.

The next morning approached under a shroud of mist which poured forth from the long valley they had exited just before the motel appeared the night before. The fog was piling out and up faster than the new day sun could burn it off.

Marlow was dressed in that day’s fresh riding clothes. They were serviceable but unmatched. With his stomach growling, he slipped out the door of his two man unit to find himself getting moister by the second in the off white colored mist. As he began to slowly and quietly walk away, you could see that he had scraps of paper and a pen in his hand. He tried but couldn’t find a place to do his morning’s written recollecting of and on the previous day’s events.

So, instead of just standing there, he decided to move about and discover what he was able in this great white stillness.

He moved very guardedly. This wasn’t play acting caution since there could be anything and everything out there from people to critters with their intentions, be they good, bad or indifferent.

A low guttural growl came from his far right out of the mist. It wasn’t that of a dog. So he edged on diagonally away from its source. He went on like this for thirty or forty careful steps until the edge of the road came into view beneath his feet. The growl had ceased and had not been followed by paw sounds or the breathy scenting that predators make when they’re on the trail of prey.

Marlow and his surroundings were a bit more visible now. He turned to go further along the road out beyond the town. He saw a creek off to the left and crossed over the road to see what he could see. It was still mostly full of fog.

He saw movement that quickly was covered by the mist. He bent down and peered at where the movement seemed to be headed. He waited for at least a minute before another clearing patch of air crossed his vision frame.

“Damn.” he hissed, when a young fawn was revealed in soft light. The little deer was browsing. It looked up and briefly at him but did not see him. The deer went back to its business. Marlow was awestruck by the beauty of that moment.

Suddenly they heard a rustle. The fawn looked again towards him. Marlow hadn’t moved. The deer was reassured and started to once again graze. Like a bolt of black lightening, a huge black wolf streaked into view, snatching the fawn’s neck and wringing it still.

The wolf had to have weighed 150 pounds or more and would have towered over Marlow had it stood on its hind legs. This was no East of the Mississippi sized black wolf. It was like the monster specimens hunters sometimes shot in Montana.

With its prey bleeding in his gleaming teeth, the wolf glared at Marlow almost daring him to come forward and challenge the wolf for his catch. This staring contest lasted for what seemed a minute before the wolf snorted loudly at him before soundlessly vanishing back into the mist with its prey nearly flag flapping behind it.

Marlow threw his pen and paper scraps down in anger.

After a minute to compose himself and wipe his eyes dry, he retrieved the paper and pen and started back noisily, not looking out for prey or predators. The mist was thinning out. Marlow could now make out the outlines of the motel sign.

As the mist finally disappeared, “That could have been me.” Marlow whispered.

He approached the rooms. Augustus and Rex were out front rolling their packs and securing them to their bikes, smiled and said wryly to him, “Look at what’s coming outta the mist!”

Without humor or irony, he said “Better me than the big bad wolf.”

Augustus knew Marlow’s morning writing routines from previous trips. He saw his empty pages and asked “What about it? Nothing on yesterday’s ride or sights?”

“I did but something just now happened that was bigger.”

“What could that have been? Find us a restaurant?”

“No. But meals around here are served. Just not the kind you want to attend.”

“That’s too bad. We could use a meal.”

“Or be one.”