"We already passed Little Rock. This is Biscoe coming up."

"We passed Little Rock? I told you I wanted to stop," I whispered hoarsely.

"What was I supposed to do? You had the map and you were sound asleep. I had no idea where the airport was, and I didn't want to drive all over hell and gone trying to find it."

"Why not wake me?"

"I tried once. I said your name and got no response."

"Weren't there any road signs?"

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"Not that I saw. Besides, they're not going to have any flights out at this hour. This is the boonies. Get a clue," she whispered back. She reverted to a normal tone, though she kept her voice down in deference to Ray. "It's time to find a motel so we can get a couple hours' sleep. I'm half dead. I about ran off the road more than once in the last hour."

I did a three-sixty scan of the terrain, spotting little in the dark beyond farms and occasional dense woods. "Take your pick," I said.

"There'll be a town coming up," she said without concern.

Sure enough, we came to a townlet with a one-story off-road motel, its vacancy sign winking. She pulled into a small gravel parking lot and got out. She turned her back to the car and reached up under her jumper, apparently removing a wad of cash from the belly harness she wore. I gave Ray a nudge and he rose from the depths like a diver in the process of decompressing.

I said, "Laura wants to stop. We're both beat."

"Fine with me," he said. He pulled himself into a sitting position, blinking with puzzlement. "We still in Texas?"

"This is Arkansas. We got Little Rock behind us and Memphis coming up."

"I thought you were leaving us."

"So did I."

He yawned, giving his face a dry rub with his hands. He squinted at his watch, trying to see the dial in the scanty light. "What time is it?"

"After one."

I could see Laura at the entrance to the motel lobby. The lights inside were dim, and the front door must have been locked because I saw her knock repeatedly, then cup her hands against the glass to peek in. Finally, some unhappy-looking soul emerged from the manager's office. Much animated conversation, hand gestures, and peering in our direction. Laura was admitted to the office, where I saw her at the counter, filling out the registration card. My guess was her being pregnant lent her an air of vulnerability, especially at this hour. A fistful of cash probably didn't hurt her cause. Moments later, she emerged from the office and returned to the car, dangling two room keys, which she handed to me as she got back behind the wheel. "Ray gets his own room. I can't sleep with that racket."

She started the car and pulled around to the rear. Ours were the last two rooms at the far end. There was only one other car and it had Iowa plates, so I figured we were temporarily safe from Gilbert. Ray hauled one of his bags from the trunk while Laura grabbed the duffel and I took the armload of damp clothes I'd dumped. Maybe hanging them up overnight would finish the drying process and render them wearable.

Ray paused at his door. "What time in the morning?"

"I think we should be on the road by six. If we're going, get on with it. No point fooling around," Laura said. "Open your drapes when you're up and we'll do likewise." She glanced at me. "Okay with you?"

"Sure, it's fine."

Ray disappeared into his room and I followed her into ours: two double beds and a drab interior complete with mustiness. If the color beige had an odor, it would smell like this. It looked like the kind of place where you wouldn't want to jump out of bed without making a noise first. Otherwise, you might inadvertently step on one of the scuttling hard-shelled bugs. The little fellow I saw had gotten trapped in the corner, where he was patiently pawing the walls like a dog wanting out. You can't squish those things without risking that sudden spurt of lemon pudding on the sole of your shoe. I hung my garments in the closet, after a gingerly inspection. No brown recluse spiders or furry rodents in evidence.

The bathroom boasted brown vinyl tile, a fiberglass shower enclosure, two plastic glasses wrapped in cellophane, and two paper-wrapped soaps the size of business cards. I pulled out my traveling toothbrush and weensy tube of toothpaste and brushed my teeth in wordless ecstasy. In the absence of a nightie, I slept in my (borrowed) underwear, folding the cotton coverlet in half for warmth. Laura went into the bathroom, piously shutting the door before she removed her belly harness. I was asleep within minutes and never heard her climb into her own creaking bed.




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