Jackson had been down this highway in Arkansas many times before, but somehow, it still looked different. It had been awhile since he drove through here with his father when he was a teenager, but he still expected it to look like it had in his dreams over the last few months.
The car continued to wind along down the road, surrounded on both sides by a mixture of woods, small farms, and the occasional gas station. There were few lights along the side of the road, and the barns and house stood like ghostly specters deep in the trees as the car twisted along the two lane blacktop.
At last, he crested the hill, and saw the small city limits sign at the side of the road. Welcome to lovely Mountain View, Arkansas! He smiled slightly, surprised at the jitters that were starting to flutter about in his stomach.
Jackson followed Main Street around to the right, looking for the street that would lead him to the home he'd never seen. He saw the sign, almost as he was passing it, and turned back into the small valley back into the hills at the far edge of town. The asphalt ran into gravel, and about a half mile farther back, Jackson saw the sign of the motel he had reserved for the next few days. John Taylor's Laid Back Inn...it seemed so appropriate a name for a California boy so far from home.
And if his plans went anything like he imagined, being laid back was all he expected to do for the next few days.
The tires crunched across the gravel as he pulled up to the dimly lighted office. He shut off the motor, but remained seated in the car, listening to the popping of the car's motor as it slowly cooled in the chilly January night. He found his hands didn't want to let go of the steering wheel, but the man behind the desk inside started staring at him, so he slowly flexed his fingers, grabbed the door handle and stepped out of the car. He walked across the short distance to the steps, walked up and entered the small rental office.
"G'evenin' mister. Ya looking fer a room fer tonight?" the grey haired man behind the counter asked with a smile, while he tapped on the counter with the end of an chewed ball point pen.
"Hi. My name is Jackson Moore...I had a reservation for the next four days?" Jackson replied. "A small cabin, near the back?"
"Ohhhh, yea-uh, I remembers you now. Gotcha all set back in Cabin 12, it's a way back by the crick, and it should be plenty quiet fer ya back there. Any partikular reason you wanted to be so fer back? My name is Glen, by the way..." The man smiled amiably as his pen continued tapping a staccato beat on the faded Formica counter.
"I'm a writer, and I'm just looking for a few quiet days to work out a new story line or two. If you don't mind, I'd prefer not to be bothered at all while I'm here."
"Not a problem at all, son...these ARE Taylor's Laid Back Cabins...you jest settle yerself in back there, and it'll be quiet as a church. The place is pretty empty this time of year, what with it bein' so cold 'n all...jest sign the register here, and here's the key...y'all enjoy yer stay with us now, and if there's anything we can do fer ya, just give us a ring!"
Jackson dropped the key in his pocket, flashed Glen a parting smile and slipped back out to his rental car. He started the engine and followed the road around to the back of the motel grounds until he found Cabin 12, right where Glen had said it would be, about twenty feet from a small creek that ran along the bottom of the valley and out of sight to the south.
He parked the car at the foot of the stairs, climbed out and stepped to the trunk to collect the one small bag he had brought with him. He looked up at the cabin and chuckled at its rustic appearance. "Just what I was looking for!" he mumbled under his breath..."It'll be just like being Jed Clampett for a few days!".
He carefully stepped up the icy stairs, slipped the key in the lock and pushed the door in slowly. What he saw seemed to be exactly what he had expected from the pictures on the internet. The little cabin was very plain and homey, with knotty pine paneling and large rough hewn wooden beams holding up the ceilings. A large rag rug covered most of the hardwood floor, with several cheap prints adorning the walls. To his right was a small bathroom with a slightly rusty two spigot sink and to the left was a large bed with an overstuffed mattress and a thick, old fashioned quilt folded at the foot. He sat on the bed and kicked off his shoes, then lay back onto the soft mattress and closed his eyes. Within a few seconds, he was snoring softly, completely dead to the world.
Sometime early the next morning, Jackson woke to the slightest tapping on the door to the cabin. At first, he wasn't sure, but then the sound came again, a light tap, tap, tap, then the doorknob rattled a little, followed by another series of light taps. He sat there on the bed a moment longer, and then almost without knowing how, he found himself on his feet and heading to the door.
He could see through the windows that it was still quite dark outside, but he had no idea of the actual time, as he had left his watch out in the car the night before. He knew that it could only be one person at the door at this hour of the night, and he reached out for the knob, his hand shaking slightly. He felt his heart jump up into his throat as he slowly undid the lock and twisted the knob, peering around the edge of the door as it cracked open.
He saw her face in the early morning darkness, looking hesitant and unsure. "Well, hello, stranger! Mind if I come in?" she drawled softly. He pulled the door open wide as she stepped through, and her hand touched his on the knob as she pushed the door closed behind her, pulling his hand naturally around the small of her back. He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her body hard against his, and without a word leaned into her, his eyes locked on hers, and lowered his mouth directly to hers. Their lips touched and instantly opened, tongues dancing together with increasing force and speed, their heads twisting form side to side as his other hand came up into her hair, forcing her mouth even more firmly to his.
Her hands slid around his back as she groaned into his mouth, crushing her body into his, her hips grinding against his and pushing him backwards towards the bed. When his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he fell back, never losing his hold on her body or her mouth.
Her hands slid down to the bottom of his shirt and frantically began dragging it up from under his belt, freeing it then yanking at the buttons to get it open. He opened his eyes momentarily to see her eyes a fraction of an inch away, begging silently as their tongues continued flicking and twisting together, her lips smashing his down with almost painful force.