The Malibu pulled into the unpaved parking space just in front of the office of the Traveller's Lodge. The ten room strip motel was just off the side of the roadway, located between here and there in the middle of the forest. There were only two other cars parked outside when Bonnie and Donovan had arrived.
Normally, Bonnie was able to drive much longer into the night. Though she wasn't exactly tired, she felt like she had needed a break. She and Donovan had barely spoken to each other for the last couple of hours. Unsurprisingly, he seemed fine with that, but she was less so. She continuously shifted in her seat, sitting stiff and upright for most of the way. That awkward feeling lingering between them like a suffocating curtain had distracted her enough to fade what had happened in the forest into a dreamy haze.
For a portion of the drive, she had felt like she should try to summon some sort of contempt for what he had pulled on her, yell at him or scold him or something. The conflicting thought was that if she did any of that, her tirade would end up with her kicking him out of the car or Donovan electing to leave on his own. God help her, she wasn't ready to leave him on the side of the road just yet.
She was relieved when she spotted the lights of the first motel they came across.
Bonnie turned off her engine and sat there for a moment, staring ahead over the wheel. She hadn't stopped to consider the room arrangements for the evening.
As always, his actions provided her with the answer. Donovan got out of the car first and Bonnie followed. She looked over the roof at the car toward him as he reached down to grab his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and started to walk away from the motel.
Bonnie asked anxiously, "Where are you going?" Was he leaving?
He turned and said, "I'll find a spot somewhere to bunk... by a tree or something."
"Oh." She nodded. Despite herself, she asked, "Are you sure?" As if there was any other option.
"Well, if you want to continue on by yourself tomorrow," he replied, "then I'll walk on down the road and try to catch another ride."
Confounding man. Confounding man. Inwardly, Bonnie fumed like a boiling pot. "No," she chirped, shrugging as if a feather had landed on her shoulder, "you can keep riding along with me tomorrow."
Donovan backed across the road. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "Have a good night."
Bonnie watched him as he blended into the darkness and the trees. She walked towards the office and paused by the doorway, turning to look again at the forest. She rubbed her neck, grimaced, and sighed, "Lordy, I hope there aren't any bears out there."
*
Bonnie sat at the bottom of the bed, legs crossed, feeling a bit more refreshed. After a quick shower, she had changed into some comfy clothes: white, soft cotton shorts, and a loose yellow short-sleeve top. Her eyes closed, she rolled her head around slowly, easing the little twists and knots that had wended into her neck and back during the long drive.
She opened her eyes and scanned the room again. When she had first entered Room Nine, she was relieved that it was clean at least, since it was usually more miss than hit for places like this. It was dated and cheap to be sure, with faux wood panel on the walls, and furniture and floral bed covering likely harvested from thrift shops. The blue carpet was a little squishy underfoot, but not damp. Even with every light turned on, the room was still glazed in a lonely, dim, yellow glow.
But wow, the bathroom was certainly bright. Antiseptically white tiles, tub, and sink awash in the light of what must have been a bare, 100 watt bulb. Either she had walked into the halo of Heaven or an interrogation room, Bonnie couldn't decide. Honestly, she was just happy that there was decent water pressure from the shower.
Bonnie munched on some nachos as she sat on the bed. In her haste to find a place to lodge for the evening, she had forgotten about dinner. Not that she had passed many dining options along the way, but she could have probably picked up a sandwich at a gas station. While her lunch would probably have been enough to tide her over for one night, she still couldn't resist tearing open a bag of nachos. Besides, they went perfectly with her can of beer. The bubbly, tasty, amber liquid tickled down her throat most gratifyingly and helped blush a healthy pink glow in her cheeks.
As the alcohol coursed through her, her mind wandered a bit as her head turned towards the window. She stared at it as if she could see through the dizzying peacock-tail patterns of the heavy curtains. Somewhere out there in the forest and dark was Donovan. He was probably more relaxed and comfy lying on the dirt under some tree than she was right now, sitting on a lumpy bed.
Thoughts from the day seeped into her addled brain, each marked by her interactions with the lone hitchhiker: passing him on the desert highway the first time, accepting his help with her flat tire, picking him up, and making the detour to that hidden grotto. At that point, her thoughts became more vivid and raw, like experiencing the world unfiltered. From the moment she watched him take a shower at the grotto, to somehow ending up on top of her trunk kissing him, clutching at him, surrendering to him as he brought her to a dripping climax, every sense in her had seemed to have gone into overdrive. Then moments later, they were back on the road, acting just as if they had stopped to take pictures of some innocuous landmark.
It was like she had been pulled out of a mirage. Now she didn't know what reality she wanted to live in.
Putting aside her indecision for the moment with a heavy, yet wholly unsatisfying, sigh, she finished her can of beer and immediately cracked open another. She picked up a remote, pointed it at the television -flat panel, but maybe an inch larger than a toaster oven- and switched it on, immediately casting her face in a ghostly glow. Her finger twitched rapidly on the buttons, firing through thirty channels of sports news, infomercials, old sitcoms, and dead air. She probably went through three revolutions in a minute before giving up and leaving it on a channel broadcasting an old Friends episode, just for the sake of having some white noise fill the room.
A short while after she finished her second can of beer, she slowly fell back into the bed. She held up her car keys and regarded it for a couple of minutes, the lucky rabbit's foot dangling above her. Eventually, she passed out.
*
"Whuzzat?" Bonnie sat up in bed suddenly, roused by what she thought was a voice. She blinked then squinted, focusing on the television. A repeat episode of Law & Order was now playing. As she scratched her head and rubbed her face, she whined softly. Leaning aside, she checked the clock; she'd been asleep for two hours.
A growling rumble of thunder rolled outside. Bonnie heard the heavy spatter of rain drops against the roof and window of the motel. She could tell that the storm was just beginning to pick up.
A fleeting thought skirted across her mind and she sat upright and alert. "Donovan," she whispered.
