Chapter 5: Chance
The damned old truck broke down a few miles off Interstate 10 half way between Austin and Booth, literally in the middle of fucking nowhere.
For the most part, the trip home had been quite amusing. After desperately trying to get the AM radio to work, I had quickly given up on that and had spent most of the trip singing to myself. I never had a singing voice, not one of my strong suits, but it kept my mind off the seemingly endless drive and gave me something to do.
I had toyed with the idea of picking up the random hitchhiker, but again, couldn’t be bothered much, and didn’t feel like making small talk. Besides, I was still a little too close to Austin for comfort, and didn’t feel like explaining myself to anyone who might recognize me. Which was why I waited until I was several hours out of Austin before I stopped for a burger and beer.
I should have known something was wrong when a man at the rest stop pointed out that there was black smoke coming out of the truck’s exhaust, but I was too distracted to give it any more thought. The only thing on my mind was getting home quickly so I could start what Alice called the “healing process”.
Which was why I was ready to shoot myself in the head as I stood by the side of the road, kicking at the pile of shit truck I should have known wouldn’t make it all the way back to Booth. I could almost hear my father laughing from whatever pit of hell he had been thrown into.
“Need a ride?”
I turned and looked into the weathered face of a portly farmer, leaning his head out the passenger side window to look at me, the sheer size of him taking up the entirety of the truck’s front. He was chewing on something, like a cow chewing cud. He spat tobacco juice out the window and flashed me what I could only hope was his best attempt at a smile.
“Broke down,” I said, gesturing to the Chevy.
“Mm hmm, looks like,” the farmer nodded, wiping spittle from his chin with the back of his hand. “I can drive you into Ludwig where you can get a tow, if you want.”
I hesitated for a second, wondering if maybe I should just call Alice and have her send someone. Then I remembered that the whole point of the drive home was to forget all about my life in Austin for a few weeks. No, I wouldn’t call Alice. I’d take my chances with the fat farmer who looked like he had just swallowed a hog and was chewing on the last bite.
“That would be great, thanks,” I finally said.
“Hop on in, fella,” the man said, reaching across to open the passenger door. “This here’s your lucky day.”
* * *
Ludwig was a strange little town. It looked like something out of an old TV western; just one narrow main street, a few random shops here and there, and enough smiles going around to make anyone uneasy. Still, it made finding a tow easy, and it had only taken an hour to get my truck back to what I surmised was the only repair shop in town.
“It’s the head gasket.” The owner, and only employee, a giant of a man with the name Hank sewn on his greasy shirt, rubbed a dirty rag between his big hands and diagnosed the issue without even looking under the hood once he had the truck towed back to his shop.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Damn old Chevy trucks were bad about blowing the head gasket.” He raised the hood and leaned in for a closer look. He had a long screwdriver in his hand. He tapped it around the engine compartment like a drunken one-armed drummer.
I was skeptical, and I think the tinkering he was doing around the engine was mainly for my benefit. He closed the hood, spat on the ground between his boots, and stared long and hard at the truck.
“Definitely the head gasket,” he said. “This girl ain’t gonna take you anywhere like this.”
“How long is it going to take to get this girl fixed?”
“You in any kinda hurry?”
“I was hoping to be in Booth today,” I replied.
Hank chuckled, shook his head and spat again. “No, sir, this thing ain’t goin’ anywhere today,” he said. “It’s gonna take me a few days to get the gasket in. Unless you’re willing to tow it all the way to Booth.”
I cursed under my breath. My plans for relaxation had not included being stranded in the middle of nowhere for a few days.
“You might wanna grab a ride to Booth and come back for it in a few days if you don’t wanna wait,” Hank said. “Probably cost you a few hundred dollars. You don’t look like you’re made of money, though, so…”
I smiled at the impression I had given him, just a broke cowboy in an old piece of shit truck on the way home. I probably had ten-grand in cash in my pocket and a wallet full of credit cards. Money wasn’t an issue. My health was.
“If ya don’t mind me askin’, what’s a man like you doin’ goin’ to Booth anyway?” Hank asked.
The question took me by surprise. I suddenly got the feeling that I had been wrong. My broken cowboy disguise had not worked as well as I’d hoped.
I said, “Excuse me?”
Hank gestured to my jeans and boots. “That getup doesn’t look like its ever had a coat of dust on it,” he said. “And I ain’t ever known a billionaire to be drivin’ one of these old Chevy’s.”
My mouth bobbed open, which made Hank laugh so hard he started to cough. “Did you think that just because I got grease between my fingers and dust between my ears I wouldn’t know who you was, Mr. Ridder?”
I sighed, ran a hand through my hair and scratched the back of my head. So much for trying to be inconspicuous. I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy milked me for every penny I had just to get the Chevy fixed. I was probably better off ditching it here and just calling someone from the office to come drive me the rest of the way. Only, I didn’t want anyone to know where I was going, and calling Alice or Dennis meant I was admitting I couldn’t take care of myself without their help.
“Oh, I see,” Hank said, giving me the eye.
I frowned. “See what?”
“Escapin’ the city life, are we?”
I smiled. “You’re a lot smarter than you look, Hank.”
“It’s easy to play the fool when you’re stuck in the asshole of Texas,” Hank chuckled. “Makes it easier for people to ignore ya when you’re noticin’ everythin’.”
“Smart.”
“So, Booth, huh?” Hank asked. “You got family there?”
“My mother,” I replied. “Grew up there.”
Hank nodded. “Well, I’m more than willin’ to drive ya there, if you want. But if ya ask me, Ludwig’s just as good a place to run away to as Booth. Probably got more goin’ for it. Got a nice motel, good diner, cold beer.”
I raised an eyebrow, doubting that very much.
Hank chuckled. “Suit yourself,” he said. “Motel’s only a few minutes away, and no one’s gonna know you’re here.” He made a zipping gesture across his mouth and smiled.
“How do you figure? You made me.”
“I’m a bit late into the tech game, but I got my interests,” he said. “Besides, ever since Lowe shut down last year, I’ve been getting more business my way. Had to upgrade my system to keep up. Got your software set up on my old PC in the back. The Neptune 2.0, the one with all the tracking and stuff.”
“Well, good for you,” I said, smiling and nodding.
“Rest of the town’s still in the stone age, if ya ask me,” Hank said. “They wouldn’t know you from a stack of hay. I guarantee it. My guess is, every Tom, Dick, and Harry in Booth will spot you the moment you hit town. Not much to get away there, if you ask me.”
I looked around, taking in my surroundings. From where I stood, the motel looked a lot closer than just a few minutes away, and there weren’t enough people around to make me feel like I’d bump into someone else who recognized me. A part of me thought that this might not actually be a bad idea. The town seemed like a good enough place to start my vacation.
“A few days to get the gasket?” I asked Hank, looking at the Chevy and silently cursing it for breaking down on me.
“Yup,” he said. “UPS delivers once a week.”
“Alright,” I said, nodding. “I take it I won’t have trouble finding a room at the motel?”
“You might just be their only customer,” Hank laughed. “Slow time of the year.”
“Is there a busy time of the year around here?”
Hank just shrugged and flashed me a smile that was missing a few teeth.
I grabbed my duffle from the back of the truck, shook Hank’s greasy hand, and made my way to the motel.
* * *
I walked into the motel lobby and rang the bell on the desk. A large man walked out, easily towering over me, with a beard that would have made ZZ Top jealous. His smile, though, was warm, and I could see from the sparkle in his eye that he was just glad to have someone walk through the door. His nametag read Chuck, and when I was sure he didn’t recognize me, I felt my nerves ease up a bit.
“Welcome to the Ludwig Motel. What can I do you for?” Chuck asked, giving me a pristine smile that made me want to ask him who did his dental work.
“I need a room,” I said, dropping my bag by my feet and running a hand through my hair. I was sweating like a pig and killing time. I was born and raised in Texas, and still couldn’t bear the heat for too long. I just hoped the rooms had air conditioning.
“Well, you’re a lucky one,” Chuck said. “We’ve got fifteen rooms here, and thirteen of them are up for grabs.”
“Great,” I said, feeling a small prick in my chest and taking in a deep breath to ease the pain before it began. I stretched my legs and waited as he pulled out a ledger from under the counter.
Definitely not using one of your software here.
“Name?” Chuck asked, holding his pen over an empty row.
“Chance,” I said.
“Last name with that?”
“Does it matter?”
Chuck looked at me, squinted for a second and then shrugged. “I assume you’re gonna be paying with cash, then?”
I nodded as he wrote down Chance No Last Name in the register. I peeked over, noticing that only one other name was jotted down above mine, and pulled out my wallet. “Could I have a room on the ground level?”
“You can have any room you want,” Chuck smiled. “Other than mine and room ten, your pickings.”
“Good to know I have company,” I smiled.
Chuck laughed and shook his head. “Guy in room ten’s booked the room for six months. Some writer fella who never really leaves the room unless it’s time to eat or take a walk to the diner. Don’t worry, he won’t be bothering you.”
I didn’t really care. I was hoping for some peace and quiet, but actually finding it scared me a little. It was almost as if I had stepped into some Twilight Zone episode, where there were only a few people left in the world, and my only way across the country had blown a head gasket. I checked my phone, made sure I had bars, then pocketed it again. Better safe than sorry.
“How long you planning on staying, Chance?” Chuck asked.
“Couple of days, maybe three,” I replied. “Depends on when Hank can finish fixing my truck.”
“Whatcha driving?”
“1978 Chevy. Blown head gasket.”
Chuck smiled. “Oh, that’s a beaut, that one. Take care of it, it’ll take care of you.”
“Yeah, I guess it got upset that I’ve been ignoring it for a few years.”
“Trucks are a lot like women,” Chuck laughed. “Ignore them, and they’ll welcome you back alright when you come crawling. But they’ll definitely give you hell for it.”
“I had it coming, then,” I smiled.
I didn’t exactly know what it was, but for some reason, I was actually starting to feel better. The tension of the city, coupled with the frustration of the broken-down Chevy, it was all gone. Almost as if I had stepped into a completely different world, a bubble of sorts, and had left everything else behind.
I could get used to this.
Chuck helped me with my duffle bag even though I told him I could manage. He seemed to want to take me on a tour of the place, proudly pointing out different parts of the motel as he led me to my room. It was a cozy little establishment. The rooms were divided into two buildings set in a semi-circle, separated by a small hut that Chuck explained was the bar slash diner.
“Only it isn’t operational unless we have a full house. If you want a drink, Joel’s is a couple of buildings down.”
The swimming pool was at the center of it all, small but clean, fenced in. Other than an older Ford parked at the far end of the parking lot, the motel was empty.
Chuck let me know that his wife came in every morning with fresh pie, and there was always coffee brewing. If I was hungry, there was a diner, apparently next to Joel’s, where they served the “best burgers this side of Dallas”. Most of the townsfolk kept to themselves, which suited me just fine, and other than the twins who worked here in the morning, and some woman named Ashlyn who tended to the flowers that decorated every corner of the motel, I wasn’t going to be bothered much.
It amused me how much Chuck cared about my privacy, and given that I had paid in cash and refrained from giving him my last name, it wasn’t all too surprising. Guy probably thinks I’m running away from the police or something.
He opened the door to my room, and I was hit by the strong smell of Gardenias. The scent almost immediately brought me back home. I was eight again, racing around behind our house while my mother fooled around with her garden. Somewhere in the distance I could hear my father’s tractor, and I knew any minute now he’d be driving the loud monster back, hopping off it and giving my mother a long, wet kiss. Then he’d tell her to stop breaking her back over plants that did no good, and then call me over to help him in the barn.
For a second there, I completely forgot about Austin, about the company, about anything and everything, and was lost in this one solitary memory.
Chuck snapped his fingers in front of my eyes and brought me back.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “The flowers. Brought back some memories.”
“Yeah, they’re really something,” Chuck smiled. “Ashlyn Carter tends those, green thumb, that girl, really knows how to make this place pop. I was skeptical at first, it was Martha who really gave the girl a chance to show us what she can do. And you know what? I’m glad she did. Can’t imagine this place without the flowers she brings in all the time.”
“She really knows how to pick them,” I said, feeling my chest swell as I breathed in the scent of the Gardenias.
“Sure does,” Chuck laughed. “Grows them in a greenhouse behind her place. A real plant junkie, that one.”
The Gardenias were set in the center of a table that took up the space in front of the bed. Beyond it was a small flat screen, and beyond that the bathroom. The room was decorated for comfort, and the large window let in enough light to make it feel homey. But my attention was set completely on the Gardenias.
“Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me,” Chuck said. “But I guess for now you’re all set.”
I was. Looking at my temporary lodgings, feeling the sun at my back and the sweet smell of the flowers filling my sinuses, I truly and utterly was.