EYEHEARTZOMBIES

I fell asleep in the fake-leather chair that sat at the little round table in my motel room. I woke up with my head on the table, the edge of it engraved in my cheek. My hair was wet from the cup I had spilled. It was empty of whiskey, but the ice had melted and left a pool on the table. It was about four-thirty in the morning and the city was quiet. I sat up, groggy and bleary-eyed, rubbed my face with my hand and decided to take a shower.

I stood there in the hot stream of water, half-asleep, half-drunk. I needed to piss, so I did. The ammonia smell work me up all the way and I finished the shower quickly. I didn’t bother getting dressed and, after toweling off, lay down in the bed naked and fell asleep. I didn’t wake up until the maid came knocking on the door with her call of “housekeeping!”

I got up and dressed quickly, then let her in while I packed up most of my stuff. She fluffed the pillows, changed the sheets, and wiped up the melted ice. I told her I was just about to leave and check out and she just smiled at me. I don’t think she spoke much English. She seemed about three days out of Mexico. Fuckin’ border hoppers. Oh well.

When she left the hotel room, I grabbed the pistol I had slid under bed, put it in the holster under my jacket and left. I dropped the key off in the office, hopped in the car and drove away. I filled up on the outskirts of town, some little grease spot on the map named “Norman”, and then hit the highway again.

I was driving along Route 66, that artery of the nation. Making pretty good time, too. From Oklahoma City to Amarillo, my next stop, is some 250 miles. I made it in about six hours, stopping a couple of times for gas and once for lunch. There’s not a damn thing in that distance, either. Just scrubland and cattle. Makes the driving easy, but the staying awake hard. I made it, though. And when I pulled into Amarillo, I decided to stay for the night.

I found a little motel by the road leading out of town. Some rinky-dink place named “The Cattle Rustler Inn.” It had a hot shower and a soft-enough bed. That was all I really cared about. I grabbed a hamburger from a roadside stand and another bottle of hooch from a corner liquor store and decided to have a better night than last.

I called Ray from outside the liquor store to see if anything new had turned up. Nothing had, but he had gotten a call from Max. Seems Max had heard I was coming out that way and was worried.

“He thinks you’re coming to take over,” Ray explained. I could tell that he thought this was a funny idea. I didn’t. Max had always been a bit of a worry wart about doing better than me. I saw it on his face at graduation. “I went to college and you didn’t” that look said. I didn’t care at the time, but if he was convinced I was going to steal his jewel of the desert away from him, he might get a little crazy. The last thing I needed was him trying to watch me at every turn.

“You don’t think that’s a valid worry?” I asked Ray. I knew the Mob didn’t like in-fighting, especially between the higher-ups, what you might call “middle management.”

“No, not at all, kid. Max is smarter than that. I explained to him that you weren’t even going to work at the same place as him. That you were set up over at the Flamingo and he should just worry about his place. He seemed to understand, said ‘oh, alright. Just making sure’ and then hung up. Max’s a good kid. He’ll be alright. And so will you. When you do you think you’ll get there?” Ray seemed to honestly believe everything he was saying. I believed it. I believed because Ray did. He had that effect on me. It was kind of creepy.

“A couple more days. I’ll probably stay somewhere in the desert between here and Vegas. This is Sunday?I’ll give you a call from the Flamingo on Tuesday, Wednesday morning at the latest.”

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll tell Bugsy too look out for you. Lucky hasn’t been too happy with him lately, but with Lucky back over in the old country, he can’t keep too good of tabs on him. We want you to do that, of course. You keep the place locked down, and you keep Bugsy honest.”

I chuckled. “Alright, Ray, I’ll do my best.” He chuckled, too. We said our good-byes, then I went back to The Cattle Rustler Inn.