Chapter One: It’s All Bullshit

“Here’s your new room key,” Luke said with a smile, holding it out to the woman. He wanted to deck her straight in the face, but that wouldn’t fly. She looked at him, then the key, taking it with a grumble and not a single word of appreciation. Whatever. Didn’t matter to him.

Robbie came over, a baby-faced youth who worked part-time in general house-keeping, though he usually just walked around with his little mop cart and smoked weed in the back parking lot. He whistled as she rounded the corner to the first-floor corridor, then said, “Wow, what a bitch. Don’t know how you held it in with that one, Luke”

“I am kinda impressive, ain’t I?” he said, punching the rest of her info into the Excel spreadsheet. He sat down after doing that, pulling out his phone and opening Youtube, browsing his feed to see if there was anything interesting.

“What was her deal, anyways? Typical Karen shit?”

“Yeah. Somethin’ about smelling ‘drugs’ or some shit. Gimme a fuckin’ break. Bitch probably just wanted a discount or something, but she ain’t fooling me,” he said, grinning wide as he hit ‘Play” on a trailer for a new show. “I’m a professional bullshitter.”

“How late you workin’ today?” Robbie asked, taking his mop out and practicing a few combat moves. Dude was getting good—the grease spots near the breakfast counter were in danger.

“Uh, Esmeralda—no, fuck. Muriel, right? That’s her name? Whatever, the lady that takes over after me called out sick today. And you know Gene likes to just dump shit on the front desk person. Gonna be me holdin’ down the fort tonight.”

“Fuck, that sucks. Weren’t you going out with that one chick tonight?”

“Yeah, but I’m kinda glad. Didn’t feel like puttin’ up with her anyways. She’s good for a lay and that’s about it. Talking to her is like chewin’ fat. You get nowhere.”

Robbie laughed, dropping the mop in the process and cursing when it clattered against the floor, water spilling over the tile, “I hear that. Anyways, I gotta go clean the second floor. See ya Luke.”

“Yep,” he said, turning his attention back to his phone. Second floor? Yeah right. If that moron wasn’t smoking dope in the parking lot in five minutes, Luke would stick the mop up his own ass and pretend he was a peacock. He sighed heavily as the trailer finished. The show had seemed interesting at first glance, but the trailer deflated his interest considerably. It seemed like most of what he was curious about was shown in the trailer. He shouldn’t have even been surprised. He sat up straight, scanning the guest list again. It was going to be a pretty quiet night, even for a Thursday. Only five booked rooms, two of which were no shows, and twenty currently occupied. They did tend to get some late guests, but the sky was already turning orange. He doubted they’d see more than two or three more new customers.

That was fine with him. It had been a rough week so far. Monday they’d had a kid take a dump in the pool, which had been a whole ordeal. How the fuck did people expect to get their room comp’d because someone shit in the pool? Insanity. And then Robbie had dropped the thing on the ground and tried to pick it back up, smushing it all over the place. He could still smell it a little when he walked past the stain. Tuesday was crazy because of the business conference that had been booked. Then, they found out that past the deposit, the company didn’t really want to pay the rest of the amount up-front. They had to call the cops, some dude pissed himself, there was crying and screaming…Jesus Christ. Then there was today, and God did he feel ready to snap. He just wanted to make it to Saturday in one piece.

He caught a flurry of motion in his peripheral and looked out the clear doors that guarded the lobby. A red Civic pulled up to the front, a man hastily getting out. He was white, lanky and frail-looking, a nervous look in his eyes as he walked through the doors, hugging himself tight in a multi-colored graffiti sweatshirt.

Baby’s first druggie starter kit, basically.

Something was off about him, though. Why the fuck was he so bugged out? Made a guy’s arm hairs stand at attention. The druggie walked up to the counter, placing a hand on it, then taking it off before backing up and pacing around.

“…Can I help you, sir?” Luke asked. He resolved right then and there to refuse him a room no matter how much money he threw at him.

“Yeah, uh, I’d like a room. Second floor. You guys got windows in your rooms?”

“…Yeah, we do.”

“Cool, cool. Yeah, ok, um, how much for one night?”

He did a dance with his fingers on the keyboard, clacking around a bit to feign searching through the list, “Oh. Unfortunately, it seems we’re all booked out for the night sir. My apologies.”

The man looked behind towards the parking lot, then back at him in confusion, “There’s only like ten, fifteen cars out there. Come on, you gotta have a room.”

“We have several guests who have booked ahead tonight. I do apologize for the inconvenience, but you will have to look elsewhere. Have a great day,” he said, kicking back in his chair and looking at his phone screen, flicking back and forth through his app pages.

The man dragged a hand over his face and took a few shaky breaths, “Look man, I really, really, need a room. Look, I got money,” he said, fiddling with his pockets and pulling out crumpled hundred-dollar bills, then slamming a few fifties and twenties on top of them. He took a step back, gesturing with both hands. “That’s like a grand, grand and change. I’m good for it. I just need a room. Please, man.”

He got up, looking the man dead in the eyes, “Bro, you’re skeeving me the fuck out. I don’t know what you’re mixed up with, but I don’t want it here. Get the fuck out or I call the cops. Simple as that.”

The druggie retreated a few steps, turning and thinking. Luke eyed him hesitantly. He hoped he wasn’t the violent t-

A white cloud of something covered his eyes, some getting inside before he could raise his hands. He coughed as some of it went into his mouth, the rest sliding down his clothes.

“Yeah! How you like that shit, bitch? Call the fucking cops now—that’s straight Columbian pure. See how that shit goes if you snitch on me.” He couldn’t see shit, his eyes burning as if someone dropped acid into them. The motherfucker pocket-coked him? Slender hands gripped his collar, pulling him against the counter as he continued to cough. “Now give me a fuckin’ room.”

“Fine! Fine! Fuck!” he said, pushing the druggie back, frantically digging bits of fine white dust out of his eyes, “What’s your fucking name?”

“Just put it under Isaiah.”

“Isaiah what?”

“Doe, Smith, Wilson, I dunno, make some shit up. I don’t want my real name on that shit.”

“Alright, whatever. It’s one-twenty for the night,” he said, finishing with a cough.

“Just give me the room key. Keep the change.” The druggie looked to his right at something, and Luke followed his eyes, one of the maids watching them with a frown. “Relax, seniorita, everything’s cool.” Luke shoved the room key at the man, and Isaiah took it and sprinted off, looking over his shoulder at the door.

“I speak English, asshole,” the maid said as he ran by her.

“Hey! You can’t leave your fucking—fuck, man,” he said, looking at the car sitting right under the middle of the canopy outside.

“Luke, what was that? You let that…” she shivered, “in here? What were you thinking?” She walked over to him, peering at the mess on and around him, then stepping back quickly. “Is that-”

“Yeah, I know Rosie. I’m working on it. And you don’t want to know. Listen, I gotta go get that guy’s keys so I can move his car. Be a dear and clean this up for me?”

She folded her arms under her breasts, “I am not touching that stuff.”

“Ok, fine. Leave me some gloves then so I can take care of it?”

“You should just call the police. Actually, I’m gonna do that right now,” she said, pulling out her phone.

He grabbed her wrist, looking into her brown eyes pleadingly, “Don’t. This isn’t the type of thing cops like to be reasonable about.”

“If you just tell the truth, they’ll take care of it,” she said.

“Rosie, you’re real cute when you say dumb shit like that,” he said, smiling. She gave him a withering look in response, “But seriously, don’t call the cops.”

He patted her arm reassuringly and she sighed, starting to clean up the crime scene. He stood for a few moments watching her, and she whirled around, daring him to talk. She did look pretty, even with her hair tied in a bun.

“I didn’t say anything Rosie.”

“If I leave you to do it you’ll definitely miss something. You think you’re real clever, Luke. We have a word for people like you in Spanish.”

“El Pollo Grande,” he said, trying not to laugh as she looked at him in confusion.

“What?”

“’Cause I got a big-“he said, motioning at his crotch.

She gasped and blushed, turning away from him, “You are so disgusting,” and he laughed as he walked away. He ran to and up the stairs, his master card bouncing around his neck. He turned left as he reached the second floor. Room 203. That would be a little bit further down, almost to the end. Darius was standing in the hallway, talking with a guest who was pointing angrily at the druggie’s room. Darius nodded and made placating gestures with infinite patience as he usually did. Darius was an older gentleman, black of skin and gray of hair. He had helped Luke a good deal when he first started working at the motel, and he was probably capable of running the whole place by himself.

“…I’m not going to stand for it, you hear?” said the guest, a middle-aged man dressed in a polo and khaki shorts. He scanned his memory for the guest’s name. People liked it when you remembered their name. It calmed them down, kind of like when a dog’s barking and you say their name and pull the leash. Well, almost.

“Mr. Frasier,” he said, grabbing the man’ attention, nodding respectfully towards Darius who gave him a small smile as the man turned his back on him. “What seems to be the issue here?”

“Thank God, finally someone who can do something. There was an undesirable in the hall as my family and I were leaving to go to the pool, and he cursed my wife out! Called her the ‘B’ word!”

“I am deeply sorry for the damage that guest has caused you,” he said, already resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to give him compensation.

“Damn right.”

“I am going to speak with him right now and get to the bottom of this,” saying exactly what he knew the man wanted to hear. He gestured towards Darius and said, “Mr. Felix here will make sure you’re appropriately compensated for the damages you’ve sustained.”

“Um,” the man said, glancing at Darius but still keeping his body turned towards Luke, “that’s OK, I can wait until you’re done.”

“I wouldn’t want to delay you any further. Mr. Felix is among our most senior staff. He’ll take care of you.”

He turned his back on them, facing the druggie’s room, the last thing he saw being the guest awkwardly staring at his feet with Darius standing there, arms folded. He held the card over the scanner for a moment and it turned green, beeping and clicking as it unlocked. He slid in and closed the door shut behind him, the druggie looking up fearfully as he entered.

“Oh,” he said, breathing out in relief, “it’s just you.”

“Yeah. You left your car in front of the building. You gonna move it or you want me to?”

“Uh, can you pull it around like, right there,” he said, pointing out the window towards an open spot right below.”

“Yeaaaaaaaah,” he said, looking at the man doubtfully. “You’re not gonna try…jumping out the window or anything, right? We’re not liable for that, FYI.” He was definitely going to jump out the window.

“Nah. Nah, no way, bro.” He tossed Luke the keys and turned to look out the window. Luke pulled out his phone and checked the time. Eight ‘o’ clock. The orange outside had started to turn purple. He just needed to finish this and maybe he could chill for the rest of his shift. The druggie threw the window open, a cold breeze washing over him.

Something told him it wasn’t going to be as easy as that.