It had been a long day. I was at the end of my month long road-trip across the United States. Tonight I would sleep peacefully at the Shady Lawn Motel before my final leg home. I opened the door to Suite 002 with the worn key given by the motel owner.
He was an odd fellow. He was a bald, skinny man with a bad stutter. He reminded me of my old mailman who used to bumble nervously around my mother.
I crashed onto the bed and flung my shoes to the carpeted floor. No need to take off my clothes, I wanted to leave early and it was just easier to keep them on.
I turned on the TV and flicked absently through a few channels before turning it off. My eyelids had already begun to droop -- I was far too tired to sit through a whole program. I let out a big yawn and got comfortable under the covers.
Just when I was about to fall into sleep’s embrace I heard a voice. No. Two voices. A conversation. I couldn’t make out the words, it was too quiet. There must’ve been a couple in the room next to mine.
Now I wasn’t sleepy at all. Curious was my middle name, and if curiosity had killed the cat, my ticket should’ve been punched a long time ago. In fact, that’s largely why I decided to go on the road-trip. Curiosity.
As I strained to make out the words the voices slowly increased in volume. How wonderful! It was an argument! I heard a female voice and a male one. The debate was becoming heated and the male voice sounded drunk.
I pressed my ear against the motel wall and the words became clear. Just like I used to with my parents.
“Give me the keys!” the male voice roared. It made me jump a little. I always loved a little excitement.
“Richard, look at you, you can’t drive!” It was the female voice. “You’ve had enough to drink for tonight, we can go to the package store tomorrow.”
“Bitch! Don’t you tell me how much I can or cannot have!” I heard the man -- Richard -- slam something. Probably the wooden lamp-desk. “Linda. Give. Me. The. Keys!”
“I can’t let you! You can’t even walk straight!” Linda said, her voice started to sound angry as well.
“LINDA!” Richard bellowed this time. I could have heard that one without my ear on the wall. “I’ll hit you I swear.”
I imagined a burly redneck lifting his empty beer bottle, poising to strike his wife.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Linda’s response. This time she sounded less angry and more scared. Is he going to hit her? Is he really going to hit her? I was almost giddy. It was like watching a school fight break out -- or a TV drama. But this was better, no one was here to break up the fight!
I heard a solid thump, and then a body crash into a wall. Not my wall, but the one across the room from mine.
“Richard!” Linda was crying now. “You’ve hurt me.”
“Awww, c’mon! Don’t cry over a little nose bleed.”
Blood! She was bleeding! This was getting even more exhilarating. How I wished to be able to actually see it. I pictured a whimpering blonde woman collapsed against the wall trying to stem her bleeding nose. The tears from her eyes were mixing with the blood and it was dripping on her blouse.
“You like that? I can’t believed I married such a --”
Something made him stop.
“What the hell, Linda?” It was Richard, now he sounded scared.
“I’ve had enough of this shit, Richard!” Linda said.
“Look, I’m sorry, please! You were right, I’ve had too much.”
What did Linda have? Did she pick up the lamp? I could hardly contain myself!
“No, you should have said that sooner! Every goddamn night you get drunk, and every goddamn night you hit me!”
“Look Linda, I’m sorr--”
The man’s voice was cut short by a gunshot. I instantly knew she shot him in the head by the sound it made. It was like a ripe watermelon being dropped onto pavement. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me! What a story this was going to be!
Then another bang and watermelon noise. She had done herself too! Oh my, oh MY! I reckoned I was the luckiest man on earth. I practically had front row seats!
Well, I could’ve been closer, I could’ve seen it with my own eyes. A brief wave of disappointment washed over me, like the time the person next to me caught a fly ball at a baseball game. I could’ve caught it if only I had sat one seat to the left!
No use crying over spilt milk, I thought to myself, I’ll just have to go in and see the butchery myself. Yes! That’s what I’ll do! I can say I heard the gun shots and I barged in to help, but it was too late! I’ll be famous!
I leaped out of bed and ran out of my motel room. Never breaking my stride I launched myself hip first into Suite 001’s door. It burst open easily under my weight thanks to its cheap construction and my nearly insatiable curiosity.
Once inside I glanced around the room with wild eyes ready to soak in the carnage. Blood! Gore! Most certainly even brains!
But what I saw was a skinny man lying in bed basking in the flickering glow of a television.
“Is-is-is it too loud? I’m s-s-sorry.”
© 2009 Arthur Brink
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