"A time to think"

The San Jose City limit sign flashed by. I had been doing sixty-five to seventy, eighty if I FELT there were no cops, trying to make it in a relatively decent time. It was only 5 o'clock when I got off the 101 Freeway. There were several hotels in the immediate area. I wanted to bed down and formulate a plan. Something in the back of my mind was telling me, 'Karen, be careful. Something is definitely not right.' I do listen to that little something sometimes. I pulled onto the off ramp into the streets. 'The Super 8 motel looks good.' I thought and drove up to the front entrance. I got out and went to the counter.

"Yes, may I help you Ma'am."

"A room please."

"Smoking or non-smoking?"

"Non-smoking."

"How many nights?"

"I'll pay for two now."

The desk clerk did whatever a desk clerk does. He handed me a form, "Please fill this out." I handed him my credit card. After filling the card out we exchanged card for room keys and credit card.

"Thank you very much ma'am."

I took my tote bag and walked out the office to the lobby. A snack and soda machine were off to a corner. I walked toward them.

"Seventy cents for a soda!" I was shocked. I half expect such, but it always surprises me the way vendors suck money out of people. I noticed a store half a mile down the road as I drove into the parking area. "I might walk to the store." The candy machine was even more outrageous. I walked back outside and parked my car. On the way to the room I grabbed a soda and chocolate bar from the hotel bandit. Once in my room I threw my stuff onto the bed. I did my routine check, looking under the bed, in the closets, in the draws, until I felt satisfied I would have no surprises.

'What a long day this has been.' I said to no one in particular and sniffed myself, 'You need a bath.'

The bathroom was a standard motel bathroom. Toilet and shower/bathtub. The sink and mirror were outside the bathroom next to the door. I mused at the little sign next to the mirror. 'HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ANYTHING . . .' It named the usual. 'toothpaste, razor, toothbrush', things like that. It did not mention bubblebath. I started a bath.

The living/bedroom was nothing extraordinary. Queensize bed, table, television, desk, mirror. I took off my clothes and sat on the bed. The top was cool and felt good against on buttocks. I have this thing with coolness on my rearend. The covers felt good to my entire body as I rolled and stretched. I reached for my purse. My gun slipped out and hit the floor with a deep thud. I picked it up and placed it back in the purse. I took out the brochures. 'What is your secret?' I whispered. The first one was the Olympic RENT-A-CAR. 'Now why would a guy who already had a car what to rent one?' The second brochure was the WINCHESTER Mystery House. I looked through the pages. On the last page in one of the pictures, an object was circled with a thin marker. The object was a tray with dishes. It was on a bed. 'Okay', I said while taking a bite from the candy bar and a sip from the soda. 'What secrets did you hold back, Mr. Carter.' I regretted using the tactic I used on Mr. Carter. What should've happened was me beating the hell out of him, but hind-sight is always 20-20. I got up and walked to the bathroom. The water felt warm and clean. I stepped in, sat, and relaxed. It felt good to be clean again. With all the excitement my body developed a greasy, dirty feel to it. I abated to the waters. The tranquil, hypnotic effect from the swishing bathwater carried me away into a light dream.