Spencerville

Keith saw the small motel sign, a portable lighted signboard, actually, that said Westway Motel — $29 with an arrow that pointed to the right. He recalled that the airport highway had once been a meandering two-lane road, but had been widened and straightened many years ago, leaving some of the old motels hundreds of yards away from the side of the new road. Keith turned onto a narrow lane that took him to the parking court of the motel. He stopped out of view of the lobby. "Okay. This is like old times. Two minutes."

"You used to have the key in forty-five seconds."

He smiled and got out of the Blazer, noticed a Ford Escort in the parking lot, and went inside the small lobby.

The desk clerk, a young man, looked up from a television behind the counter.

Keith adopted a manner of sexual urgency and said, "Need a room."

The clerk put a registration form on the desk.

Keith said, "How much for a few hours?"

"Same."

"Hey, I just bought her a Sizzler steak, buddy. Can you do better?"

"How long you staying?"

"Maybe midnight. You get off at midnight? You can check."

"Yeah, I'm off at midnight, but I'm not rushing you."

"Tell you what — I might be longer. I'll give you twenty-five for all night."

"Okay."

Keith filled out the registration form with some creativity, listing a Ford Escort as his car. He'd discovered that the clerk, who could possibly identify him despite the disguise, would be gone at midnight. So far, so good. He gave the young man twenty-five dollars in cash, took the key to room 7, and left.

He got into the Blazer and pulled up to a parking spot several places away from room 7. There weren't too many cars there on a Sunday night, and none of them could be seen from the highway. But he had no intention of leaving the Blazer there anyway.

They took the luggage, and Keith also took all his personal possessions out of the car, including his audiotapes, the registration, and other odds and ends.

Keith opened the door to the room, and they carried everything inside. Annie turned on a lamp and said, "It's lovely."

Actually, it was very shoddy. Keith found the telephone book under the nightstand and flipped through the yellow pages.

"What are you looking for?"

"I need... here it is." He closed the book and said, "I'll be back in about fifteen or twenty minutes."

"Where are you going?"

"To get the car out of here."

She put her hand on his arm. "I'll go with you. If they come, I don't want to be here without you."

"All right."

They went outside and got into the Blazer. Keith drove up the lane and stopped at the lighted signboard near the highway. He got out and pulled the light plug out of the electrical outlet, leaving the signboard in darkness, then got back in the Blazer and said, "Enough customers for one night."

Annie glanced at him but said nothing.

Keith pulled back onto the highway and made a right, toward Toledo. He said, "We're going to have to walk back."

"Okay."

A police cruiser came toward them from the opposite direction and passed them. Keith looked in his sideview mirror, but the cruiser kept going. He said to her, "There's a Chevrolet dealership on this road, according to the phone book. Odd number, so it'll be on the left-hand side."

She nodded. "That's a good place to leave a Chevy. You're smarter than you look, Landry."

"Thank you."

"Do you still need that mustache and glasses?"

"For your fantasy, later."

She smiled and punched his arm. "You are my fantasy."

The Chevrolet dealership came into view on the left side of the road, and Keith slowed down and took the left into the lot. The place was closed, as he thought it would be at this hour, and he found space in the used-car lot.

They got out, and Keith went around to the rear, got two screwdrivers from the toolbox, and they took off the license plates. "There. They'll wonder about the good car fairy in the morning. Let's walk. It's exactly one-point-four miles, if you're interested."

They began the walk back to the motel, along the commercial highway. Keith stuck the license plates in his waistband and zippered his windbreaker over them.

She asked him, "Will we come back for the car in the morning?"

"It's an option."

They came to a Burger King, and Keith asked, "Hungry?"

"No, my stomach is in knots."

"You need a belly-bomber. Come on."

They went into the Burger King, got hamburgers, Cokes, and fries, and sat at a table. Keith asked, "Is this as romantic as you thought it would be?"

She smiled. "When I'm with you, the airport highway looks like the Via Veneto."

"I think I'm going to throw up."

She laughed, and he put his hand on hers. "It's okay now."

She nodded.

They ate, and he found he was hungry and so was she. He glanced at his watch. It was always a good idea to put in some time outside of the room you just booked. The police sometimes got sloppy about their stakeouts when they were waiting for you to return.

She said, "Don't swallow your mustache."

He smiled. "I like you."

At ten P.M., he said, "Let's walk off the fries."