With pipe in hand, Ian stepped out of the motel to not only get some fresh air but to cool his engines to put it fancy. It was warm and the air was fresh. It was country air. As Ian slid the pipe within his mouth, he squinted down the yellow, dirt road that disappeared into a horizon of green pasture and blue sky. The clouds that floated like pillowy ships in the sky cast their shadows upon the earth like blimps.
"Howdy," came an elderly voice.
The bank robber glanced to the building adjacent to the dorms to see the owner seated in a rocking chair and smoking his own pipe. He was a man perhaps in his late fifties to early sixties with hair brown, gray, and in disarray beneath a yellow cap. He wore blue suspenders and his round belly sat in his lap from excessive consumption of alcohol. In a creaky, wooden chair, he rocked back and forth, smoking his pipe and every once in awhile popping the cork on his old brown jug of ale and taking a few swigs.
With a friendly smile Ian walked over to join him and sat upon the step, reaching into his pocket to draw out a match stick.
"Fine day," Ian replied.
He scraped the match across the step and got the tobacco burning in the bowl.
"Yesiree, a very fine day indeed, and you must be that new fella' that rented the room for you and yer lady friend."
Cupping the bowl, Ian closed his eyes and savored the peace. "I am."
"Whatta' mess that girl was. Where you find a thing like that?"
Ian's brows knitted a little. He didn't like how this man was calling Elizabeth a thing. "Let's just say I got lucky."
The man sensed Ian's irritation and quickly apologized, "I don't mean to offend friend. I was just worried. She fine now?"
"Better than she was before."
"That's good to hear. Say, you and her stayin' together. You don't seem married."
"We ain't."
"Then what are ya?"
"Let's just say I'm her chauffeur."
"Yeah? Where yer vehicle?"
"Wrecked it."
"Oh! So that's why. Hope everythin' is under control."
"We're thankful your motel happened to be here."
"Your very welcome and you two always welcome!"
Silence fell between the two as the manager continued rocking and took a break to wet his whistle on his jug.
"Say," he started again, dragging his tongue across his ale-soaked lips. "She a pretty gal. You ever think about..." His voice became hushed.
Ian turned around to regard the man with a raised brow. He then laughed a little and went back to gazing off in the fields as his cheeks flushed a little. "'Course not."
The manager chortled at Ian's reaction. "Must be hard not to."
"You have no idea," Ian muttered under his breath. "She's engaged. I'm just a driver."
"How much she payin' you?"
The conversation made Ian suspicious. "What's it matter?"
"You like money, son?"
Ian gave no answer as he silently puffed on his pipe.
"I'll pay you 50 dollars if you let me have her for a night."
Ian slowly stood and muttered gruffly, "I think you've had too much to drink, Pops."
"She's a fine, young thing. Okay, 70 dollars and no more."
Two chutes of smoke left Ian's nostrils on an angry breath. He didn't know what came over him, but every word that left the manager's mouth just got his blood boiling. Releasing two breaths of smoke from the corner of his mouth, Ian closed his eyes as he calmed his nerves, the pipe bobbing in his mouth as he gnawed on it.
Without screaming, yelling, or any intonation of rage in his tone, Ian said calmly and smoothly, "Old man, you come anywhere near her or our room, and I'll kill you."
The manager stopped rocking to stare timidly at Ian's back as the bank robber calmly descended the steps and went over to his room. He dumped the ash from his pipe, knocking it against the wall twice, and then entered his and Elizabeth's room. Without saying a word to the girl, he sat down and ate what was left of the cold breakfast.
That night.
While Elizabeth slept, Ian was up, getting his bath in. He raked the hot water through his oaken layers and rubbed the soap bar against his skin. He couldn't stop thinking about what that manager had said to him. It had disgusted him and he felt disturbed to be staying in a room rented to him by such a man. Pulling the cork, Ian rose from the tub, the water tumbling like clear silk down his lean chest and stomach. He stepped over to counter, the bathroom door was cracked to vent some of the steam. He grasped up one of the remaining towels and ran it over his glistening, tanned skin before he carelessly dropped it on the floor and got dressed.
His mind was back on track. He needed to get them a car, and he felt the manager's vehicle would do, but he didn't feel safe stealing it after the man saw his face. He wanted to see if there was a gas station or another motel up the road, but he didn't like the idea of Elizabeth being left alone.
Let's hope Pops had enough to drink to forget my face, Ian thought.
After getting dressed, he turned off the bathroom light and stepped out to check on Elizabeth and see if she was still sleeping. Quietly, Ian then moved outside to get to work on the manager's vehicle. No later than ten minutes, Ian walked back in to gather their things in his sack. He walked over to Elizabeth and touched her gently on the back.
"We need to go. I got a car waitin' for us outside," Ian informed.
He didn't say where he had gotten the vehicle, but that should have said enough. "Bring the pillows and blankets with you, so you can keep warm on the ride. We got some ways to go."
Ian waste no more time and walked out to the awaiting vehicle.
"Howdy," came an elderly voice.
The bank robber glanced to the building adjacent to the dorms to see the owner seated in a rocking chair and smoking his own pipe. He was a man perhaps in his late fifties to early sixties with hair brown, gray, and in disarray beneath a yellow cap. He wore blue suspenders and his round belly sat in his lap from excessive consumption of alcohol. In a creaky, wooden chair, he rocked back and forth, smoking his pipe and every once in awhile popping the cork on his old brown jug of ale and taking a few swigs.
With a friendly smile Ian walked over to join him and sat upon the step, reaching into his pocket to draw out a match stick.
"Fine day," Ian replied.
He scraped the match across the step and got the tobacco burning in the bowl.
"Yesiree, a very fine day indeed, and you must be that new fella' that rented the room for you and yer lady friend."
Cupping the bowl, Ian closed his eyes and savored the peace. "I am."
"Whatta' mess that girl was. Where you find a thing like that?"
Ian's brows knitted a little. He didn't like how this man was calling Elizabeth a thing. "Let's just say I got lucky."
The man sensed Ian's irritation and quickly apologized, "I don't mean to offend friend. I was just worried. She fine now?"
"Better than she was before."
"That's good to hear. Say, you and her stayin' together. You don't seem married."
"We ain't."
"Then what are ya?"
"Let's just say I'm her chauffeur."
"Yeah? Where yer vehicle?"
"Wrecked it."
"Oh! So that's why. Hope everythin' is under control."
"We're thankful your motel happened to be here."
"Your very welcome and you two always welcome!"
Silence fell between the two as the manager continued rocking and took a break to wet his whistle on his jug.
"Say," he started again, dragging his tongue across his ale-soaked lips. "She a pretty gal. You ever think about..." His voice became hushed.
Ian turned around to regard the man with a raised brow. He then laughed a little and went back to gazing off in the fields as his cheeks flushed a little. "'Course not."
The manager chortled at Ian's reaction. "Must be hard not to."
"You have no idea," Ian muttered under his breath. "She's engaged. I'm just a driver."
"How much she payin' you?"
The conversation made Ian suspicious. "What's it matter?"
"You like money, son?"
Ian gave no answer as he silently puffed on his pipe.
"I'll pay you 50 dollars if you let me have her for a night."
Ian slowly stood and muttered gruffly, "I think you've had too much to drink, Pops."
"She's a fine, young thing. Okay, 70 dollars and no more."
Two chutes of smoke left Ian's nostrils on an angry breath. He didn't know what came over him, but every word that left the manager's mouth just got his blood boiling. Releasing two breaths of smoke from the corner of his mouth, Ian closed his eyes as he calmed his nerves, the pipe bobbing in his mouth as he gnawed on it.
Without screaming, yelling, or any intonation of rage in his tone, Ian said calmly and smoothly, "Old man, you come anywhere near her or our room, and I'll kill you."
The manager stopped rocking to stare timidly at Ian's back as the bank robber calmly descended the steps and went over to his room. He dumped the ash from his pipe, knocking it against the wall twice, and then entered his and Elizabeth's room. Without saying a word to the girl, he sat down and ate what was left of the cold breakfast.
That night.
While Elizabeth slept, Ian was up, getting his bath in. He raked the hot water through his oaken layers and rubbed the soap bar against his skin. He couldn't stop thinking about what that manager had said to him. It had disgusted him and he felt disturbed to be staying in a room rented to him by such a man. Pulling the cork, Ian rose from the tub, the water tumbling like clear silk down his lean chest and stomach. He stepped over to counter, the bathroom door was cracked to vent some of the steam. He grasped up one of the remaining towels and ran it over his glistening, tanned skin before he carelessly dropped it on the floor and got dressed.
His mind was back on track. He needed to get them a car, and he felt the manager's vehicle would do, but he didn't feel safe stealing it after the man saw his face. He wanted to see if there was a gas station or another motel up the road, but he didn't like the idea of Elizabeth being left alone.
Let's hope Pops had enough to drink to forget my face, Ian thought.
After getting dressed, he turned off the bathroom light and stepped out to check on Elizabeth and see if she was still sleeping. Quietly, Ian then moved outside to get to work on the manager's vehicle. No later than ten minutes, Ian walked back in to gather their things in his sack. He walked over to Elizabeth and touched her gently on the back.
"We need to go. I got a car waitin' for us outside," Ian informed.
He didn't say where he had gotten the vehicle, but that should have said enough. "Bring the pillows and blankets with you, so you can keep warm on the ride. We got some ways to go."
Ian waste no more time and walked out to the awaiting vehicle.