Hank:

Thankfully, there were two single rooms available. I’d been a bit panicky trying to think of what to do if there had only been one room without seeming creepy. The walk down the hall was awkward enough. I stammered something about needing to be up and ready at eight o’clock tomorrow since there was still half a day’s drive left. She nodded silently and shut the door behind her. I tossed my gym bag on the floor and sat down. Goddammit Hank, what have you gotten yourself into? I went into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. My reflection stared hollowly back at me. I was exhausted. I dried my face, stripped down to my boxers, and crawled into bed. My call with Kamal didn’t do much to ease my anxiousness. He’d understood, as always, but I knew the whole thing set him on edge. I could picture him looking into every parked car by our house to see if anyone was watching us. He told me to just text him updates instead of calling, in case the landline was bugged. Maya, one of our dogs, had been sick since I left. The thought of leaving him in such a gloomy, oppressive atmosphere even for a day upset me. I realized sleep would not come easily tonight.

Joan:

I waited two hours in my room before venturing back out to the car. The first hour and fifteen minutes I used to shower and go through my nightly skincare routine. Then I organized my supplies and fashioned a wire coat hanger into a lockpick. The last forty-five minutes were agony. My classic rock playlist only made me feel erratic and tense. I switched to Erik Satie instead. Finally, the time came when I felt confident that Buckee would be asleep or at least wouldn’t be leaving his room before morning. I hid the makeshift car jack in my jacket and headed past the front desk. No one was around in the parking lot. The car was situated far away enough that you couldn’t see it from the entrance. I kept checking the area before placing my body flush with the driver side door to hide coat hanger and slowly lowered the end through the window (I’d made sure to roll it down slightly when I drove). I worked so slowly and carefully that my hands began to sweat. Offering a silent prayer to whatever car jacker deity might exist I lifted up the lock. No alarm so far. I removed the hanger and hesitated before slowly opening the door. Silence. My body loosened itself from the tight, tense coil it had been moments before and I exhaled in relief. Before entering the car, I threw the coat hanger down a storm drain. Then I got in and shut the door behind me. The glove box was crammed with papers; all insurance cards and registrations both the current and what looked like any from the past ten years. There was an owner’s manual, some individually wrapped butter mints and caramels scattered throughout and a dog leash wedged in the back. No gun. I replaced all the items except for one of the mints, which I popped in my mouth. I turned around and made the awkward maneuver into the back seat. The only thing under those was a box of Kleenex. The trunk had a blanket, a tire patch kit, and a pack of hand warmers. The whole set up reminded me of a suburban mom's car. Weird. I opened the back passenger door and climbed out. After making sure all the doors were manually re-locked, I walked back into the motel. I didn't really feel like sleeping but I knew that I needed it. I set an alarm for 7:30 in the morning, brushed my teeth, rechecked my backpack one last time, now with complimentary toilet paper, and got into bed. I lay there for some time, wondering if I had misjudged Buckee as much as he had misjudged me.